#like. the blood test results are going to come back normal

[hearty-an0n]

idk im just so tired

[heartpiratedrabbles]

Overly Cautious

Prompt: Katakuri comes back from a mission to learn you're pregnant despite never wanting to be a father.

Requested by anonymous

Katakuri X Fem Reader

Katakuri had been sent on a mission to retrieve something, leaving you alone, having you stand in as the Minister of Flour while he was away. Everything was going well; you had done this plenty of times in the past. But some of the workers had noticed you not eating as much, you’d wave them off without a concern. The concern really came when a cake was being made and just the smell of it made you want to vomit.

         You couldn’t hide it from anyone, you were in the middle of a meeting about the upcoming tea party and what pastries would be served. Everyone forced you to see a doctor, no one wanting to deal with the wrath of your husband if he got back to find you sick.

         And that’s how you ended up in the ward, a doctor running tests and looking you over. Much to your dismay numerous curious eyes also making sure you wouldn’t leave this forced appointment. “And when was the last time you were sexually active?” The question threw you off guard, nearly spitting out the tea that you had been allowed to drink.

You’re face burning red as you whip your head around to look at those who had forced you here. None of them dared to make eye-contact with you, some whistling while looking off in a random direction. They tried to protest when you kicked them out, but you refused to discuss such things in front of so many people. Once the door was finally closed the doctor, who was not too amused asked the question again. “It’s been a little a while, 7 or 8 weeks I think,” Thinking back to the last intimate night you had with Katakuri, he’d been so busy lately that it’d had been longer than normal.

The doctor wrote some notes down and continued with other questions before doing some blood tests. You sat back, expecting this to be a simple flu. That would give you a headache, you’d be forced to bedrest as to not spread it and not slow down progress. The doctor padded his way back into the room, flipping through the papers reading the results of everything he had tested for. “Well, it seems as though you’re pregnant.”

         You took the rest of the day off to think about things. Katakuri had adamantly told you he didn’t want children. He didn’t want to pass down his genes in fear of what could happen, you understood his concerns and agreed to not try. And while you were sexually active, contraceptions were used at every avenue, Birth Control, Condoms, Spermicide, even a Plan B if there was a thought of something going wrong.

         Katakuri would be getting back from his mission in a couple days, so it’s best to just wait until then. Can’t be announcing things like this. As much as you’d prefer to sweep this under the rug, Big Mom was someone who didn’t partake in abortions, wanting a large family and everything, it’d be counter-productive in her mind. So as much as you wanted too, you’d have to go to a different island, and that included having Katakuri with you to avoid Big Mom’s gaze.

         But your plans changed quickly, despite clearly telling the Doctor to keep the news secret, the next day you arrived to the office with banners and some tastefully small cakes. Cards going around with small gifts as though it was common place to celebrate so early on. You tried to get them to calm down, but everyone was overjoyed that their leader finally had an heir on the way.

~~~

         Katakuri stared off into the distance, leaning against the wall as the ship got closer to their homeland. It had been a pointless mission, delivering a letter to a foreign country, demanding there be talks of a marriage. He hated being away from Komugi island for too long, from his normal job as the Minister of Flour. There he’d at least be able to relax a little bit more than normal, and when he was with you, he could let his guard down completely. Trusting you to cover for him or tell him if someone was coming. Being on a ship where he refused to lay down in fear of prying eyes had taken a toll on him, no matter how short the trip was.

         As the ship docked some of his administrators found him, happy as ever with large smiles. He wasn’t listening too much to their words of congratulations, assuming it was just words on finishing the mission, he just wanted to make it home so he could finally sleep on his back.

         As he was bidding farewell to those around him, one of them said something rather confusing, “Ah, tell Y/N that the mid-wife will be around to talk to her next week. I forgot to let her know earlier.” A mid-wife? For his Wife? Katakuri swallowed the lump in his throat, reasoning that it had to have been due to some unforeseen baby boom in the town.

         But as he passed through the halls of his home, he noticed servants scurrying about more than normal. All with excited faces, some with parcels in their hands. It wasn’t until he got to your room pushing the door open to see you sitting at your tea table, a hand rubbing your forehead, “If it’s another gift then send it back. How many times do I need to tell you all to keep this quiet.” Your tired voice brushing past him while you waved your hand, not even looking in the direction of the door.

         You heard the door close and let out a heavy sigh, looking to the already inconvenient pile of baby toys, clothes, and furniture that people of the island had pushed onto you. Nobody in this god forsaken town could keep quiet, which would make things so much harder, if Big Mom got word of this, you were more than certain you wouldn’t be able to pass off a random miscarriage without her knowing the truth.

         “What is all this?” You jumped a bit, hearing your husbands voice. You never even got word of his arrival to the island, much less that he had already come home.

         “We need to talk.” You voice was serious as you looked over at him, he was staring down at you unmoving. “Why not sit down?” He stayed still, crossing his arms for an explanation and you sighed again, this wasn’t normal for him, but you were already too tired to deal with it.

         Your sigh caused Katakuri to take another step further, “I get that you must be doing some fundraiser or gala. But you shouldn’t have these donations in here.” You spit out your drink, looking up at you’re normally smart husband.

         “Excuse me?” The silence as he stares at you hit you hard, “You think I’m doing a fundraiser? And you think all these stupid things are donations? Is that really what you think?!” Your annoyance peeking through clearly. First the news got, then the storm of gifts, and now even your husband seems to be getting on your nerves. “Katakuri I’m pregnant.” You shake your head, stating it out right was best in these types of situations, “So, might I suggest you sit down so we can talk abou-“

         “Your idea of a joke is awful Y/N,” He walks over to the neat stacks of gifts, all of which you were sending back when you got the chance, “I mean really? You think staging some baby items is enough to convince me? This prank is in bad taste.” His regal voice showed no sign of joking and it made you more frustrated than you already were.

         “This isn’t a joke,” You were getting another headache but the subtle glare he shot you made it clear he wasn’t going to listen, “You know what? You just got home, why don’t you rest? I’ll send these gifts back in the meantime.”

~~~

         The next day Katakuri came to his office looking a little more refreshed and prepared for the day. He sits down in the confines of the space and starts looking through the reports, “It seems you fell a little behind while I was away. Why?” His smooth tone showing you he was ignoring everything you said the day prior.

         You had expected something like this to happen so you put the paper with the test result in front of him. “You’re lovely administers made me go to the doctors after some sickness.” His eyes scanned the paper, reading every detail until you could tell he landed on the prognosis. “I’m about 2 months along.”

         Katakuri sucks in his breath, you can tell by the twist of his eyebrow that this isn’t going to be fun, deciding to sit on the couch while you wait for his response.

Honestly, you barely had time to process this all yourself, being pushed and pulled everywhere by workers. The only time you had time to think for yourself was late at night when people thought you’d be sleeping. The first night you had spent just staring into the darkness that was the room trying to figure out the situation. Truly, you could relate to what Katakuri was probably going through.

         You two never planned on being parents. You vehemently discussed avoiding parenthood the natural way, maybe adopting if you’re mother-in-law became pushy. The thing you wanted most right now was a glass of whiskey, but for clear reasons you couldn’t get one. Your body felt so tense since finding out, your muscles aching from the lack of relaxing.

You were hoping that your husband would be the one to make sense of it for you, but seeing how he’s reacted so far, he was in the same boat as you. It stung, your heart dropping slightly as you put on this front of neutrality. But it was the best you could do, if you didn’t maintain this semblance of control over yourself, you felt like you’d break down.

Finally, your husband spoke, although his words didn’t make you feel any better. If anything, it caused you to go further into the downward spiral that was your mind, “Well then whose is it?” His voice was dipped in venom but maintained a single tone, “If you wanted a kid so bad, we could have adopted.”

You bit your tongue, staring at the floor in front of you. He waited a couple second for a response but you couldn’t bring any words to come out before he continued, “You didn’t have to go behind my back like this.” His even tone made every muscle in your body tense more than they already were.

A knock at the door caught both of your attentions, yet your body was still tightly wound as you got up, opening the door to let whoever it was in. Someone with a bunch of papers and a wide smile looked back at you and you ushered them in while brushing your way out of the suffocating room.

Offering small smiles to those you passed as you hurried away from the situation. It was only after you had gotten to a small reading room and locked the door behind you that you slid down onto the floor. Your room was too far away and this was unused enough that no one would come looking here. A hand pressed against your stomach while the other tangled itself in your hair, gripping tightly to feel anything other than the heavy emotions that have flowed through you for days now.

You haven’t let anyone know of your own feelings on this matter, other than wanting to keep it on the down low, everyone assuming it was so you could Katakuri yourself, and yet somehow that one single voiced wish hadn’t come true. The entire island singing praise and you were the center of their attention.

You began panting, your throat swelling up making it hard to grasp at air, feeling your body start to shake. Even Katakuri wasn’t willing to listen. This has to be a lot for him, but I thought he loved me. Your body curling in on itself, the hand in your hair running down to grip at the back of your neck while your nails dug into your stomach. He even suggested I had cheated on him, found another man. The thought itself made you sick to your stomach, your heart beat drowning out any noise around you, and eyes squeezing shut as the world got darker around you. Am I just an object to everyone? You tried, and failed at opening your mouth, attempting to get any air to fill your compressed lungs. The beating of your heart the only reminder of that you were in fact alive.

~~~        

         Katakuri was walking down the hallways. Every time he passed someone who worked with you, he’d ask the same questions. All of them similar stories that made his heart twist with worry, and yet when he went looking for you, you were nowhere to be found. It had been hours since you disappeared from his office without a second glance, the thought of how you left was now hurting him, now that he’s had time to calm down and truly think about everything.

         Since no one could find you, he was the person that people were bringing presents too, all of which he ushered to be sent wherever you had put them, some people asking if he had seen you so they could ask more questions. He hadn’t even been back a full day and yet he was overwhelmed with so much. Stalking back to your bedroom, assuming that could be his one quiet place, maybe even find you again to try and have a conversation about everything.

         His heart jumped into his throat thinking about it, you had been trying to talk to him this entire time and each attempt was met with malice. You were so patient, letting him voice his hate and distrust. Watching you sit on the couch silently, neither confirming nor denying allegations said to you, though your knuckles turned white in your lap. But what else could he think? With every safeguard the two of you had put into place, how else could you had ended up with a child growing inside of you? Walking into your shared room he looked around, the pile of gifts in the corner seemingly doubled in size from previously in the day.         

Yet still, there wasn’t a sign of you anywhere. Katakuri paced a bit, looking for any sign that you had been here after leaving him earlier. But there wasn’t a single thing out of place or used compared to this morning. The realization that no one has seen you for most of the day hitting him with a cold sweat as he calls for security

[thesilmarillionblog]

ANOTHER LIFE

Summary: You find out that you're pregnant with Soldier Boy’s child, but knowing what Butcher’s wife has been through and that you won’t make it like her, he doesn’t want you to keep it. You try to convince him that you’ll be okay, but you need to face what’s to come.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Pregnant!Reader

Warnings: +18 (MINORS DNI), angst, hurtful, language, pregnancy, threat, pregnant sex, blood, mention of abortion, mention of death, angst with a happy ending

Word Count: 5807

A/N: English is not my first language.

With a bashful smile on your lips, you looked at Ben, whose eyes were locked on the positive result, while you joyfully looked at the pregnancy test with your hands stopped on your tummy. Since you were already married and had been living together for a while, you were confident that this news would strengthen your bond even more.

He merely stated, “We are not keeping it,” glaring at you and clenching his jaw when he saw your hands halt on your tummy. “I'll find a doctor for the abortion.”

You stood up, gently inquired, “Why?” and put your hand on his arms to stop him before he could leave the room.

You didn't understand why he was acting this way at all, because you knew he had always wanted to start a family. Right now, you ought to be enjoying the news.

Your touch tightened his muscles, and he took a deep breath. In an attempt to ease him up, you stroked his cheek, but it felt as though he was building barriers between you, just as on the day of your first meeting.

“We already know Butcher's wife's fate, don't we? You wouldn't survive such a thing.”

You smiled at him a little, realizing that he wasn't against the baby; rather, he was only worried about you. He was upset by your ease with the issue, though, as he could see that you didn't give a damn about what he said.

“Becca did not pass away during childbirth.” You attempted to comfort him. “For me, it won't be any different with good doctors.”

You glanced at him, hoping that, for the moment at least, he wouldn't be obstinate about this and would instead trust you.

"Are you even aware of what you're saying?" He questioned you in a disapproving tone, pushed your hands away from his face, and spoke out. "Just because she made it through doesn't imply you will too. What will happen, do you know? You'll be torn apart, limb by limb, by this nasty beast. You will fucking die and suffer.”

You said to him, “Ben,” in an attempt to soothe him. You gave him a hug, despite the way he shoved your hands away. “Together, we've overcome many obstacles and established a family of our own. Despite what we've been told, there was no possibility that I would become pregnant.” You squeezed his hands and remarked, “This baby is a gift.”

“A gift? It is a fucking punishment and a fucking pain on my ass already,” he grunted and hugged you back tightly.

“Stop calling the baby 'it',” you snapped out of nowhere. “Why are you being like this?”

“It is just an annoying fetus, a virus, not a baby,” he said harshly, looking at your stomach with irritation as if you were sick. “You’re going to get an abortion.”

You pushed him away from you, tears welling up in your eyes, and he withdrew his hands. You had doubts about whether he would ever reconsider.

“I won’t, Ben,” you said firmly. “I won’t just fucking murder my child. You cannot force me to do such a thing."

“You won’t murder it, but it fucking will murder you,” he yelled at you suddenly.

You took a step back, your lips parted in shock at the expression on his face. He hadn't yelled at you in such a furious manner in a very long time. You put your hands on your tummy as if he would hurt you.

His attitude toward you and the baby was crushing your heart, so you sat down on the bed. How could you even kill your own child by going under the knife because Ben believed you wouldn't survive? You were aware that childbirth always carries some risk, even in cases where the kid turned out to be normal and not a supe. Any woman who aspired to motherhood was ready to take a risk.

You said, “Why do you think I'm weaker than Becca—that she survived but I can't?” You were unsure of which was worse—his hatred for your unborn baby or his perception of your weakness.

Seeing your wet eyes, he softened his tone and said, “It's not that I think you are weak or something. It, fuck, I mean the baby, will most highly have the exact power I have; the baby will do anything to get rid of from your womb when your water breaks,” he continued, sitting by your side and taking your hand in his. “Just like I do when I'm really furious or stressed, the baby will explode if it becomes even slightly stressed or when it senses your distress. The reason Butcher's wife survived is that the baby didn't explode to escape her womb; instead, it just wanted to be out. It will be worse for you.”

You listened to him with terror, not having a single idea how and when he did learn the details about Becca’s childbirth. You were overwhelmed trying to imagine the scenario he created. That must be the reason he was acting so strangely and coldly in the last two weeks.

“How do you know such things?” You whispered, not knowing how to react.

“I already knew that you were pregnant before the stupid test. It was clear from your scent and all,” he said, looking at your locked hands. “And I searched for details about Butcher’s wife’s childbirth. We should be glad that we have an example in front of us.”

“I can’t do this, Ben. I want to keep the baby,” you sobbed, feeling pressured. “I can’t go under the knife.”

“Why are you so fucking selfish?” he asked. “Did you even fucking listen to me?”

“We don’t even know it for sure. What you’ve said is just a theory,” you said, hoping he would change his mind or at least listen to you a bit.

“It’s a fucking possibility, a high one, and it’s enough for us to get rid of this monster as soon as possible.”

“I won’t do it, Ben. I can’t have an abortion based on what you think is going to happen in the future,” you answered with a firm voice.

Even though he was able to control his abilities and the power hidden in his chest, he felt as though he was losing control of himself and his temper after witnessing your selfishness and obsession with a tiny fetus. Ben stood up and moved away from you.

He sternly remarked, “If anything happens to you, if you die in childbirth, I will kill the baby, I fucking swear.”

“Have you gone insane?” You sobbed as you realized how serious he was, and your eyes widened in terror. “How are you even able to say something like that?”

“I don't give a fuck.” He was very serious as he snapped, “I won't even blink.”

Whispering softly, “But then I’d die for nothing,” you looked at him with pleading eyes. He was not giving you a chance, but he was not giving a chance to your unborn baby either.

“Huh,” he said, biting his lip, giving you an insidious smile. “That’s something we can both agree on, sweetheart.”

After a few months, Ben spent most of his time at Vought, or God knows where, rather than respecting your decision, accepting the situation, or having a conversation about it. Despite all your efforts to talk to him, he hardly spent any time with you in the house. After two months, he no longer argued with you. He scared the shit out of you when he nearly blew up the house during your argument. Though it was selfish of you, you made the decision, knowing that he was very concerned about you and that it was hurting him to consider the uncertain future that lay ahead of you. If only he knew how much the distance in his eyes hurt you.

Your belly started to show up, and it was already too late for an abortion, which was something you didn’t even consider once. It was almost the fifth stage of your pregnancy, after all. Ben had stopped fighting with you, and you went to the hospital all alone, even though Annie and Kimiko offered to come with you.

You waited for Ben to come home the day you learned that you were pregnant with a boy. You thought that would make Ben’s heart at least a bit soften and make him a bit more eased or even glad when you shared the news as he lay beside the bed. However, he didn’t even say a single word. He just closed his eyes and let you stay on his warm chest. You were too close yet too distant.

“At least, could you say something?” You whispered to him, and he just took a deep breath and wrapped his powerful arms around your body. You begged him again, “Please,” but he kept his eyes closed and put a bit distance between your belly and his, trying not feel the growing life inside you. He considered your baby like an enemy, a monster.

Even though you were eager to enjoy your pregnancy together and fix things with him, he was acting as though you were waiting for your execution day. You knew that he was still angry with you, and he was right about it considering your uncertain future in front of you, but there was no need to live like strangers while you were married. His support and tenderness would mean a lot, at least to ease your distress.

Your unbalanced hormones weren't helping at all, as it had been a while since he touched you, and he had avoided doing so since your belly had begun to swell.

“I’m tired. Sleep,” he said firmly.

“Could you please at least come with me to the hospital for a regular check once a month? You don’t have to be inside of the room.”

“I don’t want it.”

He probably didn’t have an idea about how much the way he talked so sharply and coldly broke your heart, but you didn’t give up.

“Why not?” you asked softly, lifting your head to look at him, trying to talk about it.

“It’s just that I don’t want it,” he said with an irritated voice, cutting it short. “Are you going to force me to do something I don’t want to do again?”

You approached him and again pressed your cheek against his muscled chest, whispering, “No. But I'm so lonely.”

It was impossible to get through to him because of his stubbornness, even though you needed him to show you his love and care—at least to touch your belly and comfort you.

“How come you would feel that way?” He asked in a mocking tone, “You have your baby boy, right?”

“Can you believe that I don't even experience nausea? The doctor says it's nothing out of the ordinary, but he's not making this pregnancy physically more difficult for me or anything. He's going to be a docile boy.”

You occasionally told him about your baby, even though he didn't want to discuss anything except your personal health.

After a moment of silence, “Good for you,” he simply said. “He will be ready to blow your womb up with kindness when the time comes.”

In an attempt to soothe him and set the tone for this conversation, you added, “Ben, I won't die in childbirth, I promise you. Let's try not to make things more difficult for one another than they already are. It won't be easy, but everything will work out in the end. We must confront our future together as a married couple.”

“I told you to get rid of it, but you made every choice by yourself already, selfishly, and now you want me to act like everything's okay when it's fucking not,” he said angrily.

“Ben,” you puffed, and faintly gently stroked his muscular chest, saying, “You're not even listening, and I'm tired of arguing.” Actions speak louder than words, after all.

His eyes narrowed, and he followed your hand as it slid down his strong chest. Feeling the firmness of his body through his sweatpants, you glanced at him expectantly. All you could do was stare with anxiety as you worried that he would stop you again. But he was, you could say, enjoying himself there.

You moved quickly to go on top of him, and as you dropped the nightgown's hanger, exposing your breasts to his view but not your swollen stomach, you waited anxiously for his response. Although he didn't enjoy being the bottom or letting you ride him, he wasn't going to stop you at that moment. Your skin trembled from the cold, even if the room and his body were warm.

He was watching you with an undreadable face, not even touching you, but you knew he desired you. His shaft under you was proof.

“I’ve missed you a lot,” you said as you started to move on top of him, rubbing your pussy against his hardness.

“I can see that,” he said with a rough voice, and he urged your hips to go faster while his eyes were fixed on your breasts. “Do your best, and I might consider fucking you deep and good.”

As your hormones were kicking you hard in the last few days already, you were lost in pleasure and felt yourself getting wetter each second, and your nipples got hard while you were grinding on his hardness with swift movements.

When you sensed that your climax was approaching, you let out a loud moan. It didn't take you long to lose yourself in pleasure because he didn't touch you soon enough. But just as your lips parted with pleasure, he pushed you away from him and got on top of you. You groaned in protest as you lifted your hips to create friction again, but he stopped you turned you so that you were facing the sheets.

With a quick motion, he tore off your panties, and you could feel him taking out his hardness from his sweatpants. Your stomach wasn't flat, so you tried to move a little to find a more comfortable position, but his powerful hands and massive body prevented you from moving even an inch.

You felt he was stroking himself into your wetness from behind, and he groaned, “Stay still; don't move.” With a forceful motion, he spread your legs, and under his strong hands, your pussy throbbed with eagerness.

You pressed your face against the sheets and moaned desperately. You tried to move your hips a bit, urging him to take you already. You didn’t need him to prepare you at all because your body was already craving his presence.

“Ben, please,” you begged him, trying to face him, but he pushed your head and chest a bit hard against the sheets.

“If you want me to fuck you properly, you’ll do as I say,” he said as he pressed the tip of his cock against your entrance and pushed it inside with a rough move.

When he swiftly pushed his shaft inside of yours, you both moaned loudly. Your moan was half in pain because of his roughness and the way he pressed you against the sheets, even though you were wet enough to withstand his hardness.

He placed his bisceps on both sides of your head as he began to rapidly fuck you. He groaned as he fucked you and you felt your pussy already clenching around his cock. You arched your ass up feeling his hot panting on your neck.

You tried to concentrate on the pleasure; you kept your eyes closed, trying not to ruin the moment as he was finally taking you. Even if it hurt to feel your swollen belly pushed hard to the sheets by his heavy waist as he fucked you harder every second, you didn't stop him, tried to endure the pain.

However, as he was moving on top of you, he slammed his massive body into your back even harder, lost in pleasure, and his harsh motions and weight caused you to groan in pain. You shut your eyes, and your hands frantically grasped his wrist. You tried to comfort yourself by holding your belly with your other hand.

He instantly stopped, swearing as he allowed you to take a moment after sensing your discomfort and hearing your agonized gasp. You could feel the pleasure and pain in your legs shivering a little.

“Fuck. Are you alright?” he asked in an anxious tone as he became still within you.

You quickly nodded to him in response, saying, “I am; don't stop. Just try not to press your weight, please,” you said, keeping one hand still on your stomach as you shifted under him a little to allow to catch your breath.

Ben cursed and gazed at your hand, still on your swollen belly, as he came to his senses. As he moved on top of you to a more comfortable and safe position, he apologized in a quiet voice and gave you a firm kiss on the forehead. Your heart warmed with his tenderness for you and you smiled. Maybe you should force him to hurt you a little bit sometimes to make him show his tenderness.

One of his hands stopped on your stomach after he waited a little longer on top of you to give you a moment. Now you were waiting for him on your hands and knees. That was the first moment he touched your belly. Feeling his large, warm hand, you gasped and laid your hand on his as he began to pound into you again, more gently but still rough.

When he shifted a bit and hit your sensitive spot with a rough move, you moaned loadly and your walls clenched tightly around his cock as you orgasmed as soon as he groaned on top of you, saying, “Don’t come yet.”

Your walls continued to clenching around his cock, and he immediately began to spill inside of you as he kept cursing. He filled your pussy with his thick white ropes, and he said, “You can't even fucking listen to me just once, right? I might start to think that you're doing it on purpose to make me crazy, sweetheart.”

He pulled out his cock very carefully when it softened inside you. You felt incredibly satisfied, and bliss came over you because it had been a long time since he took you like this.

He turned you back and gave you a firm kiss on the lips. You couldn’t stop smiling between his warm kisses. You felt your body and hormones finally ease.

“Rather than keep fighting, we should have been doing this, you know,” you murmured, and you put your hands around his back. “These hormones are making me crazy.”

He chuckled softly, gave you another kiss on the forehead, and looked at your swollen belly with an unreadable face.

“I don’t even know how to fucking kill myself if anything happens to you,” he said, looking into your eyes with a pained expression. “I can’t live without you.”

You felt your heart broken under his sincere confession. You knew he was extremely concerned about you, and that was the first time he was this honest with you. Shifting under him and taking his hand, putting it on your belly, you kissed him as you said, “Why do you still have trust issues? I’m more strong than you think. I promise you, Ben. This baby will change everything in a good way. You’ll be the best daddy. You’ll see it.”

You gave him a playful smile as he moved his hand vaguely on your belly.

“Yeah,” he sighed and raised his eyebrows, looking to your body. “Best daddy to threaten an unborn baby with death and murder. What a start, right?”

You chuckled and gave him a quick kiss before you shifted under him and leaned your back to his chest.

“Well,” you said, taking his hand and putting it on your low belly. “It is a start at least.”

You closed your eyes when a sudden tiredness came over your body, and you held his hand tighter.

He pulled you to his body like you would vanish at any moment and murmered, “I’m sorry for everything I have done to you.”

“I am not,” you said with a smile on your face. “Stop overthinking, Ben.”

Ben hardly left the house, and you two began to spend the entire time together. You were worried by Vought's extreme interest in your pregnancy, and you and Ben took steps to ensure that the media was kept informed about what was going on. It was frightening and distressing to think that Vought and other devils looked after your child. That was one of the reasons you needed to endure childbirth and be strong.

You were taken to a special Vought hospital, which was a bit far away from the capital, when you reached the last stage of your pregnancy. His energetic and unpatient kicks started to hurt a lot, but you didn’t tell Ben not to stress him out any further. The energy in his chest was getting out of control lately, and there were times he nearly blew up. So, it was suggested that he not come to the hospital until you delivered the baby. You needed him to be with you so badly, but it was better for him not to see your pain.

Thankfully, Kimiko and Annie were there for you and took care of you. You didn’t want to be alone with those doctors at all. They were Vought’s doctors, after all. The boys made sure Ben didn’t blow up, and they watched over him all the time. Annie told you that Ben wanted to come nearer to the hospital at least, but you knew it wasn’t a good idea, but he kept calling you every hour, checking on you if you were doing okay though it was you that reassured him everything would be alright soon and as though he was the one to deliver a supe baby.

When your water broke in the middle of the night, there was no pain like it. Annie and Kimiko did their best to help the doctors while you were being prepared. You screamed at her not to call Ben.

As you saw the doctors prepare to cut open your stomach, Kimiko held your hands firmly above your head. Ben's theory about the baby blowing up inside of you crossed your mind as you tried to remain composed and control your breathing. You also tried to keep your mind off the pain, but before the doctors could do anything, you felt powerful kicks on your lower abdomen that tore you open and made it clear he was done with patience and wanted to be out as soon as possible. You weren't even slightly helped by anesthesia. Even though you clamped your jaw and closed your eyes so you could ignore the blood all over the bed, you couldn't help but scream.

You heard Annie gasping in shock and saying, “Oh, god. I can’t watch this.”

The knives in the doctor’s hand were everywhere in your stomach while they all tried to calm you down, but your pained screams filled the whole hospital. You felt you were losing your consciousness, even if you did your best to keep your eyes open. All you thought about was Ben at that moment and the whole thing you'd been through together. You didn’t want to prove him right about you being weak. You wished he was there with you so badly that you cried even harder.

“Take him out!” you screamed at the doctors while you were crying, and you fisted your hand till you bled your palms while Kimiko watched everything in terror in her eyes.

You watched in amazement while you saw the baby finally coming out of your stomach, which was ripped open, but you couldn’t stop smiling despite all the pain. His little chest was glowing a bit, but he wasn’t crying. You overcame the worst, you told yourself.

The room was filled with blood, and so was your baby. You wanted to reach for him, but you couldn’t manage to find the energy. You heard Annie, and the doctors were saying stuff, though you didn’t understand what it was about at all. Losing your consciousness, your eyes shut. You needed a long rest.

While doctors did their best to keep you alive for hours, it was already morning. Annie finally found the courage to call Butcher and tell him about your condition. She didn’t know how Ben would respond through the phone and wasn’t even sure if he listened to her completely, so she thought it would be better if Butcher talked to Ben.

“Congratulations, Soldier Daddy Boy,” said Butcher with an anxious voice to Ben as he entered the room. “Annie just told me Y/N delivered the baby last night.”

Butcher gave Hughie an exchange of looks while Ben’s chest started to glow as he shut his eyes.

“How is she?” Ben growled, waiting to hear the worst.

“Hey, calm down,” Billy said, putting a hand on his shoulder. The smoke was already rising from his chest, ready to blow up the whole building. “She’s not dead.”

“I’ll fucking kill you all if you are lying.” Ben pushed Butcher, with a harsh move, to the nearest wall as he tried to calm himself down. He didn’t know how long it would take him to wake up if he blew up right there. All he needed was to see if you were really okay.

Hughie gave Ben an awkward look and murmured, "Congratulations for..." but before he could say anything more, Ben pushed him against the wall next to Butcher and said, “Fuck you.”

Ben looked at the doctors, who were attempting to explain that it would take two or three months for you to fully recover, with a homicidal glare when he realized that you were dead asleep on the bed. But it wouldn’t take long you to get your consciousness back. He wouldn't even consider twice about killing those fuckers in an instant if you didn't need them.

They all told him that you were pretty strong, but it didn’t mean anything to him right there while you were half dead on the bed. His supe ears focused on your weak heartbeat behind the glass. He struggled for hours to stay calm and not explode, but it was getting impossible.

“Hey,” Annie said with an anxious voice while she gave a look to your motionless body on the bed and the look on Ben’s face as he stood without doing anything, lost in thoughts. “Would you like to see your baby? He is pretty cute.”

“Fuck off,” Ben simply said.

Hughie and Butcher approached Annie, and Hughie said, “May I see the baby? I already bought a toy,” with a shy smile on his face.

Annie gave him a warm smile and a nod and led him to the room at the end of the corridor.

At the end of the three weeks, Ben finally relieved himself a bit, seeing that your condition was getting better and your heartbeat wasn’t weak anymore. He refused to see the baby until he was sure you were finally recovering. Butcher and the others didn’t leave Ben alone, since his nerves were pretty sensitive. In addition, he knew Hughie and Kimiko were spending their whole time with the baby in his special room. Though he didn’t see the baby once, he kept asking doctors about his health and everything else. He knew he was doing alright; he was a supe baby after all.

Annie had already left the hospital a few days before. The current state of Vought worsened by Ben's sudden disappearance. The public and media weren't informed. Butcher, Hughie, and Kimiko stayed with him and with you to make sure Ben didn't lose his temper.

Ben sighed and went to visit his son when his supe hearing focused on his small mumbles. Even though it was becoming late, it didn't appear like he was sleeping. He knew you didn't suffer for hours only to see you ignore your own son, since it wasn't his fault for being a supe baby after all.

Ben saw his son watching the spinning toy reach up to his crib when he came into the room. Based on the silly lullaby that came out of it, it was most likely Hughie's present.

The moment his son began to make little noises, Ben's heart warmed. When their gazes connected, he smiled, as though he recognized his dad. He stretched for his arms, his little chest glowing. It's likely that his son sensed the familiar scent of his father.

“Hey there,” Ben murmered, his eyes fixed on his son’s chest, which kept glowing and lightening the dark room. He took him from his cradle carefully. “You’re not going to blow your daddy up, right?”

However, his chest started to return to normal as soon as Ben took him in his arms and gave a kiss to his little forehead.

“You know,” he said with a playful tone as he touched his son’s cheeks. “You are lucky your daddy’s the strongest supe in the world, but you are even more lucky your mommy is pretty strong too.”

Ben chuckled when he saw his son begin to play with the small eagle symbol on his suit and quickly rip it off. “It seems like you're a strong little man. I wonder how I'm going to sew it now.”

Ben took one of the toys from his son’s cradle, and he kept kissing his little forehead while he left the room. “Do you want to see your mom?”

Butcher and Hughie were eating sandwiches in the middle of the corridor, and Butcher smirked when he saw Ben approaching with his son on his chest and a toy in his other hand.

"Well, well, well,” he said, giving Ben a side smile. “Big bad daddy finally remembered he has a son.”

“Call me daddy again when I’m deep in your throat,” Ben murmered as he looked at your sleeping form behind the glass.

“Are you kissing your son with that mouth?” Butcher said while was drinking coke.

Ben simply said, “Fuck you,” as he led his footsteps to your room.

He didn't feel comfortable or at peace at all when he spent weeks keeping watch over your tired body in bed. But at least you were alive and would be well soon enough. Your heart was starting to beat stronger already. Last week, you even opened your eyes twice, but you fell back asleep right away.

Ben's small son's head turned as if he sensed his mother's presence before he moved his body from his chest to yours. Perhaps it was like his dad's scent that drew him in, or his supe senses in general.

He reached his little arms to your body on the bed immediately as he mumled excitedly, but Ben kept him in place.

“Hey,” said Ben, trying to distract him with the toy. “Let your mommy rest, little eagle.”

While Ben tried to calm his son down, his son's small chest started to glow while he still tried to reach his small hands to your body. He was trying to get rid of Ben’s hold. It made Ben a bit nervous for the first time in his life. So that was how people felt about his blowing-up issue when he was about to lose his temper.

“You really want to challenge me?” Ben asked. He chuckled and got closer to your body, letting his hands touch your cheeks. But he held his hands carefully, remembering that his son was a supe who didn’t have any control over his strength. “So be it.”

Feeling soft hands on your face, your eyes started to open again. You didn’t know what day it was or if you were alive or dead. You frowned at your eyes, feeling tired as hell. Your stomach also hurts a lot.

“Ben?” You murmered with a small voice, trying to stay awake and not fall asleep again.

All you heard was him arguing, but you didn’t understand what was going on at all. Then you heard him saying “fuck” and pushing a button beside your bed. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

Your eyes met with the most beautiful face you’ve seen in your entire life, and you gathered your whole strength to touch your son’s face as he kept mumbling while his hand was touching your cheek as though he were trying to talk to you. He was worth everything you've been through.

“I am okay, just tired,” you murmered as your eyes watered. “He’s so beautiful. I can’t believe he’s mine.”

“Actually, ours. He is and is also pretty strong. He ripped off my fucking suit,” Ben chuckled as he stilled your son with his big hands, sitting on your bed carefully. “I have missed you so fucking much.”

“I’ve missed you too,” you said giving him a smile. “I told you I would survive, right?”

“Yeah,” he said proudly, squeezing hand hand softly. “I’m so fucking glad you were right about everything.”

“Stop swearing, Ben. The first word he’s gonna say will be ‘fuck’ because of you,” you giggled. “Are you kissing our son with that mouth?”

He chuckled and said “I’ll do worse things with that mouth,” as leaned and gave you a firm kiss.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

A/N: My idea was to kill the reader from the very beginning, but she convinced me not to do it. I always thought fanfiction and the characters had power over the writers, not vice versa. I guess fanfictions write themselves; maybe we, as writers, create nothing at all. Comments and reblogs are very appreciated! Check my masterlist for other Soldier Boy / Reader stories.

[dead-dove-yandere]

TW: Stalking, obsession, medical abuse, manipulation, needles

You were exhausted. Dr. Hart had been going through every medical test he could think of, trying to get you some kind of diagnosis. He’d shone an ophthalmoscope into your eyes, inspected your throat with a tongue depressor, he’d tested as many reflexes as he could think of, he’d listened to your heart and breathing with a stethoscope, he’d even taken your blood pressure three times. Everything came back normal. Your eyes stung as you felt like you could burst into tears. You did your best to swallow the painful lump in your throat as he helped take the cuff of the blood pressure monitor off of your arm.

“Do not panic,” Dr. Hart hushed in that sweet, soft spoken voice of his. “We haven’t found anything yet. But I am not going to give up. We will get to the bottom of this mystery of yours.” You give him a weak smile through your wet eyes in response. You wanted to be comforted. You could tell he was trying his best. But you just couldn’t bring yourself to feel any better.

“I will have to refer you for some more in depth tests. Ultrasounds, MRIs, X-Rays, just in case it’s something internal and less outwardly obvious. But first, I want to try another blood test. It can’t hurt to double check, after all. Is that alright?” He asks. You nod, too upset to speak, and hold out your arm as he set up a butterfly needle. You flinch as he comes closer, but he makes sure to go slowly and hush you gently throughout the entire process. You feel the pads of his fingers gently pressing against the crook of your elbow, the latex of the glove squeaking as he feels for a vein.

“This will pinch a bit,” he warns, his steady hands gentle but firm as he holds you still, inserting the needle into your vein and beginning to draw it. You look away as the blood begins to flow into the tube, but Dr. Hart watches intently.

“I’ll take a bit extra, as usual,” he says. “Better to have too much than not enough.” He keeps drawing until he has his desired amount, and then he quickly and carefully takes the needle out, disposing of it into a sharps bin and pressing gauze over the site to staunch the bleeding.

“Keep that on for a while. I’ll let you know when the results come. In the meantime, keep taking the medicine I gave you. Trust me. It will work.” He offers you a warm smile and he says it with conviction that you’re convinced he must be right. You mumble a meek thank you and leave his office, ready to go home and take a nap. The moment you’re gone, Dr. Hart clutches the vials of blood tightly, gazing at the dark red of your deoxygenated blood. He knows he’ll have to give half of it to the lab to be tested, and it annoys him that such a precious fluid will ultimately be wasted. But he knows he can keep the rest. He unlocks a drawer in his desk and slides it open, admirably the contents like a treasure. The drawer is lined with soft padding, and nestled in are dozens more vials of your blood, all taken as “spare” everytime he’s subjected you to yet another blood test. He places his latest prize in with the rest of them, then slides the drawer shut again.

Dividers Credit: See Pinned Post

[rollinouttahere-writes]

helloo! I just saw your Valentine's Day event and was wondering if I can request for a milk chocolate no.17 with sanji? thank you in advance and hope you're having a nice day!! 💖

... I went over 1000 words again...

I decided to make this one vanilla, I hope you like it!

Sanji x GN!Reader

1.3k words

Prompt:

I don’t deserve you, but I want you. Is that so wrong?

Sanji being doting was hardly unheard of, it was seemingly in his blood. Lately, however, it had been borderline excessive. It was normal for you to receive an extra treat or drink when Sanji was serving meals and snacks, but now you were on the receiving end of some special treatment. Rather than getting a share of what everyone else was having, he was making food specifically, and only, for you. 

Admittedly, it had taken you a while to notice the behavior, with Luffy being the one to call attention to it when he realized that you had gotten extra food. Naturally, he’d wrapped himself around Sanji while loudly demanding some, too. 

Sanji had yelled at him that he literally just ate and not every single thing that comes out of the kitchen needs to go to him, but it was a losing battle. Resulting in Sanji having to abandon the conversation you two had been having to make your bottomless pit of a captain something to eat lest he “starve to death”. The bickering had been funny, but you couldn’t help but dwell on the fact that Sanji had gone out of his way to make something just for you.

It made you feel special, though you couldn’t be sure why he suddenly started doing this. Before he began acting this way, he’d been borderline avoidant of you for a while. What had changed?

The doting had only ramped up from there. Every time the ship docked at a populated island he would come back to the ship with a gift for you, and that was excluding the instances where he’d talked you into exploring the town with him. On those occasions, he’d bought you numerous gifts if you so much as looked at something for too long. Any attempt to dissuade him would be shot down with him insisting that you deserved it and he wouldn’t be discouraged. 

On top of that, he’d been awfully touchy. If you were walking together, he’d insist that you hold his arm so that “you don’t get separated”. Whenever you were in close quarters, he’d take any opportunity to brush up against you. When he would pass behind you, he would place his hand on your lower back. Again, not abnormal in and of itself, but the frequency of his touches was noticeably higher than it usually would be.

If this was anyone else, you would easily come to the conclusion that this person was crushing on you hard. But, with Sanji, it was harder to determine that. He was a chronic flirt, at what point could his actions truly be considered unusual? Was this a serious interest he was taking in you, or was simply being extra nice to you because you were all crewmates? Without a full on confession, you felt stuck in a will-he-won’t-he limbo. What you wouldn’t give to guarantee that this would end on the ‘will he’ side.

All of this led you to tonight. Sanji had invited you to come taste test some new dishes. You aren’t sure why he insisted on doing this in the middle of the night, but who were you to question a culinary genius?

But the most likely answer was that he was praying Luffy would be asleep and wouldn’t disturb you two this time.

Dim lights are shining under the door as you make your way to the kitchen. The sound of dishes clanking against the table could be heard from the hallway. Before the door was even open, several delicious aromas flooded your senses. Oh, you were definitely going to enjoy this taste test.

You quietly slip into the kitchen and are a little surprised at what you see. You’ve been present for Sanji’s food experimentation before, and never before did it come with a beautifully set table and candles. Rather than a collection of miscellaneous dishes, there were only two plates on the table sitting opposite from each other.

Sanji was standing at the kitchen counter adding the finishing touches to a decadent looking cake, and he was so focused on icing it perfectly that he had yet to notice that you were here already.

For the most part, barring a couple of fashion atrocities, Sanji liked to dress well, but he looked especially refined right now. He’d ditched his typical three piece suit, instead settling for some black dress pants and a silk shirt that was only buttoned up half way. The rolled up sleeves accentuated his defined forearms, making them downright difficult to tear your eyes away from.

Needless to say, you were feeling painfully underdressed in your pajamas. What can you say? You thought this was about to be a glorified midnight snack session, not a candlelit dinner.

Before you could attempt to sneak out and put on literally anything else, Sanji finally saw you. He tensed, likely surprised that you got the drop on him, but quickly recovered and turned to face you properly. He smiled so warmly that it distracted you from your previous embarrassment.

“You’re here! I’m glad, I was worried you might change your mind,” he averted his eyes, and there was a noticeable red tint to his face. 

“I would never pass up on an opportunity to try some more of your food.” Doing so would be simply insane. You scratched the back of your neck as you glanced down at your pajamas again, “So, uh… Should I go change? This looks like it might be a bit more than a taste test.”

“No!” Sanji all but shouted, only to backpedal into a softer tone, “No, you don’t have to do that. I think you look breathtaking.”

You decided to internally agree to disagree on that point. Though you couldn’t help but notice how he neglected to confirm or deny that this invitation was for something more than what he initially said it was.

Sanji took the cigarette he’d been smoking and snuffed it out in an ashtray before approaching you directly. Once he was in front of you, he hesitated for only a moment before taking your hands in his. Your heart rate increases as you begin to think you know where this is going. Was this actually happening? Is he going to confess?

“I don’t deserve you, but I want you. Is that so wrong?” The words were spoken so softly that you wondered if you heard him right. He continued, “I know that I’ve said things to this affect countless times before, but I’m not saying this just for the sake of flattering you. I mean it. Even if it is wrong and selfish, I can’t go on denying the truth. I love you.”

The gray-blue eye that had been locked onto your intertwined hands drifted up to your own eyes. Many emotions hung onto his every micro-expression. Fear. Adoration. Distress. Relief. Trepidation. Excitement. A dominant emotion ebbed into all of them. Love.

There wasn’t a doubt in your mind as to whether or not he meant it. You felt like he’d all but bared his soul to you, and he probably would do just that if he could. Every word of that was true, you knew it.

This was an intensely romantic moment. Ideally, you should maintain the atmosphere by responding in kind with your own touching confession.

Unfortunately, the excitement from him admitting his feelings may have fried your brain. Instead of carefully chosen words, you launched yourself at Sanji, wrapping your arms around him and pressing an almost frantic kiss against his lips.

The force of the action made both of you lose your footing and collapse into a heap on the ground. You pull away, worried that you may have hurt him. For a moment he just stares ahead with a blank, shocked look on his face. Then it morphs into a grin and- literal hearts appear in his eyes?

And then it’s his turn to all but attack you with a kiss of his own. You’re pretty sure he’s completely forgotten about the dinner.

[one-idea]

Let’s keep going with Wado Ichimonji’s point of view.

When they arrive at Lodgetown the whole place is weird. Wado was already annoyed because Zoro insisted on getting two new swords. She can already tell that this is NOT the place to get quality swords. She going to get stuck once again with two blades not worthy of Zoro’s skill and it will just be a matter of time until they can’t take his strength anymore and break. (If he has to use other blades can he at least wait until they find high quality blades like her)

Then on top of it they run into Tashigi. The kiuna look a like makes Wado physically rattle in her scabbard. How dare this look a like come here and mock her old masters memory! How dare she mess with her boys head!

Eventually they get away from her and Zoro finds his way to the swords shop. And Wado hears it. This incessant whining. And she realizes two things. There is at least ONE grade blade in this store. This normally would fill her with hope. Finally a companion she could talk to. Obviously they aren’t one of the 21 great blades like she is, but it’s a definite improvement. Except for the second thing she realizes. This blade is cursed. And she won’t shut up! Whining for a new master so that she can kill again (until she kills her master again)

She’s just so annoying.

And she’s currently in a barrel of regular swords. This sales man is an idiot. All she can hope is that Zoro doesn’t hear her calls.

The shop owner then tries to BUY her from Zoro. He’s not just an idiot he’s a greedy imbecilic. Luckily that annoying look alike arrived and recognized her. And off course the Kuina look alike would know her name (sigh) but at least Zoro know it now! Her boy is calling her by name! He knows just how incredible she is now, one of the 21 great grade blades! Maybe she can forgive this look alike.

Except she leads Zoro right to that cursed blade.

No! Death for look a like! Wado will never forgive her for this.

Except Zoro already knows this blade was cursed. He had heard her calls the moment he walked into the store. Because of course he did. Her boy is the best. He can hear their (the swords) voices so well. But why Her.

Sandai Kitetsu is this new blades name.

As soon as Zoro touches her she starts begging. Begging for blood. Begging for battle. And Wado knows Zoro’s heart. Knows him to be a loyal and honorable man.

She also knows he’s feral and bloodthirsty in his own way. Has been since he was a child.

Sandai Kitetsu is calling for the right person. And of course her idiot son hears this curse blade voice, and is warned by two people not to use her. And what does he decide? To test his luck against the swords curse by throwing it in the air and seeing if it will chop of his arm. Wado is furious.

Wado already knows the end result.

Sandai Kitetsu spins right past his arm. Not just past it but the back of her blade faced Zoro’s arm the whole time. She never would have cut him.

Wado can hear her clearly now when Zoro picks her up again.

“New master! Strong master! Won’t hurt master! You’re like me, you’re hungry to fight like me. Please let me fight!”

Her whining is incessant. It won’t stop! Wado already hates her. She not worried about Zoro falling to the curse, he’s to strong and two stubborn for that. And she can tell Sandai Kitetsu won’t hurt him as long as he brings her to battle. But does she have to be so annoying!

The swords sales man has been talking this whole time but Wado hadn’t been paying attention. To focused on her future roommate and annoyance to care for this human. Until she hears another voice

Yubashiri, a skillful grade blade. Far superior to this whining grade blade but not as great as she. It will do for a companion.

Yubashiri is quieter than Sandai Kitetsu, but that’s not hard. A hurricane is quieter than Sandai Kitetsu. But Yubashiri only talks when necessary. Wado is grateful for that.

Now Zoro has two high level blade plus her one of the 21 great blades. They will take Zoro farther in his journey. All the way to the top.

(Is it wrong of her to hope that he breaks Sandai Kitetsu?)

Regardless they leave the shop. And find their way back to their King. Only that stupid clown is back. And he’s trying to kill their King! How dare he!

So much happens. They almost lose their king, something Wado will not except, for Zoro won’t except it. Zoro needs his captain, they need their king. But he is saved by what the cook calls a miracle. Wado calls it to close and will never let it get that close again. Then they have to fight look a like. And Wado was right. The girl may look like Kuina, but she doesn’t fight like her. Zoro wins quickly and without any true struggle. THAT’S HER BOY!

Now they are on their way to the grand line.

The swords take the time to get accustomed to each other. Yubashiri is quick to accept their role in the ship, Luffy is captain and king, the rest of the crew is namaka. They protect the crew.

Sandai Kitsune is not as impressed. Why are they following the rubber boy? I mean as long as he brings her to a good fight then he’s alright in her book, but why protect him? Or the others? Swords are made to fight. If they attack we fight them.

Wado gets tried of trying to explain to a curse blade why she needs to care. It’s because Zoro cares! But it’s fine. She didn’t like their King at first either. Sandai Kitsune will understand soon.

Or Zoro won’t keep her around.

Maybe it’s best if Sandai Kitsune never understand why Luffy is King!

(She will. Once they get to the grandline. Once she sees Luffy and Zoro in action together. Once she see what it means to fight Luffy in Wiskey peaks)

[ellephlox]

Obstinacy

Summary: You get sick and refuse to let Matt help you because you don’t want him to get sick, too — the question is, how long can you keep him away?

Pairing: Matt x fem!reader

Warnings: Some gross pneumonia descriptions, light swearing, nothing else!

A/N: So I’ve been away for awhile, and I’m really sorry about that. I’ve been trying to write my own book and I finished the second draft, so taking the time for fan fiction has been on the back burner lately. But of course with the RETURN OF OUR BELOVED KING on She-Hulk, I had to take the time to write something because IM STILL FREAKING OUT GUYS MATT IS BACK AND HES SO AMAZING AND HOT AND ALLSKJF LSDKFJLSKDJFLSDK

You felt the chest pain on your way home from work — the kind that arrived out of nowhere, as though it dropped from the sky into your lungs, and seriously made you wonder how colds were able to work that quickly. 

Of course, maybe it wasn’t a cold. You kept your hopes up as you cooked dinner, testing your chest a few times with a few large intakes of breath, but each time was the same result: a small tickle in the back, like a little voice saying, Hey, I’m here, and you’re going to be miserable for the next couple of days! 

Which really stunk, if you were being honest. It was getting towards mid-October and you were hoping to carve pumpkins with Matt or do some other corny autumn activity that every other normal couple did in the city. Not that you two weren’t normal. But other couples didn’t really have to contend with the whole I’ll-see-you-later-honey-after-I-beat-up-some-bad-guys-tonight, and you figured it must make movie nights a lot more frequent for most people than it did for you and Matt. That was another thing on your list, too — watching a horror movie to get into the Halloween spirit. 

“I’m not into horror movies,” Matt had said when you’d pitched the idea to him. “Audio commentary kind of kills the whole scary aspect.”

“Then you’re watching the wrong movies. I don’t mean movies with gallons of blood and cheap jump scares. I mean psychological horrors, the kinds that make you stay awake at night because they’re that freaky. We’re doing it, Murdock, whether you want to or not.”

Whether you want to or not, however, didn’t include the extenuating circumstances of getting sick.

It took longer than usual to get up the stairs to your apartment. You felt so drained that you wouldn’t have minded showering and then crashing into bed, if you weren’t hungry. The wind rattled at your windows as you cooked a big pot of rice, enough to last the next few days. You’d bought fixings yesterday to make a homemade curry with it, but one look at your pantry and you scrapped those plans in exchange for half a jar of pesto with a dubious expiration date on it. Matt wasn’t supposed to be over until after seven in the evening, thanks to the unforgiving hours of lawyering, but you called him as you stirred the pesto in with the rice. 

“I was wondering when you’d call,” he said. His voice was lighthearted. 

“Hi,” you said, as casually as possible. “How was your day?”

“I officially reduced the pile of paperwork on my desk from ten inches high to eight inches high, so I’d call it a success. You at your place?”

“Yeah. Hey, I wanted to let you know that I think I’m coming down with something, so maybe you should stay at your own place tonight.” Before Matt could ask, you added, “I’m fine. Just one of the colds that’s going around. But I’d feel horrible if you got it.”

“What about the pumpkins?”

“Pumpkins can wait. I haven’t even bought them yet.”

“Oh.” He sounded disappointed, and your stomach flipped. What a way to boost my self-esteem that he actually likes me. “How about we just don’t share sodas, then?”

You frowned. “Last time this happened, I told you to stay away from me and then you just ended up kissing me. The next day, lo and behold, you started coughing. So, no. Not happening.”

“You kissed me, if I remember correctly.”

“Excuse me? What kind of a lawyer are you? That’s gaslighting, sir.”

He continued, ignoring you. “Maybe I’ll just hear some suspicious noises coming from your apartment tonight. And then I’ll have to investigate, because it’s my civic duty as the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. And when I see a beautiful girl, sitting on the couch and pathetically eating rice and pesto alone, I’ll just have to join her. Accidentally, of course.”

“What I’m interpreting from that is that you go cuddle up with any girl that you find eating alone in her apartment.”

“What I’m interpreting is that Matt says he’s doing all these dangerous things at night but really he’s just chilling out while enjoying the lavish praise of being a local superhero,” Foggy said, his voice distant in the background. 

You snorted. “Am I on speakerphone?”

“No,” Foggy answered, sounding far too cheerful for someone working far beyond sunset. “Matt just keeps his phone volume weirdly high for someone who supposedly has super-hearing.”

“I do have super-hearing, Foggy.”

“Then how are you not shattering your eardrums? Between your phone volume and crashing at girls’ apartments to eat rice and pesto, I’m really doubting this whole Daredevil façade,” Foggy said. 

“Anyway,” Matt cut in, “I’ll pop in tonight, just to bring over some food and meds. Do you want anything specific?”

“Matt, really. I don’t want you catching this. And it’s late, you should get home and actually get some sleep for once. I’m fine, it just feels like a cold.” You would have elaborated, but your chest decided to seize at that moment, and you had to trail off quickly before it became apparent in your voice. 

He sort of listened to you that night. He had swung by (through the window? Or with the spare key you’d given him? There was no way to know) and dropped off food, but it was while you were asleep, and it looked as though he’d only gone into the kitchen then left. 

You’d only found the food when you wandered in blearily at three in the morning, sweating and freezing at the same time. There was no point for the thermometer; a fever was obvious and you didn’t particularly care what the number was. The cough was worse, though. It made it hard to fall back asleep — every few seconds you’d feel as though your lungs were spasming, and the back of your throat felt as though it had been bitten by fire ants. 

Sirens rang in the distance. You hoped it wasn’t for something Matt was involved in; not because you didn’t trust him to handle it, but because it was three in the morning and you’d kick his ass if he wasn’t sleeping at this point. 

Then the headache hit you. Maybe you wouldn’t be kicking his ass anytime soon. 

The pressure was enough to make you stumble into the counter as you rummaged for a glass of water. Everything about your arms felt off, as though your muscles had been crushed into powder, and you misjudged your grasp on the glass. It fell, crashing to the floor and skating outwards like a nebula of knives. Automatically you reached for the paper towels, and in your haze you stepped forward. 

Barefooted. 

Glass crunched under your foot and you swore, not at the pain but at your own stupidity. It took another half an hour to bandage up the bottom of your foot and at that point you were too exhausted to finish cleaning up the glass. 

When you woke up next, sun was filtering through your curtains and your mouth was as dry as though you’d swallowed ten cotton swabs. Dazed, you picked up your phone, and squinted at the notifications; one missed call from Matt and a followup text. Quickly you sent him an I’m okay message and then fell back onto your pillow. 

The fever felt worse. Goosebumps ran up and down your legs, but you were simultaneously sweaty under your sheets, so you threw them off to go shower. Only then did you remember the glass you’d stepped on because your foot protested angrily as soon as you placed it onto the carpet. 

Hopping was the only option remaining, and that expended just about every ounce of energy you’d garnered while sleeping, so that you just about collapsed against the bathroom wall, wheezing, by the time you’d made it. And of course that was when your phone rang, so you hopped back to your room, and barely made it in time before it went to voicemail. 

“Hello?” you croaked. 

“That’s all I need to hear. I’m coming over.”

“I... what?”

“Yeah. You sound terrible, Y/N.” Matt’s voice was overly concerned, and you didn’t like it at all; you could practically feel the pity coming off of him. At least, it felt like pity. And that wasn’t what you wanted. 

“Matt, not only will I personally make you rue the day that you step foot in here while I’m sick, but—” You broke off, coughing, and wincing at the same time because you could imagine Matt’s expression on the other end.

“I don’t like talking to you over the phone,” he said in a low voice. “I hate not hearing your heartbeat, hearing your lungs, feeling your temperature. You’re being overruled. I’m coming.”

“Don’t you have to be at the court today?”

“Not until ten.”

Defeated, you flung the phone on the other side of the room. That conversation sucked out everything you had, and you gave up on the idea of taking a shower. The bed looked much more comfortable. It didn’t help that your breaths were getting alarmingly short, and it was difficult to draw in anything more than a quick inhale. Your eyes were closed for about five seconds before they popped back open. 

Matt was coming. Damn it, damn it, damn it. You went to the windows and locked them all, then crossed to the front door. He had a spare key, but you also had a bolt, and you slid it across, feeling somewhat proud of yourself for having made the trek to the entryway. The bar is very, very low at this point. 

You’d run a marathon right now before letting Matt get anywhere near you. That resolve was the only thing penetrating the fog around your head, and you double-checked the windows again. It wasn’t as though he’d be leaping and climbing up to them, anyway; he was coming from the office, and would therefore be in his lawyer suit. With the number of people down on the streets and the broad daylight, Matt would be hard-pressed to make it up to your fire escape without the newspaper headline being BLIND ACROBAT BREAKING AND ENTERING IN HELL’S KITCHEN the next day. 

Sure enough, ten minutes later Matt was outside your door, and his sharp rap on the door did nothing to make you move. You sat at the counter, sipping on some water, and shook your head. “Nope. Not happening.”

“Y/N, I can hear the crackling in your lungs,” he said, his patience more intact than you would have expected. He thinks he’s going to win.

“My lungs aren’t crackling. They’re just... not feeling so hot.” Now overly-conscious of your breathing, you tried to make your breaths smoother and less obviously sick. 

There was a pause on the other side of the door. “You’ve got too fast of a heartbeat. Unlock the bolt or I’ll kick the door down.”

“Yeah, my heart’s racing, because there’s a man threatening to kick my door down,” you said, and feeling inspired, you clicked the on button of the remote next to you. The television flashed to life, showing the weather report, and you turned the volume up. Take that, Matt. “See? No more lung crackling or racing heartbeats.”

The only issue was that now you could hardly hear him. You barely made out his next sentence, it was so faint on the other side of the door. “I can still hear both, you know,” he said, muffled. “You know how many televisions there are in the average block of apartments that I have to filter out every single night?”

“Shit.” You shut the television off. “Listen away, then. It’s not going to change anything because I’m not letting you in.” 

“I wasn’t kidding about kicking the door down.”

"And I’m not kidding about not letting you in. Plus, you’d have some tough questions to answer when my neighbors report you for kicking down my door, Devil Man.”

“Why won’t you accept help when you need it? You really need a doctor.”

“Hypocrite,” you said under your breath, relishing the fact that he could hear you.

“I can hear you.” Just as you’d expected. “And what I do is irrelevant to the fact that you’re currently sitting in your apartment with what’s probably pneumonia.”

“Oh, it’s not pneumonia,” you said dismissively, though you felt awful enough that he was probably right. At least, your lungs seemed to concur with that diagnosis, and as if to verbally agree with him you coughed, wheezing and choking for air.  

“If I didn’t have to be at the court in half an hour, I’d go home and get into the suit just to have an excuse to come through your window right now.” Matt was pissed, that was for sure. There was a dangerous undertone to his voice, softened only by that ever-present concern in what he was saying. 

“I know, Matt.” You rolled your eyes. “It’s a lost cause, alright? Tomorrow I’ll be feeling a lot better and then maybe — maybe — I’ll let you come in. And that’s if we keep all the windows open for fresh air and—”

“Why do I smell your blood?”

You glanced down at your foot. Traitor. It had stopped bleeding ages ago, but you should’ve changed the bandage again one more time before Matt showed up. “I’m... doing acupuncture. On myself.”

“Y/N.”

“Fine. I made a blood oath and pricked my thumb to assure myself that I will never, ever let you catch a sickness from me.”

“In ten seconds this door is coming down unless you tell me. And if you could hear my heartbeat, you’d know I’m not lying.”

“Fine! I just stepped on some glass, okay? But my foot is fine, it’s seen worse days. I mean, you should’ve seen that time that I got a pedicure and the lady told me my heels were the most cracked she’d seen in a long time.” You were rambling, and that wasn’t a good idea, because it made you lose your breath and then you were gasping for air. 

After another five minutes of arguing that ended only when you swore to call the doctor if you got any worse, he left, grumbling that Foggy would kill both of you if he was late for court, and that was the only reason he was giving up — “temporarily”. 

Only when it was too late did you realize that was a mistake, and that you should have let him help.  

It was past two in the afternoon when you woke up from a nap, and every muscle in your body felt as though it were frozen. You were trembling slightly from the cold, but couldn’t muster the energy to even sit up and grab the blanket at the foot of your bed. It was difficult to swallow, and you clutched at your throat, certain that someone must be standing over you and clasping their hands around your neck, but there was no one there. 

“Matt,” you whispered, expecting him to be there, or to hear you, but there was no one. Taking slow breaths, you tried to calm down on your own. One, two, three. One, two, three. All you could manage were short, raspy breaths that hardly got enough air, and your head pounded. Blindly you reached out for your glass of water, and nearly dropped it again, your hands were shaking so much. The feeling of your lips against the rim was like pressing a dried sponge to the edge of a bowl and the water tasted sour in your mouth. 

And then you tried swallowing. It was as though someone had blocked up your throat, because you couldn’t swallow, and you gasped, heart racing as panic flooded through you; for a moment you couldn’t breathe and then you finally coughed up the water, chest heaving from the sharpness of each cough. You grabbed a tissue, hacking into it for at least another thirty seconds, and finally a glob of mucus came up and your airway cleared up just enough that you could breathe a bit more. 

You almost tossed the tissue to the floor without looking at it, but a flash of red caught your eye. 

Blood. In the mucus. 

That was the tipping point for you. Didn’t people die shortly after coughing up blood in the movies? That was how it went. A character coughs, looks into their hand, and then resignedly tucks it away without the other characters seeing. It was like the knoll of death, ringing in your ears. 

You hardly knew what you were doing as you dialed Matt’s number, not even thinking about what you were tapping into your phone but allowing muscle memory to guide you. 

“Hello?” He picked up almost immediately. 

“Matt—” You started to speak his name, but halted; it was too painful. Dropping your voice to a whisper, you started over. “Matt, I think I need you here.”

“What? What is it?” 

“I’m—” You glanced down at the tissue. Literally dying here? That was a surefire way to make Matt have a heart attack. “I’m not doing so well. I might take you up on your offer to help.”

He didn’t hesitate. “I’ll be over in five minutes. Did you call the doctor already?”

“No.” The thought of calling the doctor was exhausting on its own. 

Matt seemed to notice that. “I’ll call,” he assured you. “Can you breathe alright?”

“Not really.” Tears were spiking in your eyes and you brushed them away. “I just coughed and... there was some blood in it.” You wheezed for breath, the drawing in of air rattling everything inside of you and getting caught at the top of your throat.

“I’m taking you to a hospital.”

“But—”

“No, sweetheart. You need a real doctor. I’ll be over in a minute.”

Somehow you must have fallen asleep again, because Matt was lifting you from the bed and you wrapped your arms around him. “Can’t breathe,” you whispered, gasping for breath. 

“I know. I can hear your lungs,” Matt said, voice strained. “I’ve got a cab waiting on the street. Can you walk or do you need me to carry you?”

“I... I can walk.” You slung an arm around him and made your way slowly out of the room, limping with every step on your bandaged foot. Matt, to his credit, allowed you to do what you could. His tie was loosened and his suit jacket was gone, but he still wore a button-down, tucked into his pants. 

“Bet you won your case, then,” you whispered, hardly even aware of what was coming out of your mouth. “No one can... say no to this.”

“This?”

“Hm. This.” You meant to nod up and down at Matt, but it came across as more of a head shake. “You.”

And then your assertion that you could walk proved difficult to fulfill, so you redirected your efforts to not face-planting in your living room, despite the strong, steady hands Matt kept on you the entire time. Once you reached your stairs he took over for the most part; your feet were hardly touching the ground with the amount of support he was giving. 

That was where your memory cut out. You must have passed out, because the next time you opened your eyes, it was in the hospital bed, and Matt was reading next to you, his long gaze fixed on the wall in front of him as his fingers danced over the text. 

“Hi,” you whispered lamely. Everything about you was groggy and it was hard enough just to focus on him. 

Him. Only he could look handsome in a hospital. At some point he’d exchanged the suit for a tee shirt and sweats, and his hair stuck out at every angle possible. You wondered vaguely if he’d come from Fogwell’s. 

He set the book down, relief evident on his face. “Hey, sweetie. How are you doing?”

You ignored his question. “How do you always manage to look good?”

He nudged you. “I should be the one asking you that.”

“That’s... the biggest lie I’ve ever heard. Even if you weren’t blind, it’d be a lie.” You closed your eyes, then opened them again. The ceiling was too white. “What happened?”

"Aspiration pneumonia.”

“Hm?”

“You have aspiration pneumonia,” he said. “Which just happens to be a type of pneumonia that’s not contagious.”

You meditated on this. “So?”

“So you could’ve let me into your apartment, that whole time,” he said, looking distinctly indignant, and it was enough to make you laugh. The laugh was short-lived, because it quickly transformed into a wracking cough that made your entire chest throb, but Matt was on his feet in an instant, holding your hand.

Only when the coughing stopped did you remember the bolt on your door. “Matt?”

“Yeah?”

“How’d you get in?”

“Broke down the door, like I promised.”

“Are... are you serious? What about the neighbors?”

He laughed. “You know, breaking down a door isn’t incriminating evidence that I’m Daredevil. I told them you were having an emergency, and when they saw you, they believed me.”

“They saw me?” You didn’t remember an audience when Matt was helping you out of the apartment.

“Well, you were taking your sweet time on the stairs, and coughing loudly enough for anyone in a mile radius to hear you, so yeah, they wanted to see what was happening.”

You buried your face in your hands. “That’s just great. And now, what, is my apartment wide open for anyone to go in?”

“No, I called in a favor with Foggy, and he’s hanging out there until someone can come in and fix it.”

“Even better. Now I’m indebted to Foggy.”

Matt smiled coyly. “Oh, and I should mention—”

“Oh, no. What?”

“—that there’s something else you’ll love about all of this.”

“Stop smiling like that. Why are you smiling like that?”

“Aspiration pneumonia is commonly associated with the institutionalized elderly. In other words, it’s a nursing home problem.”

“A nursing home problem?”

“A nursing home problem,” he confirmed. “I was thinking that maybe for your next birthday I could get you fitted for dentures.”

“Hilarious. Really, so funny. You really should have been a comedian. I swear to you that the next time you get sick, I’m going to make fun of you and you’ll never hear the end of it. Got it?”

He grinned and squeezed your hand. “Murdocks don’t get sick.”

“That is the second biggest lie I’ve ever heard. I seem to recall that time you projectile-vomited off of the Ferris wheel.”

“Because I was motion-sick, not sick-sick.”

Your eyelids were already getting heavy just from the five-minute conversation. You beckoned him closer and leaned onto his shoulder, pressing yourself into his warmth. He smelled like fresh deodorant and coffee. “Pumpkin carving as soon as I can leave?”

“Definitely,” he said, placing your fingers onto the pulse that drummed under his wrist. “And this time, I’m not lying.”

[mistystepmoonbeam]

Reborn into BG3: Chapter 7

You're reborn into BG3 with only the memory of your past life. Now you're Tav's companion on his journey, and must learn about yourself as much as your new reality.

Chapter 7: To the goblin camp!

Word count: 2.1K

The next morning you’re exhausted and nauseated.  You aren’t sure how much blood Astarion took but it was enough to get Tav flitting around you, his mother duck feathers ruffled.  

It’s hard not to look at Astarion as you try to gauge the vampire’s attitude—does he want to tell the others?  After feeding on Tav the others just seemed to know in the morning once you start talking to him, so you’re at a loss for words stuck between wanting to tell the truth, and wanting to earn Astarion’s trust.

“Looks like you and Astarion had a late night last night,” Karlach interjects with a wide grin.  “Saw him slinking out of your tent in the wee morning hours.  Gotta say I’m a little jealous—of both of you I mean.  Getting to touch another person like that…”

Gale chokes on his water, sputtering and coughing behind you. 

“I don’t think that’s what they were doing, Karlach,” Shadowheart says.  “Unless it was before he took a bite.”

Karlach laughs.  “Isn’t biting part of the fun?”

“Biting?” Tav questions.

You lift your arm, expecting to see dried blood and two little holes in your wrist but it’s completely normal.  Even whatever blood hadn’t made it into Astarion’s mouth was nowhere to be seen.

Shadowheart reveals, “I healed the wound and cleaned up the blood.  Astarion didn’t want to be blamed for you bleeding out in the middle of the night.  Nor did I.”

“Thanks,” you respond, eyes still on your wrist.  If you didn’t feel like throwing up it’s like it never even happened.

Gale appears at your side.  “To each their own, I always say, but if it leads to such dire circumstances perhaps you should find yourself a more suitable partner.”

“For the love of—“ Astarion cries out.  “We didn’t have sex!  I fed—I’m a…I’m a vampire.”

That little admission didn’t sound intentional, but you’re glad to have the attention on him. 

He must have told Shadowheart because she’s the only one that isn’t displaying shock, confusion, curiosity, or disgust.  

“But you’re in the sun.”  Karlach is first to break the quiet.

There’s a discussion about what the parasite is capable of, resulting in Karlach complaining, “So you can walk in the sun but I still can’t touch anyone?  Seems unfair.”

Tav grabs you into a one-armed hug, nearly slamming you against his chest as he points his other hand at Astarion.  “You feed off me next time!  I have more blood, I can afford it.”

“Isn’t it better if he feeds on me?” you ask into the tieflings chest.  “Since I’m not going out and fighting off goblins and spiders?”

Your dream comes back to you—talking around the fire, learning magic with Gale…but you can’t decipher which is memory and which is the dream.  You focus on it, knowing that Tav had found the amethyst and was tossing it around like a toy only to be scolded by Gale.  But no book.  Maybe that was why you hadn’t felt anything from it in the dream—there was no memory to pull from.  You find yourself a little disappointed by the fact that Gale hadn’t offered to test your magic but quickly push away the feeling.

You push Tav away, too.  “Besides, I’m fine.  I’m not that important here anyway so if Astarion needs to feed on me now and again he’s welcome to.”

“Thank you, darling,” Astarion says, “but I’m sure that won’t be necessary.”

After that the group forces you to consume as much fruit as possible in a single sitting.  Soon enough your nausea isn’t from blood loss but overeating, and you’re shooing away the worriers—Tav, Gale, and Karlach. 

“Don’t you guys have somewhere to be?  Halsin is still out there.”  There’s a pang in your chest knowing he’s in the goblin camp.

“That’s true.”  Tav sighs.  “You should come with us.”

You pause, wondering if you looked healthier than you felt.  “…why?”

“It’ll be fun?  And when you lose blood it’s better to be out and about.”

“That doesn’t sound remotely right,” you reply.  Tav is kneeling beside you, eyes large and watery as they look into your own.  Can tieflings be half puppy?  You have to stop yourself from agreeing to his request on the spot.  “I don’t want to slow you guys down.  Or get one of you killed.  Or die.”

“We aren’t going to be fighting, they’re going to let us in.”

There’s too many variables and you’re forced to repeat, “Why?”

“We went back and got Sazza, the goblin you saved,” Tav explains.

“She was grateful enough to offer us an introduction to her tribe and leaders,” Gale says.  “I’m sure your presence will grease the wheels, so to speak.” 

You conceded, if only after Tav gave you another small health potion.

You set out with more party members than you thought you would—Tav, Karlach, Gale, and Astarion.  You hope Wyll would be enough of a buffer for Shadowheart and Lae’zel as they search the upper roads for signs of the githyanki.  It’s strange to see the camp split up, but it makes more sense than leaving people to sit around all day. Granted, you’d love to be sitting right now as you approach the bridge leading into the goblin camp.  It’s not just the fatigue, or the anxiety of being surrounded by goblins, but knowing what will happen when they cross the bridge.  When you cross the bridge.  And what it means if nothing happens. You hadn’t actually seen the device Shadowheart held and she wasn’t even here right now…

“It will be okay,” Gale says quietly.  You’d lagged back far enough for him to notice, and stay near you.  “You’ve seen just how charming our fearless leader is.”

You force your lips into a shaky smile and nod.  With Gale at your side you catch up to the others as they’re about to cross the bridge into the ruined shrine.  The spiky barricades aren’t nearly as threatening as what’s about to come. 

Tav sets one foot on the bridge, then Karlach, Astarion, Gale…you.  Your leader is halfway across when you briefly think you might be in the clear, until he falls to his knees.  He grunts in pain, holding his head as the others follow suit, all of them going down at the same time beneath the pressure of the Absolute.  

You flinch back and…nothing.  You’re fine.  You hear no voice, feel no pain in your body, other than what you had before, and watch while the others shiver and groan, listening to the Absolute's message about the chosen three.  You grip your staff as you watch with wide eyes, heart clenching, unable to help them or understand why you aren’t included.  But the tadpole in your head doesn’t stir, not even when the relic shoots out of Tav’s bag and saves them from the Absolute’s control.  It glows orange as it floats above Tav until he can grab it, releasing the group.

“What in the bloody Hells was that?” Astarion shouts.

They’re each breathing heavy as they stand, shaking their heads in hopes of clearing their minds.  

“I think that was the Absolute,” Gale suggests, “and her chosen.”

“Whatever it was, that thing protected us.”  Karlach’s eyes are in the Githyanki device in Tav’s hands.  He shifts it between his fingers but it doesn’t react, so he puts it back into the bag at his waist.

And nobody questions you.  Being the last one behind, they seem to assume you’d heard the voice and seen the vision, too.  You’ve never been so grateful to be an unimportant extra.

You try not to let your exhaustion show in front of the goblins.  Your body and mind both feel like there’s a heavy weight on them, pushing you towards the ground until your knees want to buckle.  You’re using the staff to help keep you upright, and blame everything on blood loss and anxiety.  

Thankfully Gale was right about Tav’s charisma and you get inside the temple with little trouble.  The trouble being dragging Tav away from chicken chasing.  They have a chicken, not an owlbear, and the only other human there is Volo so you’re not sure what route was taken yesterday.  Nobody had mentioned an owlbear, meaning they had skipped past the cave…or perhaps didn’t want to tell you about killing the cub.

Regardless, apparently chicken chasing is as fun for Tav as it is for the goblins, and you’re only able to get him away and into the temple by promising you’ll give it a try when you’re feeling better. 

Once inside and past the guards, you see Priestess Gut.  Her presence is more imposing than her stature suggests and there’s a crackling fear that runs through your body when her eyes fall on you.  Tav takes the lead, denying the branding after a quick meeting of the worms, and the Priestess invites him elsewhere. 

“Not that one, though,” she says, looking at you.  “That one’s not a True Soul, been abandoned by the Absolute.  They’ll stay locked up until we’re done.”

“Huh?”  It’s all you can think to say as two goblins with pikes and shields approach you.  They don’t get close enough to touch you before the others step to your aid, which puts the rest of the surrounding goblins on alert, drawing their own weapons.

“Not gonna happen,” Karlach announces.

“Put your weapons down while I’m bein’ nice,” Priestess Gut orders.  “I could just have you all killed on the spot but I’m feeling generous–you’ll all walk out of here fine but that one stays in the cage until we’re done.”

Tensions rise when she spits out the words “that one”, like you’re some gnat needing to be squished.  Your companions don’t lower their weapons, and neither do the goblins.  You know how this fight goes, you know it can be won when turns are taken but right now there are no turns.  No waiting.

“I’ll go!” you shout.  You hold your staff out to Gale, cursing the slight tremble in your hands and voice.  “It’s just for a bit.  I’ll wait for you guys in…prison.”

“You don’t have to do this,” Gale whispers.  He only takes your staff when you shake your head.

Karlach and Tav seem about to argue, fight even, before the goblins can react, but you shake your head at them as well.  I’ll be fine, you think.  You wish you understood how to use the tadpoles to send messages, but maybe it went through anyway because they all holster their weapons.  Even Astarion, whom you’d hadn’t realised was willing to fight on your behalf as well, returns his daggers to their holsters.

“Just uh, don’t be too long, okay?”  You try not to think about the people the goblins are cooking outside, or that the butcher is in the same place you’re about to go.  You don’t look back at anyone as you’re taken away, hoping you didn’t just sentence yourself to death.

And it did feel like a death sentence walking past all the goblins.  But it was a little exciting, too.  The heavy beat of your heart couldn’t decide if it was from dread or a morbid interest in the creatures that barely came to your waist.  While still in sight of your companions nobody said a word to you.  You think the entire journey is going to be silent when a goblin shouts, “Hold up, eh?”

You and the guards halt, turning to the source of the voice.  Sazza.  She eyes you, but she isn’t what you’re wary of right now.  Beside her floats the scrying eye.

When the game says looking at it is like falling into an inky black pool, it’s not wrong.  You waver a moment as the hairs on the back of your neck raise, the feeling of being watched coming over you.  But it’s a different kind of watch than the goblins, more predatory.  If that was possible.

“What d’ya want?” one escort says.

“This thing flew right over when it saw this one,” Sazza explains with a wave at you.  “Guess it likes ya.  I should probably say thanks by the way, for takin’ the arrow.”

She doesn’t actually thank you.  

The scrying eye spins around you, floating up and down as if taking stock of you, kind of like when Gale first came out of the portal.  Was it interested in your coat, too?  Soon enough it stays in front of your face, examining your features.  You don’t have an option menu before you, and with a waver in your voice you say, “Uh, hello?”

The eye vibrates, or shakes, or maybe it shivers.  

“S’weird,” Sazza says, watching the eye.  Nobody can disagree with that.

“C’mon,” your other escort says.  “Don’t care if that things watchin’, gotta get the prisoner downstairs.”

They begin to lead you towards the worg pens and the eye follows you.  The only reason it leaves your side it when the door to the pens slams shut before it can get inside.

Taglist:

@half-poison-and-half-hope @sanscas @hotmesshobbit @godoffuckedupcats @thequeen-oni @terrenuserinj @straewberrysoda @theomnipotentfox @becksynthetic @quitecontrary-to-mary @furblrwurblr @mega-trash-cringe @fandomsbookclub @dontneedbiologytoadopt @pebble-bb @v3lv3tvampir3 @mrow-kat @jeneralmischief @notsaelty @runaway-17 @aoirohi

[bossidiotart]

Part 2 of this. @endlesslogo tagging you in case you wanna read part 2 of the story inspired by your art

Donnie stared down at his chiming phone. A number he didn’t recognise lit up the top. After the third ring, he turned off his phone and pocketed it. If it’s anything truly important, the caller could just leave a message. He turned back to his project and continued soldering.

The clock on his vambrace screen reads nearly 3am. He wonders if Leo had managed to go to sleep. He hasn’t come in to pester him all night long. Good. It’s always a good sign when Leo finally gets to sleep. Hopefully he’s getting a restful sleep and peaceful dreams.

Yet..something in the back of his mind is nagging at him.

The notification for a voicemail sounded in his pocket. Guess whoever was calling had something important to say. Likelihoods of what it could be played in his mind as he set down the solder and pulled out his phone again. He opened it and went into his voicemail. He tapped on the transcript.

Donnie. Donnie, please, come get me.

..huh?

I don’t know where I am or how I got here, but…

Donnie tapped the play button and put it on speaker. There was silence and some sort of static at first.

“Donnie.”

The soft shell’s blood ran cold. Leo? Donnie listened to the message that was transcribed, still as a statue. Leo sounded terrified. His voice shook and was hushed as though he were hiding from something.

“-or-or how I got here, but-“

A deep rumble that almost sounded like thunder emitted, pulling a gasp out of his brother. A pause that felt like an hour long stretched out. Then, a horrific scream. It chilled Donnie to the bone and made him want to hide deep inside a hole. Another scream joined in; Donnie realised with horror that it’s Leo screaming. A loud crash, and the voicemail cut out.

Ear-splitting silence settled. Donnie sat paralysed. He jolted and swiped at his vambrace. The trackers blipped on screen, and he immediately searched for Leo’s.

…wait, what?

His tracker is in his room. That’s not possible. Unless…

Donnie dashed out of his lab, leaping down stairs and hurdling over unpacked boxes. Leo’s room soon came into sight; he slid in front of the door and threw it open.

“Leo?!”

He quickly scanned the room. His eyes landed on the sleeping form of his twin. Confusion settled in his mind like sticky, melted marshmallow. What the fuck? Leo’s here? But the voicemail…

Annoyance bubbled. He stomped into Leo’s room.

“Nardo, if this is some kind of sick prank, I’m really not in the mood.” Donnie shook his allegedly sleeping brother. “Come on, dum-dum, I know you’re not actually asleep. What the hell was that voicemail?” He shook him harder. Annoyance built. “Nardo! Leo, wake up!” He still doesn’t stir. Donnie scoffed and pulled Leo onto his back. The slider’s eyes remain closed, his face slack. The elder pulled the younger’s eyelids apart. Donnie’s eyes widened. That’s…not normal.

The pupil in Leo’s eye had blown so wide he could hardly see the reddish iris. Donnie let go of the eyelids and opened the other eye. Same thing. This.. this cannot be good. He pulled out his phone, turned on the flashlight and shone it in Leo’s eye. It didn’t react. Oh, this is definitely not good. Donnie chewed on his lip as he tested Leo’s other eye, getting the same result. What to do, what to do.

Leo is alive, thankfully. He’ll have to check his vitals to be sure he’s truly alright, however. Donnie glanced at the time on his phone screen. Nearly 3:30am. Raph won’t be up for another 3 to 4 hours. Donnie took in a breath, cornered a resolve, and scooped Leo up from his bed. The soft shell trotted down to the med bay, his stomach twisting at how limp his brother is. He shouldered his way into the med bay and set Leo down on the bed. His heart pounded as he tested Leo’s vitals. With each one that passes, he feels a little better but at the same time worse.

Donnie slapped a wrist monitor on him and fell into a nearby chair. His vision zeroed in on the monitor until it was all he could see. Resting heart rate is normal. Rhythm is normal. He instinctively slipped his hand into his sweater pocket and pulled out his phone. He reopened the phone app; he stared at the number Leo called from. He tapped on it and brought it up to his ear.

“The number you have reached-“

It didn’t even ring.

Donnie hung up. He shoved his phone back into his pocket and stared hard at the wrist monitor. Leo’s stupid heart mockingly beat at its normal rhythm. Donnie’s pocket buzzed and burst out into song.

The soft shell yanked his phone out and stared at the unknown number on the screen. His heart pounded. His hands trembled. He hit the green button and held it to his ear.

“…hello?”

“Ohmigosh thank the spirits you picked up!” Leo’s unmistakable voice came through the speaker. “You got my voicemail, right??”

Donnie swallowed against the confusion and fear as he stared at his comatose twin in front of him.

“I did.”

“Great! So you guys are on your way, right?”

Donnie stared at his brother’s still form.

“Don? You guys are coming to get me, right?”

“Uh…”

“Donnie?” Panic edged Leo’s voice. Donnie took a breath.

“We…can’t find you.”

“…what?”

Donnie gnawed on the inside of his cheek.

“I mean, something’s up with your tracker. I can’t pinpoint your location.” Donnie’s leg bounced a hundred times a second. “Can you see any landmarks where you are?”

“Uhhhh.” Leo’s voice faded some as Donnie imagined him moving away from the phone to look. “Not really. It’s mostly trees, streetlights, and an empty road.”

“That’s not much to go off on...” Donnie muttered. His eyes flicked up, and his heart seized at the sight of his unconscious brother. Right, his actual brother is in front of him. But what about the one on the phone..?

He could try to trace the call, but what if it only points to the Leo in the med bed? Only one way to find out…

“Stay on the line, Leo, I’m going to try and trace this call.” Donnie pressed his phone between his head and shoulder as he typed on his vambrace.

“I ain’t going any-“ A distant rumbling sound cut him off. “Shit. On second thought, I gotta run. I’ll try to find another phone.” Click.

Donnie sat in silence. His fingers hovered over the vambrace screen. It blinked at him. His eyes stayed glued to the screen. His mind spun every which way in baffled attempts to explain. This…it’s not possible. He looked once more at his comatose brother. What have you gotten yourself into, Leo? On his vambrace, the screen continued blinking as a dot pinged over the med bay.

Part 3

[kk095]

Kiana’s Cardioversion

Kiana was a 25 year old black girl who worked as a personal trainer. She stood at 5’3 with a slim, but fit and toned build. Kiana had dark, medium length, curly, natural hair with a side part. Her eyes were a darker shade of brown, and she had a nose ring and bellybutton ring.

Earlier today, Kiana found herself in our emergency department after developing an array of worrisome symptoms completely out of the blue. She experienced a severe tearing pain in her chest, heart palpitations, and shortness of breath. As a result, she was sitting in the upright position on one of our trauma room tables. She was barefoot, and stripped down to only her sports bra and matching underwear. There were EKG electrodes stuck onto Kiana’s chest, and there were IVs set up in both arms. She was visibly uncomfortable, writhing in pain, squirming around a bit.

The heart monitors were beeping, chirping, and alarming rather loudly, creating a bit of tension and sensory overload in the exam room. The readings on the monitors were a bit concerning as well. Kiana’s heart was racing at 170 beats per minute, and her blood pressure was low at 75/40. The rhythm itself was a tachyarrhythmia of some sort. The EKG showed a narrow QRS complex and possible atrioventricular block. The symptoms and EKG readings pointed Dr Lindsay and in a few very different directions. One possibility was an NSTEMI heart attack, but how likely is that in a 25 year old personal trainer? Next was junctional ectopic tachycardia, which is an uncommon, but potentially deadly arrhythmia that tends to occur in infants or people who recently had open heart surgery. The other possibilities were an electrolyte imbalance, particularly potassium, or her symptoms could be attributed to stimulant use from substances such as cocaine, meth, or molly.

Since the possibilities were all very different, Dr Lindsay had to be thorough and order a whole bunch of tests. First off were blood samples. A CBC, a BMP, a toxicology screening, a cardiac enzyme test, an HCG, and a d-dimer were all drawn and sent off to the lab for stat analysis. Because Kiana was experiencing chest pain, Dr Lindsay decided to order a chest x-ray and an echocardiogram. Unfortunately, both tests didn’t help Lindsay narrow anything down. The chest x-ray came back completely normal, and the echocardiogram showed slight thickening of the ventricular septum, which is a sign of hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. But some of the other symptoms didn’t point in that direction. So what exactly was going on with Kiana? Dr Lindsay was certainly stumped. All she could do was treat Kiana’s symptoms, and hope the lab tests would come back soon and show something noteworthy.

Of course the lab was taking their sweet ass time with Kiana’s stat labs. And of course Kiana started to get worse. Her heart raced faster and faster, and the arrhythmia became more troublesome. Dr Lindsay wasted no time and started chemical cardioversion, urgently trying to calm Kiana’s heart and relieve her symptoms a bit. But as the next little while unfolded, Kiana’s condition didn’t improve, almost as if the antiarrhythmic medications did absolutely nothing. When chemical cardioversion doesn’t work, the next step is electrical cardioversion.

Dr Lindsay explained to Kiana that her heart was in a dangerous rhythm, and they had to give it a quick shock to make it beat normally again. Kiana was a bit nervous and hesitant, but nodded in response to Dr Lindsay, reluctantly agreeing. The defib pads were then stuck onto Kiana’s chest and charged to a lower setting of 125 joules. Lindsay told Kiana the defibs were ready, then pushed the shock button a few seconds later. “MMMM!” Kiana moaned loudly, squeezing her eyes shut, wincing in pain from the quick jolt of electricity. After the shock, Dr Lindsay studied the monitors for a few moments and listened to Kiana’s heart and lungs with a stethoscope. Lindsay discovered there was no change in the rhythm and informed Kiana she had to be shocked again. The defib pads were recharged to 150 joules, and the next shock was sent into Kiana’s racing heart. Her torso shivered, and she clenched her chest with one hand while her face had a distressed look.

Dr Lindsay repeated the same process as before, studying the heart monitors and listening to Kiana’s heart and lungs. Just like before, Dr Lindsay didn’t see any change whatsoever and needed to shock Kiana again at 175 joules. The pads were charged and readied, and Kiana received the next shock. Her chest propelled forwards, and she let out a grunt, reacting to the electricity racing through her while wide awake. This shock failed to correct the arrhythmia, and Lindsay informed Kiana she had to be shocked again. “NO MORE! NO MORE!” She protested, writhing around on the table, on the verge of tears. Despite Kiana’s protests, Lindsay shocked her again at 200 joules. “AHH!” Kiana yelped. After that shock, she started to breathe heavily and tears started to roll down her face. “PLEASE! NO MORE, NO MORE!” she cried, begging Dr Lindsay to stop. But the arrhythmia was still there, so unfortunately Lindsay was unable to stop the cardioversion. The defibs were recharged to 225, and the next shock was delivered. Kiana gasped and cried out reacting to the shock, but just like all the others, the arrhythmia was still there. “PLEASE… JUST STOP! NO MORE! I DON’T WANNA DIE!” Kiana cried out hysterically, squirming and writhing around on the table wanting the nightmare to end.

The defib pads were recharged to 250 joules- twice the strength of the very first shock, and the next shock was administered. Kiana’s body trembled, and she scrunched her toes at the far end of the table trying to fight the pain, showing off the white nail polish on her toes and the thick, soft, wide wrinkles throughout the soles of her size 6 feet. Immediately after that particular shock, Kiana’s breathing slowed a bit. Her head lolled to the side and her eyes rolled back. Kiana’s body went completely limp, and the heart monitors were practically shouting at Dr Lindsay and the rest of our team.

It didn’t take long to realize that Kiana had gone into v-fib, so the team had to change gears and start running a normal code. The bed was lowered, and Kiana’s sports bra was snipped off, allowing her perky, deceptively large breasts to spill out. CPR was immediately started, causing Kiana’s chest to cave in, and her belly to ripple out. At the head of the bed, her airway was the priority. A 7.0 ET tube was carefully but quickly navigated into her airway, being held in place by a blue tube holder once proper placement was confirmed. Post intubation, CPR was halted, and the team decided to try their luck with the defib paddles, rather than the pads. The paddles were gelled, charged to 250 joules, and pressed up against Kiana’s bare chest. KA-THUNK! Her small body was thrown around effortlessly on the table while her eyes remained half open, almost as if she was still watching the events unfold around her. V-fib was still on the monitors, so the paddles were readied once again, and Kiana received a 300 joule shock. Her chest shot up and her back arched. Her big, perky tits jiggled around while she crashed back down onto the table. Kiana remained in v-fib even after this shock, so she was defibbed again after a cycle of CPR and ambu bagging. Her shoulders shrugged forwards. Kiana’s hands made loose fists from the electric current that ran through her body. Unfortunately, the shock didn’t bring her back.

With a few unsuccessful shocks out of the way, the team decided to resume chest compressions and push meds into Kiana’s IV line. Kiana’s chest was pumped violently but rhythmically for several minutes, but the compressions and 2 doses of meds failed to restart her heart. The team decided to defib Kiana again. The paddles were gelled, charged to 360, and she was shocked again. Kiana’s body twitched sharply in response to the shock, but her heart didn’t start back up. “again! Everyone…CLEAR!” Lindsay shouted, immediately shocking Kiana again. KA-THUMP! Kiana jolted violently on the table while her eyes remained open, staring up above with an expressionless gaze. Kiana was shocked unsuccessfully another 3 times after that and given another dose of meds, but v-fib was the clear winner of the battle up to that point.

Dr Lindsay was reluctant to give up on the beautiful young lady. However, the code became redundant the longer it went on. Kiana would receive a few shocks, then it was back to a few minutes of CPR and meds, rinse and repeat. At the 30 minute mark of the code, it was noted that Kiana’s pupils were fixed and dilated. Dr Lindsay knew she exhausted all possible options in this particular case. At that point, resuscitation efforts were ceased, and Kiana’s time of death was called at 4:48pm. The ambu bag was detached and the chirping, flashing v-fib monitors were turned off. The EKG electrodes were disconnected, and the defib pads were peeled off. The defb gel was wiped off of Kiana’s bruised, battered chest. Her eyes were gently shut for the final time, and her body was covered up. Lastly, a toe tag was filled out and placed on the big toe of her left foot. The tag dangled against the wrinkled soles of Kiana’s feet, signifying a sudden and tragic end for the beautiful young lady.

[apompkwrites]

the shroud experiments: testing || idia shroud

masterlist characters: idia & ortho (platonic) genre: angst contains: needles, mentions of blood, (name) being replaced/neglected, bordering on suicidal ideation(?), blot creatures :D summary: (name) shroud proceeds with their experiment. however, proper research is required before the experiment can commence. notes: i couldn't wait!!! so here's shroud's test! have had this idea for so long and now it's here!! just gotta wait for the results ;)) parts: [og post] | [the unwanted shroud (1)] | [the shroud experiments: pre-test (2)] | [the shroud experiments: testing (3)] | [the shroud experiments: results and findings (4)]

it used to hurt. the needles pricking at your skin, the armband squeezing just a bit too tight on your upper arm, and so on. but now, it felt wrong to not have those little bits of "pain" flood your system daily.

the little glass vials that held your blood sat perfectly in the case, preserved pristinely with your vitals floating above them in bright blue screens.

everything was ready. after hours and hours of preparation, it was ready. all of what you needed was here, waiting for you to finally go through with your experiment. all you needed to do was--

tend to the blot creatures that cried out and rattled the bars on their cells. of course, you couldn't neglect them. as much as you wanted to go through with the experiments, you needed to subdue their cries, lest a member of s.t.y.x, or seven forbid a member of the shroud family, come down to check on the commotion.

you couldn't let them find out about what you wanted to do.

and so, you took your routine walk through the halls, feeding the creatures portions of the food you had neglected to eat in favor of setting up the final preparations. your stomach growled every time you tossed the food into the cells, as if it were begging and pleading with you. but you couldn't care less.

in fact, it was best for your body to be empty. you wouldn't want anything to go wrong and halt your plans.

sometimes you felt like the creatures knew you better than the shroud family did.

they seemed to keep their gaze on you longer than they usually did, cooing and gurgling at you louder than normal. you still had trouble deciphering what exactly they were trying to tell you without them gesturing (or perhaps they were just flailing) but it felt as if right now, they were worried. as if they knew how bad this experiment could turn out and how it was out of your hands if it did.

you could only placate their worries with hollow lies and false promises.

"i'll be back in a bit, don't worry."

"calm down, nothing's gonna happen."

"everything will be fine."

maybe you said these in an attempt to reassure yourself as well. in the end, you wouldn't be able to tell the difference.

it was odd being on a floor other than the one you were banished to years ago. perhaps they were more lenient on security once they realized that you stayed down there willingly instead of resisting.

nevertheless, it made everything so much easier for you.

your footsteps made no noise, which was lucky for you considering how many echoes there were in these halls. the walls were still lined with photos of the shroud family. however, they all seemed incomplete. of course, you only realized that because you were there for those photos.

the ones that contained the entirety of the family only showed two children; idia and ortho. your body had been covered with pieces of tape and paper stuck against the glass of the picture frames.

it would have stung years ago if you had seen the changes in the photos. now it just felt right. you didn't dare look at the face of the child who murdered their younger brother.

when you began walking towards the bedrooms, you took more caution in passing them. you felt the most fear when passing the shroud parents' bedroom, their lights on and shining from just beneath the crack between the door and the floor. the next room was ortho's.

or, rather, his old room. no one touched it since the incident. that much was obvious considering the stickers you and he had stuck on the handle were still in perfect condition.

the one that followed was ortho's room again. this time, it was his shrine. the dreaded photo of a smiling boy with barely sharp teeth and bright blue flames seemed to mock you as it stared down. what was even eerier for you was the fact that you couldn't hear him like you could in the cells.

it took a bit for you to tear your eyes away from the door, letting them land on the room you had been hoping to get to the most: idia's. his lights were on, which wasn't exactly the best sign for your plan.

but, you couldn't risk turning back now. who knows what would happen if the security was stricter than it was right now?

you turned back towards ortho's second room and rushed inside, not taking a second to think about whether or not you were worthy of stepping into it. however, that thought didn't have a chance to resurface the moment you saw what was inside.

instead of what you expected, which was a room full of ortho's photos and favorite items, you saw a room full of technology and screens. you recognized what was on those screens, too.

vitals and blueprints.

"this..." the words came tumbling out of your mouth before you could even register them. "this is ortho's new room..."

the sudden realization dawned on you: they had completely overhauled your room to make it his. the reason his old bedroom had remained untouched was not that they could not stand the idea of stepping foot in there again. no, instead it was because he had been moved to your old room. it was made to house the new ortho you had caught wind of the rare times one of the shroud parents came to deliver you food.

the reason you wanted to sneak into idia's room was not in his room to begin with. it was all here.

how convenient.

sure, it probably wasn't the most up-to-date plans you desired, but you would take what you could get. without missing a beat, you rushed over to the screens and began to jot down what you could. the sketches were messy and illegible but that didn't matter. all you needed were the basic components and instructions to build it. you didn't care how it looked as long as it worked.

as long as it kept your soul alive.

your copies of the blueprints would not amount to the success that idia found in making a new ortho. you knew that. you never were that good in building technologically like idia was. no, instead, you found it easier to research a different topic.

the transfer of life.

ever since the incident, you threw yourself into researching this topic, spending countless days and nights experimenting on some of the smaller blot creatures that were on the verge of death. it wasn't until one or two years into these experiments that you succeeded in transferring life for the first time.

the blot creatures may very well hate you now, at least the ones that you managed to “resurrect”. but, with the findings that research had gotten you, you couldn’t care less. besides, the blot creatures would have no effect after your experiment was complete. granted, that would only be if the experiment went well.

if it didn’t… well, you would have to wait and see how the shrouds would handle that.

vitals recorded and stored in database.

“let’s hope this works…” you only had one shot at this. if the experiment failed, seven forbid, your soul would be somewhere that no one could reach it. although, that outcome isn’t the worst.

memory transfer takes five hours in total. start up takes six hours. idia shroud truly was a master at this. you could only hope that this version of the blueprints still holds up.

you clenched your jaw, the needles poking at your skin once more. this time, however, it hurt. it hurt more than the first time you had done this. was this a sign it was working or that something was going wrong? regardless, you could not spare a second.

you had to do it. With a simple press of the button on the blue screen, your mind went blank.

and it felt like your soul was being sucked out of your body.

“idia! someone was in the hallway!”

taglist: @brokenncrown @help-meplz @destinationdesignation @rainys-personal-garden @kalims @sxftiebee @luxaryllis @auld-a @the-dumber-scaramouche @ayra2452008 @tinywho-man @spadecentral @justeclem44 @bajifairyy @mulandi

[ignoremeimnothere]

6 Months

I'd just like to preface this SHIT Drabble by saying I'm literally writing in in work so that it doesn't leave my brain. Inspired by my managers friend who literally found out they're 6 months pregnant last week under the same circumstances, praying for you girl. Like all traumatising experiences I like to thing of Pedro handling me in the situation, this one probably made a lot more sense in my head. Let's hope I come back to the to improve it or progress it.

'You’re 6 months pregnant”

You laughed confused, maintaining eye contact with the doctor. 

‘No I’m not’

The room immediately became thick with awkwardness. 

‘The tes-’

‘Is wrong. I’ve got the implant. No bump. No symptoms’

You listed off all the reasons you couldn’t be pregnant. It was only by chance you had required a trip to the doctors. A holiday was booked with your closest friends for next month. You had only come in to get some anti-anxiety medication for the flight you were so scared of, a blood test was routine before you could get it. 

Your doctor’s eyes squinted slightly, trying to figure out how to handle the conversation. You held their gaze refusing to look at anything else, especially Pedro who was beside you completely silent. 

‘The results are yours. We can run another one if you would like but you are 6 months pregnant. 6 and a half to be more precise’ 

Your eyebrows furrowed, the doctor started a spiel you couldn’t quite focus on. They provide you with a few pregnancy tests to use in the bathroom. You leave to do them alone, you haven’t looked at Pedro since the doctor dropped the bombshell that was obviously- 

‘Positive’ Both tests displayed strong second lines as you felt the blood drain from your head. 

~

Pedro shut your car door as he makes his way to the other side. You haven’t said a word since returning from the bathroom tests in hand. He gets into the driver's side but can’t bring himself to turn on the engine just yet. Your head is completely blank, normally you would spiral but the shock has prolonged that still. 

‘Are you ok’ 

You can barely shake your head, you finally look at him. ‘Are you?’ 

Deafening silence fills the car. You’ve no idea how much time has passed before Pedro eventually begins the drive home. You’re completely spaced out until you approach your street. 

‘I don’t want to go home’

‘Ok baby, where do you want to go’ 

Pedro reduces his speed dramatically giving you time to think. 

‘I think I need to be alone’ You blurt out. 

‘Ok’ Pedro maintains his calm demeanour, attempting to regulate the panic he watched creep into your eyes.

‘Is that ok’ A lump appears in your throat. 

‘Can you be alone in the house?’

 He proposes a safe compromise but you shake your head, your breath catching in your throat. 

‘In the car’ Another suggestion.

You shake your head unbuckling your seatbelt before Pedro has reached your home. He calls your name, a gentle warning to not do anything dangerous. 

‘I think I just…. I need to….’ You struggle to figure out what you need to do. 

‘Breathe with me’ Pedro parked the car and unbuckled himself, twisted towards you he grabs your hands, pecking them before meeting your eye. 

‘It’s ok’ He begins. ‘You can be alone but I need you safe, do you want me to take you somewhere?’ You shake your head. ‘Ok baby but I don’t think now would be the best time for you to drive a car, do you want me to leave?’ You shake your head again.

‘I’ll take a walk?’ You suggest, it was a cloudy day making it quite quiet.

‘Ok Cariño, do you have your phone on you?’

You nod, checking your pocket. He kisses you on the cheek, unsatisfied he gently grabs your face planting a lingering kiss on your lips. You rest your forehead on his having a silent conversation. You would clear your head, come back and have the conversation. For now you needed to take in everything. You swallowed your guilt for needing to be alone, wishing that you could instead process this beside Pedro. You leave before you suffocate on the silent questions lingering in the car and make your way down the street wondering how the hell your life had changed so much within the space of an hour.

[drtanner]

God. I'm pissed off again and you're all going to hear about it.

Some of you may know that I'm finally in a position to get my top surgery done on the NHS. I've been on their waitlist for a full year and it's finally my turn! But god, they're being asses about my BMI.

Some context: If you're trans, you can get top and bottom surgery on the NHS, but they have some really strict rules about BMI. Most top surgeons and all surgeons who perform bottom surgery require your BMI to be below 30. A few top surgeons will take you if your BMI is below 40, but you'll have to travel to see them and appointments are limited and hard to get. Over 40 BMI and you've got no options. The stated reason for this is that it's supposedly harder to get good results if they have to excise too much fat during the surgery. I'll let you decide how plausible that really is.

My BMI is a little over 40, by about 3.5kg, so not a huge amount. My fat percentage is a bit under 34, so it's not that I'm terribly fat, I just have a lot of muscle and very heavy bones! The surgeon himself - as well as every other medical professional who sees me - was surprised at how heavy I am given my size when he examined me last year and took Before pictures. My upper body is actually very lean and they know this because they've seen me! However, they're still being shits about my BMI, because BMI doesn't discriminate between muscle and fat, or how broad someone is, or how heavy their bones are or anything else, and apparently that's the only metric they go by. I've always had difficulty losing weight, probably because there really isn't that much to lose, so being told that I've now got to find a way to lose at least 3.5kg by October or have my surgery date pushed back isn't ideal and I'm getting really strung out about it. I've spent most of the last 15 years trying to get my BMI down without losing the muscle I worked so hard to build up or cut my leg off with fuck all success. I've been stable at my current weight for most of the last decade but now I have to figure out how to drop down to 121.5kg within three months.

The amount of hoops one has to jump through to get access to any kind of trans healthcare is absolutely ridiculous, a direct result of all the stupid handwringing about "permanent, irreversible surgeries!!!" and so on, as if I can't make choices about my own body.

Only, all of this bullshit about my weight and my BMI reminded me of something else: About ten years ago, when I was also getting shit about my weight (again, despite not being terribly fat, just heavy!), I got referred to a weight clinic. After seeing dieticians and being put on a drastically restricted calorie intake to no avail, I got shuffled off to the weight clinic, where they did the same blood tests that my GP had done before she referred me, saw that they came back normal again, unsurprisingly, and then promptly offered me bariatric surgery.

This was presented as the only treatment they were able to give to help me with my weight loss, to cut out part of my stomach and staple it back together to make it much, much smaller, because they didn't believe me when I told them I was controlling my diet. Like, oh yes, you say you aren't overeating all the time, but just to make sure you can't eat too much, we're going to make your stomach tiny so that you physically cannot fit food into it anymore. I've never heard anything good about bariatric surgery from anyone who had it. Every story is a horror story, from people who can't eat without stomach pain anymore, or keep down anything heavier than soup anymore, or who suffered through all of this only for what little weight they lost to come back in a few years' time. That was the only help they were willing to offer me.

I got up and left, and didn't go back again after that.

So, contrast these two situations. On one hand, I'm grappling with the NHS over my top surgery for entirely stupid reasons because it's ludicrously difficult to access any kind of trans healthcare, but especially surgeries, because they're "permanent and irreversible!!!" and "you might regret it!!!!" or whatever. Meanwhile, they couldn't throw bariatric surgery at me hard enough, just because my BMI was high. Is cutting out a huge piece of my stomach to make it smaller not "permanent or irreversible"? Might I not regret that? Especially when there's no guarantee that it would achieve the desired result at all? I know what I'm likely to get from the top surgery, but somehow that's the one nobody wants me to have.

Anyway, sorry about the long post. It's a fucking dogshit situation and I'm fucking sick of it.

[levikra]

I have Acute Lymphoblastic Leukosis aka Blood Cancer

buckle up :D

This post should've been here for sometime now cuz I prefer keeping everyone updated across all the platforms that I use as an artist.

So - Hi! My name is Evein, on 1st of May 2023 I turned 21 and since then, from 5th of May my health decided to pull a quick one on me, propelling the events that currently make me reside at the hospital with an oncology.

It all started with a tonsillitis-like fever, accompanied by furunclosis in three places on my body, a high fever that lasted for 5 days in the first half of May itself and other unpleasant symptoms. It felt weird, I've never had such an intense streak of sicknesses kick my ass like that, but of course - I went to doctors to get checked, the classic blood testings and general examinations and stuff.

That's when on 10th of May my blood test was checked by a dermatologist regarding my furuncle problem and - after some brief moments of her talking with the main doctor at the clinic - I was rushed to the governmential hospital due to the fact that my blood results had... no white blood cells. Literally 1.83 at the accepted range being much higher than that.

Needless to say I was fucking shocked, I've never dealt with the severity of the situation and let alone while being completely on my own as a human person (working, living, providing for myself, you call it).

At the hospital, after several examinations and another blood test came the recommendation paper that doctors signed with urgency, first and foremost I needed to get to an appointment at the hematologist's. That I did on 14th of May and since that point of time, till 19th, I'd been monitored, given antibiotics for my tonsillitis-like symptoms, along with my furunclosis and after 19th we ruled out the condition to be leukosis, became my white blood cells started coming back to normal with the antibiotics aiding my immunity, but despite that - thr condition still seemed as something more reminiscent of mononucleosis (which, however, in another blood test was disproven).

After exactly a week of feeling better, albeit dealing with leftover anemia, I started developing the same symptoms back and even worse, to the point of losing consciousness and thrwoing up in an elevator on 29th of May after going out for the second pack of antibiotics my hematologist had then already approved of to use to help out.

That's when I was rushed to the hospital again and - the next day - my hematologist arranged an appointment at the big clinic that has an oncology ward specifically for my situation. On 1st of June I was officially admitted with Acute Leukosis (the diagnosis doc attached is in Russian).

Since 1st of June the treatment has been ongoing, I've received three rounds of chemo along with supporting hormonal abd antibiotic therapy. Me is balding too, ofc. :D

And thus, this story leads to a logical question - what's now?

It's day 24 of my treatment, out of 4-6 weeks of inital induction period of leukosis' treatment (the overall chemotherapy to destroy tumor cells down to <5% in my bone marrow). After the induction period, if it's proven to lead to remissions - I'm then admitted out to certain periods of time in between infusions + need to take supporting medicine by myself (hence buying it too).

As an independent freelance artist who's existence is tied to being able to do creative work out of, well, any circumstances, I was sadly forced into situation of asking for monetary support, simply because it's stupid to expect to break your own back trying to work harder when you're body is collapsing on itself.

I have a goal on Boosty open for donations and I deeply appreciate ANY and I mean ANY traction of this post. I made a similar thread on Twitter covering the situation and have recieved a lotnof incredible support that has helped me a LOT so far, but my treatment is ongoing, or to be precise - will last in its entirety for 2-3 years. With the momentary help I was able to secure my living situation and get my pet cat to live for the current time period at my friend's, but you understand how that is just a temporary measure and, of course, I don't plan on stall myself - I simply just can't afford that even while hospitalised.

BOOSTY is very sus when it comes to singular donations higher than 120$ but if you happen to donate below that or in several different ones to bypass their antifraud system (only if you wish to) - the link to a goal is here -

[kissesfrombangtanatnight]

Roman Reigns x Reader x Jey Uso: Break The Rules For You, Pt. IV

You had finally gotten a little rest after eating and cuddling with your daughter. You were beyond exhausted. However, the pain in your head had calmed a little. Right now, your daughter was lying next to you, fast asleep, as Jey was texting away on his phone. It must've been mighty important because he was tapping furiously on the keys.

You study his face as you try to force yourself to remember something about him, but nothing comes to mind. However, you can't deny that he is a beautiful man. It deeply saddened you to be in this state and you tried to bury the fear that was creeping up in your mind, but you just couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen. What? You didn't know but you had to make sure you got back to 100% and hopefully, your memory would slowly return to you. You sigh inwardly as Jey finally turns his attention to you.

"Everything okay?" he says putting his phone in his pocket, worry expressed on his face.

"Yes, I'm just....ready to go home. Wherever home is. I don't really like being here." You say softly.

"Well, the doctor said once your tests come back you can go home. He said you didn't have any major injuries other than your head and ribs. And that busted leg, but thankfully, nothing else." He sighs, pulling your hand into his and caressing it gently.

You smile at him as he lays his head down on your lap. You run your hands through his hair, a small groan of approval escaping his lips.

It was quiet in the room, the only thing audible being the rain outside that was peacefully luring you to sleep. That was until there's a soft knock on your door and your nurse comes walking in, a smile on her face.

"Hi there. I'm sorry to bother you. I just thought I'd give you a little update on the tests that were done." She says as you give her a small nod. Though you were exhausted, you did want to know what was going on.

"Well Dr. E. will give you a more detailed update on your other tests, but I did want to point out that there's one test in particular that came back that I'd like to discuss." She says as you and Jey both give her your attention, all tiredness seeming to drain from your body. Hopefully, this was good news and not bad.

"W-what test?" you stammer as Jey looks just as concerned as you.

"So, when we drew the blood from your arm for your blood tests, we tested you for multiple things inside of your blood. Nothing concerning, just normal procedure. We got the results back and one test result from your blood came back indicating high levels of hCG." She says as both you and Jey scrunch your faces up in confusion.

"The hell is hCG?" he asks the nurse seeking clarification.

"Yes, hCG is.....a pregnancy indicator. With that being said.....congratulations! You're pregnant!" she says as Jey feels his face drain of its color.

Pregnant. Surely, he hadn't heard that correctly.

You're stunned by this new revelation as you don't know how to respond or even what to say. Was this a good thing? You weren't sure but one look at your husband's face and you were beginning to think otherwise. He looked nervous. Was he not happy?

"P-pregnant? A-are you sure?" you finally say after a painfully loud silence.

The nurse looks a little uncomfortable at both you and Jey's reaction, but she musters up a smile wanting nothing more than to run out of the room from the secondhand embarrassment.

"Yes. You're very much pregnant," she says, rocking slowly back and forth on her heels.

"Well....I mean....wow....this is........surprising," you say as she pats your hand.

"I know this is a lot to take in right now, but just know we're here to help you in any way we possibly can." She reassures you.

You feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes. All of this was becoming too much to handle. You look over at Jey who is looking down at his hands, spaced out.

"Jey.......what's wrong? Are......are you not happy?" you say feeling like you were on the verge of bursting into a river of tears.

He shakes his head, instantly grabbing your hand, and mustering up the best smile he can despite his heart jumping hurdles inside his chest.

"No, no. I'm sorry it's just....I'm shocked. All of this is....shocking. This...this is great news." He says as you slowly nod your head.

"Well um.....I'm just gonna step outside. Y/n....if you need anything just hit your call light, okay?" your nurse says hurrying out of the room to avoid any more awkwardness.

"Jey....what's really going on? You don't.....you don't look happy at all." You finally speak after another agonizing minute of silence.

Jey sighs heavily, running his hand down his face. "It's not..it's not that I'm not happy, Y/n. I just-" his words were interrupted by your doctor barging into the room, startling both you and Jey. He looked alarmed, shaken even as Jey stood to his feet.

"Got a minute to step outside?" Dr. E. says as Jey immediately follows him out of the room.

You grow worried as the door slams shut. You look down at your daughter as she's still sleeping peacefully, her head lying on your lap. Your eyes then travel down to your stomach that didn't indicate the presence of a baby whatsoever, yet you find yourself running a shaky hand across it.

You then stare at the door, waiting for Jey to come back in as you are confused and curious about the abrupt entrance of the doctor.

Moments later, Jey comes back into your room, pushing a wheelchair in with him. He then begins grabbing up the bags he'd brought with him. His eyes were frantic as he moved around the room, mumbling to himself.

"Jey? Jey? What's wrong?" you ask as he stops momentarily to look at you.

"Do you trust me?" he suddenly asks as you sit there, stunned. Why would he be asking you this out of nowhere? What the hell was going on?

"Ye-.............yes? I should, shouldn't I? You're my husband, right? Why wouldn't I trust you." You respond as you feel your heart begin to thump in your chest frantically.

"Then trust me when I say we have to leave. Now. Amya, wake up babygirl." Jey says as he shakes her awake.

Out of nowhere, the nurse (whom Dr. E. had been flirting with earlier) came into your room to remove your IV. Jey helps you to put on your clothes (which he went and got earlier) as you can't help but notice his face is slightly red.

You're baffled by this, but Jey gives you no chance to talk as he's helping you into the wheelchair. You try to ask questions, but he doesn't say much other than that y'all needed to leave immediately. Your daughter climbs into your lap, careful not to hurt you, as Jey pushes you out of the room, making sure to pull his hoodie over his head and cover your daughter up with a blanket.

As you're making your way through the hall, making your way to the elevators, you can hear chaos in the distance on the other side of the hall. You couldn't make out much of the chaos except some tall guy was standing at the nurses' desk yelling at Dr. E. It is then, that again, the feeling of absolute dread washes over you.

"What do you mean she's dead?! What do you mean my wife is dead?!" he cries angrily, going into hysterics.

"Sir, I need you to please calm down. I-" Dr. E. tries to explain but this guy wasn't having it.

"No! No! No!" the man cries, pounding his fists on the nurse's desk.

You stare at this guy as he paced back and forth. You watch closely as you subtly study this guy's features. He had long black hair in a messy ponytail that looked drenched from the rain. He was wearing all black.

He looked quite angry, hurt, confused, all kinds of mixed emotions. But you completely understood his outburst, especially with the learning of the death of a loved one.

You slowly shake your head, feeling sympathy for him. Surely that wasn't an easy thing to hear from a doctor. You turn your head as you look down at your daughter cuddling up against you.

Jey looks over the man, his eyes seeming to stretch before he swiftly pushes you down the hall right where the elevators are. He damn near smashes the down button as you wait for the elevator to open. He looks around, biting down on his lip, and tapping his foot. He seemed so anxious and bothered. You didn't know what was going on with him, but you were surely going to ask him once you got inside the elevator.

"Man come on, dammit." Jey groaned, hitting the button again.

"You know that's not gonna make it get up here any faster." You say as he shakes his head.

"I know. I know." He mumbles, wiping his hand across his face.

"Let me see my wife! Let me see her! This can't be true!" you hear the same guy yell just as the elevator dings, signaling it has arrived on your floor.

Jey quickly pushes you in, jerking your injured leg, you loudly wince in pain.

"Ouch! Slow down please." You whine as he quickly apologizes.

"I'm sorry. Sorry." He says as he hits the 1st floor button.

"Baby?! Baby?! Where are you?!" you hear the guy yell down the hall just as the elevator doors close.

"Poor guy........." you say aloud.

Jey takes a deep breath, leaning against the wall of the elevator. He closes his eyes, licking his lips.

"Jey......what's happening? Why are we leaving so suddenly? I don't understand. I'm scared." You say, your lower lip trembling slightly.

The past couple of hours have been quite overwhelming and Jey's abrupt behavior wasn't making it any better. It was making you a little scared of him. Granted, he stated he was your husband, but acting like this made you concerned. It was bad enough that you got into a terrible car accident, woke up thinking you're dead, but then learned you're not dead, yet can't remember sh*t. And on top of that, learning you're pregnant too.

"Y/n.....I promise. We'll talk when we get home, okay? I know this is confusing and scary, but you just have to trust me. I would never hurt you." Jey finally responds, looking down at you with apologetic eyes.

You turn away from him, a stray tear falling down your cheek as you quickly wipe it away.

The elevator dings, signaling you've arrived on the first floor. Jey quietly pushes you through the hospital lobby, your eyes scanning over the various sick people in the emergency waiting room. Some young, some old. Some babies, some adults.

Hospitals were scary to you and a part of you was secretly glad to be leaving but the question was, where exactly were you leaving off to? What was the place you called home? You try to ease your aching headache as Jey guides you through the hospital before you're finally outside. Thankfully, the rain had stopped, however, the night was cold, and you could feel the cool air through your clothes. You hold your daughter closer to you, feeling her suddenly begin to shiver.

You say nothing as y'all go through the parking lot until you reach a black SUV. Jey pulled out his keys from his pocket and unlocked the car. He looks around again as if expecting something or someone to approach. He shakes his head, and you swear you heard him mumble "Get it together Joshua".

He gets in on his side, making sure to lock the doors as he turns the car on and immediately turns on the heat. Which you were highly thankful for because you were about to freeze. You gently relax into your seat as he pulls out of the parking lot.

The radio plays Luther Vandross- Here and Now as you feel yourself drifting off to sleep. You were trying to fight the sleep, but you were barely winning.

"Baby?........ Get some rest. It's gonna be a long ride." Jey says softly, taking your hand into his hand that wasn't on the wheel.

You look over at him, nodding your head slowly before your eyes close.

~~

"We're here." You hear Jey announce as you slowly wake up from your long slumber, yawning and stretching.

"Goodmorning Mommy!" Amya giggles from the backseat.

"Morning? How long was I asleep?" You question as you look around at the unfamiliar, but beautiful scenery. Your eyes then lay on the house in which Jey identified as home. It was beautiful and inviting looking.

You turn to smile at your daughter who is fully awake. "What time is it?" you ask Jey as he yawns.

"7 in the morning. Come on, let's get some rest." He answers, hopping out of the car.

"Daddy, can we have breakfast first?! I'm so hungry." Amya whines as he helps her out of the car.

"I'll make us breakfast, but first Daddy gotta get some rest, ok? I'll make your favorite chocolate chip pancakes." Jey says as she nods excitedly, running towards the front door.

"She's a ball of energy. I just wish I remembered something about her. About us." You say softly to Jey as he gives you a reassuring smile.

"I know, but right now you can't worry about that. Now that we're finally home as a family......things will make more sense." He says as he holds you close to him, picking you up bridal-style to help you out of the car.

"Home sweet home." He mumbles, taking steps towards the place he knew you were always welcomed to.

[awkward-tension-art]

Test Results

This is more or less self-indulgent to the time I had to fight tooth and nail to get a proper diagnosis for my fatigue issues. My heart goes out to everyone battling the healthcare system to get proper care for chronic diseases. My heart is with you, and I hope you find a doctor who can help get answers.

Pronouns: Gender-neutral, but I wrote this with AFAB!reader in mind.

Tw: Medical procedures, chronic illness, medical gaslighting, swearing, this has a lot of feelings put into it

Minors, get out of here. My writing isn’t for you.

“Your blood test results came back clear”

Those words would have most people feeling relief. Nothing was wrong. They were healthy.

But those words to you brought you to tears.

You sobbed in the driver seat of your car. What doctor was this? The 5th? 6th? How long did you wait to see this latest doctor? How many copays have you been charged? How much blood has been taken?

All of that, you still didn’t have answers!

You were sick. And no one seemed to care enough to find out why.

It’s all in your head.

It’s your period.

You need to lose weight.

You’re stressed.

You sobbed again. And again. Hot tears streamed down your face as you drove home. You had to pull over into a grocery store parking lot just to weep again. Getting home took twice as long.

You didn’t feel much better once you were sitting on your bed. Your tear-filled eyes kept looking at the paper in your hands.

Within range.

Negative.

All clear.

Nothings wrong.

Why were you sick?! You knew your body shouldn’t feel this way. This wasn’t normal.

Your breath hitched and you crumbled up the blood test results. They’ll be added to the ever growing file of other useless results that told you nothing.

Your face was in your hands as you broke down in frustration.

You were so tired.

Your thoughts were so overwhelming, you didn’t hear the door to your bedroom open.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” Leon, your ever sweet boyfriend, knelt in front of you, “take a breath. What’s wrong? What did the doctor say?”

“Nothing!” You wept, “still nothing! They didn’t even bother to talk to me about other referrals!” Your finger pointed to the crumbled up papers with your results.

Leon straightened out the paper to look at it, “another CBC?”

Complete blood count. The most standard of blood tests. The one that all doctors seemed to default to. The test that wasn’t helping you at all.

“They didn’t want to test for anything else.” You whimpered, shoulders shaking, “Why won’t anyone listen to me?”

His strong arms wrapped around you. Leon knew was it was like to scream for answers and only be left with silence in return. He rubbed your back, just letting you cry out your feelings.

By the end of it you were exhausted.

“I’m so tired…” you sniffled. There really wasn’t any other word for it. You were just so damn tired.

“I know.” He murmured, planting a kiss on your head. He held you so tightly. So protectively, “Want me to come with you to the next appointment?”

You debated. Your words and concerns weren’t being taken seriously. Would they listen to Leon? Would they finally do more tests than the standard ones? Would they dig deeper, and try and find the source of your misery?

“Please?” You asked softly, “I don’t…maybe they’ll listen to you.”

He scoffed, “they should be listening to you.”

“They aren’t.”

“I know.” Leon whispered, “I know. And it’s not fair.”

You largely calm down now. Still, you dreaded the idea of making another appointment just to get referred to someone else. You’ve been ping-ponged around the medical specialists in your community so many times you could probably get an Olympic medal for it.

“Next time a doctor tries to brush you off, I can go all asshole and demand for more tests.” Your boyfriend said suddenly.

You couldn’t help but snort. Maybe that could work. At least he’d be able to hold your hand while you got your blood taken again.

“I think I’d like that.” You rested your head on his shoulder.

“We’ll figure this out.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “I’ll help fight for you.”

“Thanks Leon.” You mumbled, giving him a small smile.

At least he believed you. Even if no one else did.