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#medical inaccuracies
bigassmoonchild · 7 months
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Ghost
Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader
Word Count: 3.1k
Summary: Simons body was back, but he wasn't really Simon. No, it was Ghost inhabiting the shell of Simons body, but even Ghost seemed to recognize you. Either way, there were days left of him being able to come back, and you didn't want to grieve your mate twice.
Content Tags: Angst, Hurt/No comfort, Medical Inaccuracies, Made Up Medical Shit ab Omegaverse, Not Quite Simon, Ghost and Simon are different people, Mentions of Violence, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha! Ghost, No Use of Y/N
A/N: I'm spoiling y'all again with more uploads <3. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! Fun fact, these take me about two hours to write, but they're not beta-read or edited. As always, content is under the cut and my asks are open!!
Part 1 | Previous, Next | Headcannons, Masterlist
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"What are some probable ways we bring people out of ferality?" You asked the squad standing around you. They were a few days out from graduating and at this point you were just filling time. None of them said anything, lookin around at each other. You sighed deeply.
Trip raised her hand and you stared at her. "Scents?" You blinked slowly, waiting for her to elaborate. "If we can get him a fresh scent of some packmate or a person he's especially close to then it can get him a focus point," she explained. You hummed.
Turning to look at the whiteboard you'd started with different plans to get Simon back, there were a few options you had. "The only problem with that, Trip, is that it could cause death," you whispered. The whiteboard had streaks where you'd erased and rewritten things.
Scent. Medications. Time. Death.
You sighed deeply, still thinking over anything else you could do. If you forced suppressants into his body, it would decrease the hormones in his body but the question was focusing on how to get them in him.
There weren't aerosol sedatives, he had ripped off the bindings that they had used to get him in the cell in the first place. 'What's wrong with him?' Price had asked. All you could do was shake your head, not legally able to explain anything. Fuck HIPAA.
Doctors, civilian doctors, had come in and started to try and take over. Even the doctors above you were fighting, because he wasn't a civilian. All they wanted was to use him and figure out how to bring a person out of ferality. Especially an Alpha.
"There are several ways we can fight ferality, but none of which have proven to do them well," you explained, looking around at everyone. There was nothing you could feasibly do, you knew. Similar to rabies, it wasn't something that anyone really came back from.
You sighed deeply. "Attempts have been made, but none of them came through. With too much time in ferality, a persons brain begins to shut down. We don't entirely know why, it hasn't been able to be studied, but there is very little we can do," you had to look away. "Either way, you work your hardest to ensure comfort," you had decided to add that at the end.
All you knew was that you needed to make sure he was comfortable. You knew your mate, you knew he deserved that at the very least. A knock on the conference door brought everyones attention as one of the civvy doctors walked in.
"You'll need to go in there," he told you. Shaking your head in confusion, you looked at him. "If he can recognize your scent, you'll be able to get sedatives in him. You'll be able to help us make him the first survivor," he whispered. Excusing yourself, the two of you moved quickly through the halls to make it to his cell area.
Standing in front of it, watching him stare at everyone through the balaclava, you felt your heart breaking. This wasn't Simon. It was Ghost. Blinking slowly, you listened to the hustle and bustle around you. It was like looking at him for the first time again. A man you didn't know, but was intrinsically connected to you.
With a deep sigh, you looked around at the doctors around you. "I may be his mate, but he won't recognize my scent," you whispered. "I'm pregnant, and we all know that changes someone scent," a few murmurs came from some of the doctors.
Looking away, you glanced at Ghost once more.
"I'll do it," you added.
They had you change into clothes he interacted with you the most in. So you wore your sleep clothes, just something you'd been wearing the night before. With the sedative slipped up your sleeve, the door outside the cell was unlocked.
"You know what to do," they told you. The plan wasn't all that concrete, just get in there and stab him. Very good plan, one of the best you'd ever seen. God, you wished Price had been allowed to format the whole thing. He might have a backup in case things went south.
Stepping through the now unlocked cell door, you took a quick glance back at the doors blocking your escape. Looking through the cell, Ghosts eyes were on you. Unblinking, the eyes you knew were gone. Blacked out, his pupil dilated so wide.
You didn't make eye contact with him other than the quick glance, keeping your head bowed down to try and remain as small as possible. If you weren't seen as a danger, he might not attack you. Might.
Movement brought your eyes up, seeing him standing to his full height and move to you. Slow but still graceful. You could see his face twitching, watched his chest heave with each breath he took. He was scenting you and you allowed it.
Closer, he grew closer and leaned his head close, you could hear the heaving pants as he drew your scent into him. Ghosts head dropped against your neck, pushing your head to force you to bare it to him. You could feel his nose nudging against you, feel his hands grasp at your arms and tug you closer.
You could almost feel tears filling your eyes, thinking back to the past two or so months filled with grief and eventual relief. A huffing grunt came from Ghost, almost displeasure at your scent changing. He tugged you with him, dragging you over to where he'd been sitting for the last few days.
Pushing you to sit, he stood over you. Your eyes opened, looking up at him and feeling the tears finally fall. A groaning whine came from him, his wide eyes glancing around to find something to cheer you up. You knew his thought process, you'd seen ferality in people before.
Only once had you seen it in him.
Ghost dropped next to you, tugging you into his lap and holding you close. He began huffing at your neck, pressing his scent out around you to try and soothe you. It seemed your scent was almost soothing him as well, allowing him a reprieve of the stress and fear over the last however long he'd been away.
God, how much you had missed this. The two of you didn't talk much, but you soaked this in as much as you could. His scent swirling around you, the feeling of his hands and arms wrapped tightly around you. You could feel yourself relaxing, felt the press of his head against yours.
Deep breaths brought his scent into you, albeit not being strong from where you were pressed into his chest. You could hear his heart thumping strongly against his chest, a true showing of his survival.
Pushing your hands to the back of his neck and shifting, just a little, you felt your throat choking around sobs. "'m so sorry," you whispered to him and he made another grunting whine at you.
You pressed the syringe in his neck and he jerked, but you were able to push the plunger all the way down. He whined against you, grabbing you tighter. Over the next few minutes, his grip slowly waned.
His body relaxed fully under you and you could feel the tears sliding down your cheeks begin to pick up. Stuffing your head into his neck, you inhaled deeply. Leather, tobacco and little hints of his own musk. God, you missed it, but the civilian doctors were flooding the room. Pulling you away and injecting him with different suppressants.
They dragged him away, forcing him out of your line of sight. You felt similar to how you'd initially felt when receiving his tags. Numb, like you were watching everything happening over a television.
Alpha is back.
You found Price waiting for you, just outside the medical center the doctors had dragged Ghost to. "How are you, Doc?" You fought the tears, feeling little hiccups coming from your chest.
"I don't know," you looked up at him. "I never thought I'd be able to see him again, but it's not him," you whispered. "That's not my Simon, that's Ghost,"
You knew when Ghost woke up, hearing the snarling roars coming from his chest. The suppressants hadn't worked, but he was still set to be pumped full of more in the next few days. The doctors found you sitting at the front desk, rubbing your face.
"Come with us," they said and dragged you to Ghosts room, where his snarls and roars quieted down to growls. As you sat beside him, placing your hands on whatever you could reach his growls quieted into little huffs and grunts.
You pressed yourself as close as they would allow you to him. "I missed you so much," you whispered and his head whipped around to look at you. His pupils were still so dilated, but you could make out his eye color just barely.
His eyes were always so pretty. You sighed and dropped your head to look down at the ground.
"It's been so long," you choked out. "So, so long," he looked at you, nearly blankly. God, you hoped that somewhere in that stupid head of his he could hear you. "Been almost two months, you wanna know something?" You asked, lifting your head to give him a weak smile.
All Ghost did was blink at you, slowly. Almost like he was listening, you noticed. His heartrate was dropping closer to normal rates, blood pressure dropping little by little as the minutes wore on.
"I'm pregnant," you gave a wet laugh. "I found out not too long after you left for your mission, and y'know what?" He didn't respond, but you could see the dilation of his eyes shifting just barely.
Looking away and swallowing thickly, all you could do was give little sobs.
"God, I missed you so much," you sobbed out. "When they gave me your dog tags that one morning, I didn't know what to think. I was so numb for so long but Price knocked sense into me," you choked another wet laugh. "Just like how he would do with you," you whispered.
"Pups," he whispered, staring at you. Your mouth gaped open, staring at him. His voice was rough, gravelly. It sounded like he either hadn't talked in months or had been screaming his voice out. "Pups," he whispered again, hand moving before getting caught by the handcuffs.
"Oh my god," you whispered. You lunged to get closer to him and heard scrambling at the door. People surrounded you and tugged you away, dragging you out of the door but you could hear it. His heartrate increased severely, and you could assume his blood pressure was skyrocketing again. "Stop!" You shouted, writhing against the people dragging you away.
There was a large snarl from Ghost, you could just see over everyone his writhing form as needles were stabbed into him. The door closed just as his head shot up and you could catch one last look of the fear filling his eyes. Hands tugged you away, pulling you from the area.
"No!" You still were screaming, not even realizing what you were doing. "Please, I need to be there!" You fought against the hands that pulled you further and further from the room.
"You can't," it was Price. "You can't be there, they need to be able to work on him without people in the way," he whispered to you.
"I was getting through to him, Price," he shook his head. "He spoke to me," you whispered, tugging him closer to you. "All he said was 'pups' before they dragged me out," Price looked away.
He sighed deeply. "We know," he said. "We were listening in, but you need to understand something," he made you look at him. "That isn't your mate anymore," he whispered. "He's been feral for too long,"
"No," you shook your head. "No, it's going to be okay," you whispered. "They still have a few days," you looked away. "They can't give up on him,"
Price looked away. "They're giving one more push of suppressants," he told you. "Giving them a few days, they're going to use you to help bring him out but if this doesn't work they'll need to keep him comfortable until the end," you couldn't look at him.
You weren't going to look at any of these people, how dare they give up on him so quickly? For minutes on end, you sat near Price, just waiting. For what, you didn't know, but Price wasn't allowing you to leave.
Minutes dragged into hours. Just like the hours that stole your last moments with Simon before he came back as Ghost. Minutes that you could've been in there with Ghost, comforting him as they did things to him.
He wouldn't know what was happening, his mind was too preoccupied with survival. You couldn't stop hearing his one word replaying in your mind, the recognition you now could see in his eyes. The door opened but you didn't look up, doctors came out slowly but surely.
Feet stopped in front of you, where you'd been staring at the ground. "Ma'am?" The voice whispered above you and you finally looked up. "You can go back in, now," he whispered. You knew that in the few lucid minutes a feral person had were the few minutes when more medicine should be pumped into them.
You had never expected the fear that would fill the lovers when this type of thing happened. When you were still training, you had never expected fear to be combined into others. You had no words for what you felt as you walked back in the room and saw Ghost snarl at you, his eyes no longer filled with recognition.
Sitting where you had been, you gazed over the Alpha. Blinking slowly, you moved your hands to where they had once been sitting, not so many hours ago.
"I miss you," you whispered to the Alpha. "God, I missed you so much," you could see his chest heaving with breaths, nearly see his mouth dropping open under the balaclava to allow more of your scent in. You sighed deeply.
Looking around you, the room was so bare. Something you would only use to describe hospital rooms. It hurt, knowing your Alpha was stuck here. Somewhere you weren't allowed to help.
"The rest of the pack have been helping me out, y'know," you smiled softly. Make this as normal as possible, you told yourself. "Soap's been joining me at my appointments," you looked down at Ghost. "Gaz has been making sure I take care of myself, and Price is doing his best to help during the night," you choked out a laugh.
You hear a soft little hum come from Ghost. His eyes were filling with recognition, little by little. Leaning towards him, you tried to catch his eye. They were dilating, his heartrate slowed.
He hummed again and you looked away. "I need you to come back, Simon," you whispered to him. You looked up at him, gazing over what you could see. His eyes, moving quickly around the room and grazing over you before moving away.
A deep sigh came from you and you sat there with him, watching the clock slowly tick as time carried on. Neither of you said anything and you watched as his eyes slowly drifted shut. You could feel the exhaustion slowly settling into your body, from the different emotions you'd been sent through over the last few days.
Standing up quietly, you let yourself out of the room. With one more look back, you watched the Alpha breathe slowly in his sleep. Closing the door behind you, you found Price.
Gesturing for him to follow you, the two of you slowly made your way to your office. When you unlocked the door, you sat yourself down in your chair and watched as Price closed the door behind him. He sat in front of you, lighting a cigar.
Quiet. For a few minutes, it was just quiet outside of the drag of his cigar and the soft breathing between the two of you. "He's home, Doc," he whispered. "Simons home,"
"It's not Simon," you looked at him. "That's Ghost. My Simon is not sitting in that bed, it may be his body but it's not him," you responded sharply. He looked away from you, sucking at his teeth. You blinked rapidly, trying to get the sleep out of them.
You sighed deeply, rubbing your hands over your face as you looked around the office. The one place where you and Simon had grown so close, the one place where the two of you had found peace.
"I've spent the last however many months grieving," you said. "I've grieved the life of my mate, and now he's back but it isn't him. That isn't my mate," you whispered, giving a short pause. "I can't grieve him again, Price, it'll destroy me," he reached over and rested his hand against yours.
He gave a little smile. "You won't have to grieve him again," he said. "The way he's progressing is making the doctors very happy," you gave a short laugh. "He could be the first case of survival through ferality, and you were the key to it," he told you.
For another few moments there was silence. Neither of you spoke, but you could see the pity in his eyes. Closing your eyes, you just breathed, still faintly able to smell Ghost albeit the scent becoming stale.
"I just need my Alpha," you whispered. "I need him back. I don't care if it means I fight an entire group of Doctors, they can't just kill him, Price," you opened your eyes and looked at him. "They can't just kill him," he didn't meet your eye.
"It's getting late," Price told you. "I think you need to go back to your room and sleep. Now," you didn't look at him, allowing him to guide you to your room. When you entered, he gave you a grim little smile before closing the door behind you.
Now that you were alone, you had no idea what to do. Your Alpha was just a few minutes walk away from you, but you wouldn't be able to enter that room again. They'd close down the medical center from visitors, even with your access as a doctor they wouldn't allow you to enter the room.
Crawling into your cold nest, you laid there. Shirt pressed to your face from where you could still faintly smell Ghost when he'd held you. Closing your eyes, you could almost feel his arms wrapping around you. You could almost smell him right there, right next to you.
And that's how you felt asleep, dreaming of your Alpha wrapping himself around you and making sure you knew everything would be okay. Even you didn't believe it.
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How do you think morphing technology would affect organ donations when people can morph into other people who are perfect matches of donor hosts and then have their organs removed and survive
I love this idea. It's just gross and impractical enough to feel like it fits with the realism of Animorphs, while still being the kind of thing that would be world-changing for health care. IMHO it makes more sense than the government letting everyone morph in lieu of health care — there are all kinds of security and health insurance groups that would throw up huge barriers to that idea — but it would still be huge.
Assuming there's a strict vetting process for who gets the morphing ability, you could have ~100 people who agree to acquire and morph ~100 patients a year in order to give them organs. There'd be tremendous risk involved, of course, since even a routine surgery to remove a kidney can go wrong. But you could compensate the morpher accordingly, and put limits on type of donation. (For example, I hate to say it but this wouldn't work for heart or lung transplants.)
This makes perfect sense as the kind of horrible-but-wonderful new job that would spring up in the aftermath of the Yeerk-Human War.
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harveywritings92 · 1 year
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[R/n is in labor and Soap gets her to the hospital, while trying to call Ghost who’s currently in a stuck training op so his phone was off. Soap also notices the hospital staff aren’t taking Y/n’s labor seriously, and are pretty much ignoring his pleas for help!]
R/n: J-Johnny, the baby is coming…
Soap: I know lass as just wait for a doc…
R/n: N-no, I-I mean right now, I gotta push and you need catch it.
[Soap goes goes blue in the face.]
Soap: What if Johnny doesn’t want to catch it?
R/n, grabs him by the shirt: JOHNNY BETTER F*CKING CATCH IT OR HE’LL BE CATCHING MY WRATH!
Soap, terrified: Okay, okay…(Looks between R/n’s leg and sees the head!) 
Soap, panicking: Oh Shite, it’s comin! Ok uhm....
[While R/n is busy pushing; Soap frantically looks around the room for something to catch and cover the baby with, he quickly grabs a towel off a table and gets back to R/n he gets his arms under her legs just in time to catch his newborn godchild! Soap looking down at the baby in shock just as a nurse walks in.]
Nurse: Alright miss L/n we’re ready to…
(The nurse stares slacked jaw at Soap whose holding a bloody gunk covered crying newborn still attached to mom.]
Soap, pissed off: Ye fuckers certainly took yer sweet ass time, didn’t ye?
Nurse, picks her jaw off the floor:…I, y-You can’t do that!
Soap: Well I’m certainly not puttin’ it back!
{Needless to say, Ghost nearly had an aneurysm when he heard how his child was born!]
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rejectedbytheempty · 2 months
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TRAPPED PT. 2
a/n: okay wow i didn’t think that many ppl would want a part 2 lmao. sorry, i’ve been busy w schoolwork but i finally got around to writing the second part 🙏🙏
previous part
tw: sewing up a wound? idk it’s not very graphic but i feel like it should be noted
“How could I be so stupid!” Villain cried out, running their hands up their face, then pushing the heels of their palms against their eyes.
They sighed deeply and let their hands fall to their sides before glancing over at Hero. They were just sitting there, staring at a random point on the floor. It shocked Villain to see how pale their face had gotten, “God, Hero. I’m- Christ, I don’t even know what to do. Say something, please. Yell at me, punch me, do something.”
Hero didn’t seem to even register that Villain was speaking, they just sat there, looking like a kicked puppy.
“Shit, I’m going to help you, you’re going to be okay. I promise, Hero,” Villain said, it felt almost like they were talking to the wall of their prison cell.
“Hello? Is there anyone there?” Villain called out, half expecting no one to answer but in a moment a face peeked around the corner, someone that Villain assumed was the guard Supervillain left to keep them in check. However, the guard looked scared half out of their mind.
“Yes?” They answered. Villain had to hold back a grin, it was good to know that they still had that effect on people.
“We need medical supplies in here, Hero is practically bleeding out.”
The guard swallowed nervously, “Um, I don’t know if I’m allowed to give you anything.”
Villain rolled their eyes, “Right, which would make sense if I asked you for a sword or something, but I doubt I could get very far with a roll of gauze.”
The guard bit their lip, running the options through their mind for a moment before nodding, “Okay, I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”
“Right, I’ll keep that in mind,” Villain muttered to themselves as the guard left.
“I-I’m sorry.”
Villain quickly turned to see Hero laying there, their eyes glistening with tears.
“I shouldn’t have come here, all I’ve done is mess things up. Escape while you have a chance, so both of us don’t have to be stuck here,” Hero managed to rasp out.
Villain shook their head, “Don’t talk like that. I’ll get you patched up and we’ll find a way out of here, it was my fault we’re here in the first place.” Just then the guard came back with the supplies, opening the cell door and handing them to Villain. For a moment, Villain glanced at the open door, freedom was right there. All they had to do was subdue the guard and make it out before anyone notices they are gone. In the corner of their eye, however, lay Hero, shivering and pale. They ripped their gaze from the door and quickly snatched the kit from the guard’s hands and turned to Hero. The resounding sound of a lock clicking echoed through their cell and Villain sighed, their shoulders slumping. Well, no turning back now, they thought. They shook their head to dispel those thoughts and got to work. It didn’t seem to be too bad of a wound, it was deep, but it was a clean cut.
“Okay, I’m going to pour some alcohol on it to clean it out, it’s gonna hurt like a bitch, but we don’t want it to get infected.”
Hero nodded, smiling softly, “It’s not as bad as looking at your face.”
Villain chuckled, “Right, why did I think that you were ever capable of being serious?” They then poured the liquid over the cut as Hero gritted their teeth together, sucking in a deep breath.
“See, I knew you could do it,” Villain smiled down at Hero who gave an exhausted laugh. From then on it was easy work, sewing the wound closed and wrapping gauze around Hero’s midsection to soak up any more blood and protect it from the grimey cell they were in.
“There, all done.” Hero grunted as they attempted to sit up, but Villain was quick to put a hand on Hero’s chest and back, leading them back to a laying down position.
“Christ, Hero, you’re not invincible. Don’t try doing anything too drastic,” Villain chided.
“Oh, right, I forgot” Hero said in a dazed tone, their eyes half lidded.
Villain drew back their hands, Hero now laying down flat on their cot, their blinks getting longer and longer as their adrenaline had now faded.
“You know what?” Hero asked, staring at Villain through their eyelashes, “I always thought you were pretty.”
Villain stared down at Hero in disbelief, heat rising to their cheeks, “I- what?” But Hero had already fallen asleep, chest rising and falling in a steady pattern. Villain stood there for a moment, face contorted in confusion before they let out a sharp laugh.
“God, Hero, you are something else” Villain chuckled to themself.
Reaching over, they ran their hand through Hero’s hair before tucking a loose strand of hair behind Hero’s ear. Villain quickly pulled their hand back, feeling as if they were snapping out of a trance, “Fuck, what am I doing?” They couldn’t afford connections, especially not with Hero. They had to remember where they were, who they were. I need to get out of here, before I do anything else stupid, Villain thought.
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quisters · 3 months
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Now that I work in a shock trauma unit, Malevolent is starting feel more and more like this scene:
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pollyna · 1 year
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In Bradley's memory, learning to drive will forever smell like oranges his dad ate all along that winter when the doctor grounded him because his blood work showed vitamin deficiency. Even now, twenty years later, he can still smell the lingering smell of citrus on the seat leather, and sometimes, when he is so homesick he could cry, he sits behind the wheel and breathes, counting from ten to zero and then again, while he waits for someone to pick up on the other side of the video call. 
"Hey kid." Mav says, moving around the house, reaching out for Ice. 
"Hey, baby Goose." he adds.
"Hey dads" he smiles, eyes watering a little "it's good to see you both."
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bleedingintogold · 1 year
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8 months.
8 months from the time Leader did not return from a solo mission.
8 months since Leader's tracker went dead.
8 months passed as they looked for him.
8 months until his signal appeared on their radar again, beeping bright red.
Heavy rain pelts on their backs as they scoure the forest in search of their missing brother.
"Leader!" "Keep looking, he's somewhere here!"
Teammate came to the horrifying conclusion when he realized that they were standing on top of where Leader should be. No. Oh hell no.
Leader's bright red signal started to beep more alarmingly as they dug into the soil. Within 15 minutes, Leader's tracker went black. They dug faster. It took another 10 minutes before they found a wooden box, a coffin.
Another 3 for them to break it open.
The team burns 30 seconds to pull out a body, cold and light from the box. A body that was once built strong and sturdy, now thin and covered in dried blood.
Medic pulled Leader onto flat ground, immediately attempting CPR. Ribs crack audibly as the team shield them all from the pouring rain under layered rain jackets.
2 minutes.
4 minutes.
The oldest sees no progress, her hand reaching to stop Medic.
5 minutes.
The dead body on the ground comes back to life, coughing violently as he eventually turns over and retches out dirt and blood.
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zoocchini · 1 year
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Doodle dump 2
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anticomedygarden · 1 year
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wolf
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tw: blood and injury
sequel
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"Fuck, fuck, motherfucking christ, jesus, fuck," Sirius muttered as he tore off his steaming shirt and pants and tried to ignore the frankly disturbing sounds coming from outside.
The young man had just gotten home after a 16-hour shift at the hospital, and he was not in the fucking mood. As soon as he'd gotten home, he sped through a shower, changed into pajamas, and heated up some leftover soup James had sent with him last weekend, and all he wanted was to eat and watch some mindless TV, and that was exactly what he had been about to do, at least until something made a loud crashing sound outside, and he flinched so badly that he spilled his hot soup all over himself. 
Now his thighs and stomach were burning, his clothes were unwearable, the couch was ruined, there was soup everywhere, and some-animal-or something was probably dying from blunt force trauma in his front yard. Fuck.
He sighed and walked into the laundry room. Doctors didn’t need sleep, right?
Once he found a shirt and old football shorts good enough for his own front yard at 5:30 in the morning on a Wednesday, the strange noises had mostly stopped, and Sirius deemed it safe enough to venture outside. After all, if he didn't, one of his neighbors would, and that could only result in a call from the commonhold.
Walking toward the front door, he wondered idly if the sun was out yet. As an ER doctor who often worked overtime, he missed the sunrise and sunset most days, and his thick curtains rarely let any light in, a so far unsuccessful strategy to combat his insomnia.
The sun was not out. It was dark as fuck. He tripped on a rock.
"I hope you're happy with yourself," he muttered, even as he clearly saw absolutely nothing in the yard. Groaning, he walked around to the side of the house and stopped short.
There was trash everywhere. The garbage bins were completely overturned, old food was strewn across the lawn, and the bin lids had rolled into the neighbor's property. Christ, this would take hours to clean up.
Just as he was setting the lids back on his side of the property line, he heard a thud and a low moan.
With one last mournful look at his front door, Sirius traipsed into the backyard, and got his third shock of the morning.
A massive grey wolf was laying sprawled out in his bushes, blood from a dozen wounds leaking sluggishly into the dirt. Immediately, Sirius snapped into ER mode. 
First, he ran his hand along the inside of the animal’s inner thigh until he found a pulse - slow, but definitely there. Then, he checked quickly for any head, neck, or back injuries, and finding none, carefully lifted the thing in his arms, wincing at the feeling of blood on his bare skin. He stumbled to the back door, staggering under the weight of the easily 200 lb canine. The door swung open easily which meant he forgot to lock it again, but within two minutes, Sirius was setting the wolf down on the cement floor of his basement. 
Next, he ran upstairs and grabbed his emergency medical bag and ran back downstairs, then ran back upstairs when he remembered that wounds on dogs should be cleaned with water, not disinfectant, and got several wet towels. 
When he made it back downstairs, he quickly knelt and started taking stock of the injuries. They all seemed to be surface level claw marks with what looked like large bite marks here and there, nothing deep but several long and still bleeding. 
“All right, bud, I’m gonna start cleaning some of these scratches,” Sirius told the dog, a habit he’d picked from one of his instructors. The wolf didn’t give any sign of awareness, not even when he touched the wet cloth to the biggest scratch on the animal’s back. “Something really got you good, huh, buddy?” 
He continued cleaning the wounds and eventually moved onto bandages until the wolf’s whole abdomen as well as a hind leg were all wrapped up. Sirius would still have to get the animal seen by a vet, but for now, it would do. 
He moved to stand but stopped when the wolf gave an absolutely pitiful whine and turned its snout toward Sirius. It whined again. 
“Hey, buddy,” he whispered, rubbing the animal behind the ears. “Good morning.”
Suddenly, the animal’s eyes opened wide, revealing beautiful amber orbs, and the thing fucking screamed. Horrified, Sirius fell backward, and there was nothing he could do but watch as the wolf writhed on the floor, and, as if that wasn’t enough, its fur started disappearing, pulled back into what looked like golden-tan human skin. The elongated snout retreated to form a normal human nose, the ears shrank, leading into matted light brown curls, and the clawed paws turned into human hands, stained with blood, and then Sirius was looking at a fully grown human man. 
“What the fuck?”
-
word count: 843 @wolfstarmicrofic
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xxbottlecapx · 1 year
Text
Another idea I had for a Steve has seizures snippet
Steve gets temporary amnesia because of a seizure. After trying to ask Eddie out on a date, Eddie gets to tell Steve that they are already dating. 
Steve was going to tear a hole in the rug if he didn’t stop pacing. 
Dustin had wanted to have a party at Steve’s house to celebrate the downfall of the upside down. From what Eddie has heard, the upside down tended to refuse to stay dead. He hoped that it would make an exception to the rule just this once. Eddie wouldn’t say it, but his greatest fear was that he would have to live through it again, which kind of made him feel like a bad person considering everyone else has dealt with it at least twice, but Eddie digresses. 
Anyways, Eddie knew about Steve’s anxiety over the party; or, better put, a small get together. 
Steve couldn’t handle the general ambiance of a loud and brightly lit party anymore unless he took some serious steps to bring accommodations along, which still made him nervous. 
Even so, he harbored extreme paranoia about having a seizure in public. What if someone that knew his parents saw and alerted them? That’s what Steve had told Eddie, at least. 
Fortunately for Dustin, the teenager truly had become Steve’s Achilles heel. Case in point: the second Dustin suggested it, Steve agreed to host a “Congrats, we didn’t die!” Celebration at his house. He even took the cover off the pool and had it professionally cleaned so that the teenagers could turn it in to a pool party, despite how hard it was for him to do so (Eddie had to calm him down multiple times during the process.) 
You would think that the party or the pool would be what was currently making him pace back and forth for the better half of the hour, or maybe his fear that he would have a seizure during the party (everyone knew about them, so it’s not like they wouldn’t know how to deal with it) no, it was none of the things you would expect your neurotic demon-killing boyfriend to get nervous over. It was honestly kind of refreshing. 
Steve made Pasta Con Patate. 
It was his Nonno Otis’ favorite recipe. Steve had a large hand-made cookbook from Otis, which was one of the only reasons Steve had ever learned how to cook. 
The problem was that Steve had never been allowed to share it with anyone. His father thought cooking was a disgraceful hobby for a man, and his mother wanted nothing to do with her Italian heritage, so openly making authentic Italian dishes was out of the question. 
Eddie and Robin were the only ones that Steve has openly cooked for so far (and, for some reason, Argyle. Which made sense upon further examination seeing as he was the least intimidating person that one could cook for. You could give the man a plate filled with stale almonds and he’d genuinely enjoy it. Indisputable fact: There was no possible way to disappoint Argyle.) 
After much encouragement from both Robin (Steve’s platonic soulmate) and Eddie (Steve’s boyfriend) Steve had finally gotten the courage to openly cook for the rest of the group. 
That isn’t to say that the others have never tried Steve’s food before. It’s just that Steve usually lied to them. 
Once, Steve made cantucci for one of Eddie’s DnD campaigns but made Eddie swear to tell the party that the lady in the trailer to his left had made it. 
Eddie was completely and utterly besotted with Steve so obviously he did it, though he didn’t want to. This was a trend that, months later, has still continued. 
“Sweetheart, if you keep stressing about this, you’re gonna cause an attack.” Eddie said as he sat a bowl of cheese tid-bits in the middle of the living room table. He walked back into the kitchen to grab some popcorn. 
“I know, I need to calm down.” Steve continued walking in the hallway, turning left then right, then speeding around the couch. His footsteps made a gentle thudding sound. “But what if they don’t like it?” He rubbed his shaking hands over his face. Eddie couldn’t tell if it was a nervous thing or a muscle spasm. 
“Well, first off, they will like it.” Eddie sat down the opened container of cookies, opening the plastic lid. In the crook of his elbow he awkwardly held two bags of lukewarm popcorn. 
“Second off, I put molding hot sauce in all the Oreos, so anything you make will taste ten times better in comparison.” 
This makes Steve finally stop pacing, taking his hands off his cheeks. 
“Please tell me you didn’t do that.” He said after a second. 
Eddie didn’t look him in the eye as he continued stocking the preordained snack table. “Have I ever lied to you, Stevie?”
Steve moved his trembling hands. “Oh my god,” he sighs, “go throw those away.” He picks up a vintage pillow and attempts to hit Eddie in the back of the head, making Eddie drop half of the Oreos. 
“I’m just!” Eddie ducked, scrambling behind the couch. “I’m just being helpful! I’m supporting my darling boyfriend!” Eddie clung to the couch and placed his hand over his heartbeat, dramatically leaning back until he was almost completing a backbend. “You can’t punish me for this!” 
“Eddie! Away!” Steve threw the pillow and successfully hit Eddie in the stomach. 
Eddie sprawled himself on the clean floor, giving out an exaggerated zombie noise in defeat before grabbing the Oreos and dashing madly towards the kitchen to hide them from Steve’s wasteful eyes. 
Fortunately for Eddie’s cookies, the doorbell rang before Steve could chase him down the corridor, and it immediately sent Steve into Host Mode. 
Joyce is here first. Punctual, as always, carrying a glass tray with her. 
Everyone had been tasked with bringing food along. Eddie thought it would make Steve less nervous if his pasta wasn’t the main course. The last thing Eddie wanted to do was make Steve so stressed that he had a bad seizure. 
Despite Eddie’s wish to continue watching Steve flutter around like a nervous butterfly, Eddie takes the large dish out of Joyce’s hands and puts it on the table in the dining room. She made chocolate babka and (Eddie had been told) Will and Jonathan made matzo ball soup. 
If the list in Eddie’s head was correct, Eleven was making sweet potato waffles, Mike supposedly just bought a tin of muffins from the store, Argyle was bringing mole, Dustin made vegan pudding, Nancy was in charge of drinks, Robin was bringing hotdogs, (he’s sure Murray was bringing vodka) and Max made dandelion salad. 
Eddie didn’t have to make food since he’s the one that made all the decorations (a large “congrats, you didn’t die!” paper banner hanging from the ceiling, a bunch of paper bats taped to the walls, and he was of course in charge of the movies and music.) 
On top of the excitement, the bubbling anxiety of what might happen if Steve overworked himself sat with striking clarity in Eddie’s gut. 
⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻
“Look at his cute yellow sweater vest. Isn’t he adorable?” Eddie watched as Steve argued with Dustin about whether Grease was better than Star Wars. 
Robin rolled her eyes, standing to Eddie’s side. Half the kids were already in the pool so they had both retreated to the kitchen to hopefully sneak the Oreos back on the snack table without Steve seeing. 
“That’s my sweater vest.” She said. 
Eddie nodded, hands clinging to his heart. “And I love you for it dearly, I truly do.” 
“You’re disgustingly into him.” Robin grabbed four capri suns. 
“I’m not the one actively making a wedding planner with him.” Was Eddie’s come back. It was an overwhelmingly thorough wedding planner. He should know, he helped Steve pick out his wedding dress. 
This of course sends Robin off into a rant about the normalization of platonic marriage as she cuts off the tops of the Capri suns with scissors and pours the liquid into a red solo cup. 
From the hallway, they both hear a subtle bump, followed by a heavy thud.
A second later, Dustin yells. 
“Shit, he’s seizing again!” 
Eddie is running out of the kitchen and tripping over Robin before he can even process that he’s knocked her Capri sun abomination to the floor. 
Luckily, Dustin was probably the best person for Steve to seize around. Dustin had taken to wearing a large winter coat when they hung out together so that he could use it to cushion Steve’s head. 
Despite knowing that Steve would be just fine, it was never easy for Eddie to watch his head slam back, arms shaking, eyes rolling back in his skull. 
Everyone in the party was pretty well-trained in how to help Steve through his seizures when they happened. They’ve come a long way from the first time, which was probably the most traumatic seizure Steve had ever had, simply because of how poorly everyone had dealt with it.  
It had been a focal seizure (who knew there were different kinds) and all he had done was stop moving, eyes rolling back in his skull. Everyone had assumed he was getting Vecnaed and Steve had woken up with the entire party aggressively shaking him and yelling, his favorite song blaring in Max’s headphones. Steve’s postictal confusion (Dustin had taught everyone all the proper terms) only made it worse, leading to him having a panic attack, which triggered another seizure. 
All in all, a terrible way to react. Steve had explained to them later that he was not in fact dying, he just had seizures now (since Jonathan, Eddie knew, but Steve hadn’t said it because he didn’t want to make Jonathan feel guilty.) 
Despite the fact that they were all completely okay with helping Steve through his seizures, Steve himself hated it with a passion. 
Eddie had to comfort Steve on multiple occasions because Steve would get so embarrassed that he would start crying and isolate himself, which Eddie didn’t feel comfortable with especially when Steve had just seized. 
For a while, Steve had refused to leave the house after his first seizure in front of the party. He felt such a deep shame from it that Eddie and Robin hadn’t been able to get ahold of him for a week. 
Robin eventually had the bright idea to camp in front of Steve’s front door for three days (with Eddie leaving every once in a while to get provisions) before they were able to get Steve to let them inside. 
Eddie finds Dustin in the living room, Steve shaking on the floor, having a full-blown grand mal seizure on the carpet. 
Dustin’s sweater was already under Steve’s head, but Steve was large and Dustin was obviously having trouble turning Steve on his side. Robin grabs the small stopwatch from Eddie’s pocket and starts timing it. 
Eddie takes over, letting Robin and Dustin move the snack table so Steve couldn’t ram his arms against it. 
He very gently moves Steve to his side, tilting his head to open his airway, feeling the stiff tendons in his neck. 
You weren’t supposed to hold someone down during a seizure, so though it hurt Eddie to do so, he lets Steve thrash around, grabbing pillows from the couch and placing them around him. He wipes drool from Steve’s face more so for Steve’s benefit. 
The sliding glass door laid open and Eddie could see everyone in the pool watching, but the party knew it wasn’t good to overwhelm Steve so they stayed further away. Eventually they would make their way inside to check on him once he was awake and actually able to process their presence in a positive manner. 
“Its okay, Stevie. You’re safe.” Eddie said, siting near Steve’s head. Robin and Dustin took the couch, talking softly to Steve about some board game they wanted to introduce him to. 
It takes about three minutes and twenty seven seconds for Steve’s tremors to die down, his eyes opening. 
The second Eddie feels it’s safe to, he places his hands on Steve’s head. 
“Hey darling, you had a seizure.” He explained. 
Steve squints at him, eyes blurry. Confusion was pretty common after a seizure, so Eddie doesn’t question it when Steve makes a dazed grumbling sound. 
Robin walks into the kitchen to get Steve a bottle of water and some Tylenol. 
“You’re gonna have an insane headache. You hit your head on the way down.” Dustin pipes up, not getting closer. 
“Can you talk?” Eddie whispers. 
Steve clumsily grapples with Eddie’s arm, trying to pull him closer, so Eddie helps Steve sit up and holds him to his chest. 
After a few minutes, Steve opens his mouth a few times, cuddled into Eddie’s side. 
“Who- who’ryou?” He slurs. 
Eddie lifts his eyebrows, tucking Steve’s hair behind his ear. 
“I’m Eddie.” He says. Sometimes Steve wouldn’t be able to remember things immediately after a seizure. It didn’t happen often but it happened enough for him to not be concerned about it. 
“That’s Dustin, and the one bringing you water is Robin.” 
Steve slowly moves his head, wincing, to look around at them. Eddie supports Steve’s head with the sweaty palm of his hand. 
Eventually, Steve turns back to Eddie. 
“My head hurts.” He had a heavy lisp. 
“You can take painkillers when you’re more aware. I don’t want you choking.” Eddie clarified. 
“You are-“ Steve squinted his eyes as he faced Eddie. Steve inched closer, focusing on Eddie’s features. “So pretty.” 
A baffled chuckle leaves Eddie’s lips. 
“Thank you darling.” He says kindly, and then a second later; “Why are you crying?” 
There was one small tear on Steve’s face. Eddie wipes it off. 
“I’m so sad,” Steve sloppily buried his face in Eddie’s chest. Eddie wraps his arms around him tighter. Dustin was snickering on the couch. 
“Why?” 
“Because- I can’t date you, because- I’m straight.” Steve stuttered, acting like this was the worst possible thing in the entire world. 
Now Dustin was full on cackling so hard he had to wrap his arms around his stomach. Robin was loosing it in the corner where she held the water bottle and the painkillers. 
Eddie tried to hold himself together, nodding seriously at Steve. 
“Sweetheart,” Eddie says, “you are gay.” 
“I am?” Steve squeaks, his mood changing in less than a second. “Will you go out with me?” 
Eddie couldn’t contain his smile, ducking his head to hide in his hair. 
Eddie takes a deep breath. 
“I’m your boyfriend.” He informs. 
 It takes Steve a second to process what he’s saying. 
“You are? Holy fuck.” Steve turns his head, like he’s entirely beside himself in shock. The left side of his body wasn’t moving well, so his right arm came to clutch Eddie’s shirt. 
Then Steve winces, makes another grumbling sound before resting his forehead on Eddie’s shoulder. 
In an hour, Steve would drink his water and painkillers, begrudgingly let himself get checked on by the rest of the kids, and have the entire party enthusiastically fight over who gets his leftover pasta. 
Then Eddie would give him a dramatic rendition of Steve asking Eddie out before even remembering who he is, since Steve has no memory of it. Robin will gently tease him about his terrible taste in men, and Eddie will get to successfully cuddle with his boyfriend without a post-seizure meltdown, for once.  
Sources;
https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/books/NBK526004/#_article-28844_s1_
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Postictal_state
https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3175608/
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anterograde_amnesia. 
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Todd%27s_paresis 
https://youtu.be/dGSf3OeZrHY
https://youtu.be/xW7Bi6DoWGk
https://youtu.be/oA1uDzKBRqI
https://youtu.be/7N74EFyEhUA
https://youtu.be/rEyr4ahlj9Y
https://www.epilepsy.com/complications-risks/moods-behavior/stress-mood-and-seizures
https://www.epilepsy.com/what-is-epilepsy/seizure-triggers/over-counter-medications
https://www.cdc.gov/epilepsy/about/first-aid.htm
https://www.peacehealth.org/medical-topics/id/ty7150spec
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bigassmoonchild · 7 months
Text
Tags
Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader
Word Count: 2.6k
Summary: He's gone. He's gone and all he's left you with is this god damned pup, but god forbid you're allowed more than a month of peace. You never wanted to see this.
Content Tags: Mentions of Death, Pregnancy, The 141 Being A Pack, Angst, Hurt/No Comfort, Hurt/Some Comfort, Mentions of Violence, Medical Inaccuracies, Fear, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha! Ghost, No Use of Y/N
A/N: I'm having some problems finding accounts asking to be tagged. Please make sure you've got the right settings! As always, content under the cut and requests are open!
P.S: Keep sending in asks! I'm checking throughout the week!!
Part 1 | Previous, Next | Headcannons, Masterlist
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A knock on your door brought you out of your stupor. You'd been half asleep, having finally been able to get some rest after throwing up half of your dinner from the night before.
It was barely 5, so theoretically no one should really be bothering you. Gaz had your squadron to do some combat situations, and he knew exactly what to do with them. They were especially feisty.
When you'd opened it, you weren't entirely sure what to expect. Maybe Simon? Or Soap, or Price? Maybe Gaz?
Definitely not the officer standing at your door, holding a few items. Neither of you spoke for a few moments, just staring at one another. He didn't seem to expect you, and you were just scared. You felt your heart sinking into your stomach.
He spoke your name to you and you nodded, feeling like you were staring through him. "I'm so sorry," and from there you didn't remember anything. Just a few words, the handing over of the few items of his they recovered before another apology.
You closed the door, staring at the dog tags sitting in your hands. You read his name, written on the dirty tag. When you took it into the bathroom and washed it, you felt the metal warm up like you'd just taken it off of Simon.
Waking up the next morning left you feeling hungover. Head throbbing, mouth dry and just feeling sick overall. You weren't sure of anything over the next few days, moving like you were a puppet being controlled.
There weren't any tears, there wasn't anything. You didn't feel anything. You avoided the pack- his pack. Staying away from the main areas they'd go, you found yourself staying within the medical areas, your office and your room. You ignored everyone outside of your squad.
So when there was a knock on the door, you hadn't thought twice of calling the person in. You and Sadie, one of the two Omegas you were training, had been talking and slowly becoming what you almost considered a friend.
"You can't keep hiding from us," Price said to you and you froze. Your chest seized, eyes shutting harshly. You didn't want to even think. "You've got his dog tags on," he whispered, rounding your desk and standing beside you.
It took a few weeks, but you had eventually cleared Price to walk without assistance. And he was abusing his ability to slowly get back to normal.
A sob tore through your chest and you felt everything hit you. Anger, for Simon doing this to you. Sadness, how you realized all you had left was the pup. You didn't want to believe he was gone, but he was. The tags around your neck proved it.
Price pulled you in close, resting his head atop yours as you wailed. You could feel the tears and snot, maybe drool coating his shirt as you grasped onto him. Hoping that he would be able to fix everything. He was the pack Alpha, he was supposed to know what to do.
Rocking you a little, just slightly side to side, he hummed against you. Allowing you to cry everything out, feeling as you slowly grew limp. The wails turned to sobs, sobs turned to hiccups before it was just shaky breaths. All you could think the entire time was 'he's actually gone'.
Pulling your face away from his chest, he gave you a small smile. "He's only assumed KIA," he whispered and you blinked at him. "We never got a body," he told you. You tugged your head free of him, could feel your eyelashes sticking uncomfortably together.
"He might not be dead?"
"Don't get your hopes up, kid," he gave you a little pat on the head. "Don't allow yourself to wallow in pity, let us take some of the pain off of you. We lost a packmate, just as you lost a mate," he whispered and let himself out.
All you could do was sit in your office, blinking slowly and feeling nothing at all. You didn't think it was possible to feel nothing after losing someone, but the little hope Price had given you felt like nothing at all.
They couldn't recover his dog tags without a body, could they?
As time wore on, and they were slowly losing hope on finding Simon, you eventually broke the news. You'd called the pack into Price's office, feeling it was best to break it there. Somewhere he could control reactions as best as possible.
When Gaz finally entered, closing the door behind him you looked at the three around you. You breathed deeply, completely unsure how to go about any of this.
"I'm pregnant," well, that's how you broke it to them. It wasn't how you were expecting it, but that's how it happened. None of them said anything, they all just stared at you.
Soap was the first to respond, pulling you into him and pressing his head against your abdomen. "Really?" He'd whispered and you nodded, wrapping your arms around him as best you could.
You all stayed quiet, it felt like you were both grieving the loss of Simon but hoping the best for the pup you were going to be responsible for.
And they made sure to help. Price would help you during the nights when you felt the worst. The loneliest. He had claimed to be responsible, 'I'm the pack leader after all'.
Gaz dragged you out of your nest, forcing you to go for walks with him or eat with everyone else in the mess hall. He would come by every so often, just to check up on you or interact with you. 'Givin' you a little bit less monotony, huh?' You enjoyed when he came by, it made you a little less lonely.
Even with everything that everyone did, Soap seemed to grow the closest with you. He'd insisted on joining you when you'd gone to the doctor to be able to get vitamins and other medications. He insisted on making sure you didn't have to be alone in the mornings after Price had left to deal with Captain stuff, helping you through the sickness.
You just wanted Simon. As much as you appreciated everything they were doing, they weren't Simon. You had been able to get into his room one night, after the fourth week of him being missing. It took you this long before you could get yourself to enter his room.
When you did, you had to choke back tears. His scent wafted over you, just slightly becoming stale but still there. His bed was made, pristine as ever, and you found yourself building a nest slowly.
In his closet, you'd buried yourself in layers of his blankets and clothes. Shirts and hoodies, some left unwashed being the closest you could get to his fresh scent.
All you wanted was to be alone. For once, you didn't want anyone near you, you didn't want to talk to anyone. Being snappier to people seemed like the way to get them to leave you alone. Stay colder with people.
No different than Simon, you figured. Not too much different than how he would perform, if it had been you. How similar to him were you becoming? Pushing people away, going through shit on your own? Not talking?
So you filled your time with work. You didn't give yourself much time to sleep, barely enough time to eat and take care of yourself. You didn't want to think, and you didn't allow Gaz to pull you away. No matter how hard he tried.
A few days latter, you'd been working on helping one of the recruits patch up a simple wound in the medical center. Your squad had finally graduated to helping there, and so you'd been using them to help. When you'd cleaned your hands of the blood that caught on them, you saw Price standing by the front desk.
Venturing over to him, checking in with some of your squad to make sure they were alright, you found him looking through papers. Files. You recognized one of the names, Sadie.
"What's that?"
"Is there anyone you recommend for a reconnaissance mission, Doc?"
Once more, you were sitting on the chopper. Soap had to sit this out, as his stitches still hadn't quite healed up from the emergency surgery. So there was one more spot open for you to join, and you had opted for Prices choice of your squad.
Sadie 'Trip' Thomason. She had been lovingly given the callsign Trip because of her first attempt at running a course. She ate complete shit, and continued to somehow trip every single course. Even ones that were on level ground.
You loved the kid, but she was a klutz. So you joined on the mission, nor wanting her to be alone for her first one. She wasn't much different from you.
As the chopper landed, you were surprised by the fact you weren't taking fire. They had decided to use a shit ton of people for this mission, so whoever they were rescuing was important. Yourself, Trip, and another squad leader and one of their people had joined.
Enough medics to perform a surgery.
You and Trip stayed behind, prepping an area for emergency medical attention. It was mostly because you were pregnant, but you were one of the most skilled medics they'd had.
"Hey Doc, you wanna know something?" Gaz called through the coms. You hummed in response, moving quickly through the chopper. "My boyfriend left me because I was too mysterious. Or did he?" You snorted at that, feeling your chest tighten just a little.
You knew of Simons whole dark and dad joke schtick. You never really got to hear it, but he sometimes said them to you. During lunches and dinners with you. Before everything fucked up.
"Did the lieutenant rub off on you, Gaz?" You'd asked back and he made a little jab at you, snickering about how dirty it sounded. God, you'd hit him if you could.
Trip had nudged you, wiggling her eyebrows at you at that.
"You and the lieutenant have something going on, then?" You rolled your eyes, trying to bite back the tears that were trying to force themselves from your eyes.
Looking over at her, you gave a little smile. "He's my mate," she gave a little gasp, nudging you even more. You shook your head. "He's assumed KIA, though," you whispered, glancing out to the dark tree line. You were wondering who it was that took this much manpower to bring home.
There wasn't a shot in hell you were going to get your hopes up and think it was Simon. No chance. In the time you'd been thinking, Trip had finished off prepping for quick medical attention and you'd come back to.
You started to prep for possible surgery when gunshots began echoing around you. "Prep the chopper for liftoff!" Gaz shouted through the coms and you checked the pilot to make sure he'd heard but watched as he began pressing buttons.
The ground quaked under you as it began preparing to lift, your supplies starting to shake and nearly fly off. Trip fell trying to save items and you had to shout at her to leave them over the chopper blades.
"But we need them!" You shook your head, gesturing around you.
"We're about to take off, we have enough backup supplies to replace them! It'll take too long to collect them, they're not too sanitary anymore!" You shouted back, grabbing her vest and strapping her in to the helicopter. "Do not fall!" You shouted, tugging on the rope keeping her set.
She nodded and began to try and reset the area, only bringing out the items that could be held down or were heavy enough to hold themselves down. Glancing out, you could see figured running towards the chopper, one thrashing around.
"We've got a feral Alpha, Doc! We need to sedate him!" You watched as four people dragged the Alpha closer, hear the snarls he was letting out. Leather. Tobacco, heavy musk and sweat. Your heart started pounding harder and harder, vision tunneling.
Shaking your head, you stumbled back into the chopper. "You can't sedate a feral Alpha," you whispered into the coms, watching as the man you called your Mate tried to fight off the men dragging him onto the chopper.
They'd found rope and tied his arms together. All you could do was stare, see the man you loved brought down into ferality. It was different than a feral rut, the amount of androstenone filling him was lethal. His body was in a state of fight or flight, so there was no chance it could turn into a rut.
He was fighting.
With one step forward he snarled at you, eyes blown black from his pupils. His scent was different, just barely, but you couldn't work on him in this condition. You could feel yourself panicking, staring at Simon but not quite Simon. Gaz came around, tugging you away from the man lying tied on the floor of the chopper.
"Talk me through it," he whispered. "Why's he feral?" You blinked up at Gaz, swallowing as your mind reeled.
Looking to the side, you could see Trip sneaking glances at you. "Androstenone," you whispered. "He's got too much of it in him, but he's in fight or flight so instead of being in a feral rut, he's just feral," you whispered.
"And how do we help him?"
"I don't know," you whispered.
Back on base, Price had found you. You didn't even want to look at him, not with how he'd lied about what the mission was. It wasn't just a reconnaissance mission, you were quite literally sent to rescue your mate.
He was put in a high secure containment cell. He was literally knocked out to be checked out, a few different medics and highly esteemed surgeons being called in to do emergency surgeries. Emergency blood transfusions. It seemed like everyone on base was trying to help, offering their blood to the man.
All you could do was sit in his room, playing with the dog tags that you'd put around your neck some months ago. Between the time they'd rescued Simon from the time your test had been, it was around two months.
God, you were two months along with his pup and he didn't even know it. Would he recognize you? Your scent? Or had it changed with the new hormones that had flooded your body.
You were terrified, wanting nothing more than to have Simon in your nest, hold him close and never let him leave again. But that's not how the real world worked and you had to get back to work.
The next few days you were extremely distracted. "I asked for more pain meds," one of the patients told you.
"No, you didn't," you said and they looked at you lost. You blinked slowly, trying to process what they'd actually said. Can I get more pain meds? "Sorry," you whispered and turned around, calling for one of your trainees and having them give him for pain meds.
It continued like that for a while. You answered phone calls from people just asking some basic questions about whether they should or should not come in to the center for. Sometimes you'd hung up on people instead of putting them on hold, sometimes you just said words that combined and had to repeat yourself three times.
There was a sudden influx of people for a short while, and each of them had been clawed or bitten by something. Someone?
It took a little while, but Price had eventually found you. "Lot of people being attacked, huh?" You blinked at him.
"What's happening?"
"They're trying to figure out how to bring Simon out of the feral mindset he's in," he whispered, looking away. You looked at him, not being able to say anything. "We need your help,"
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snakebites-and-ink · 3 months
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Whumpuary #11: Blood / "Just get it over with" / Memories + #13: Left to die / Barely Conscious / "I'm Fine"
CW: surgery (consensual and non-graphic), referenced past abuse
Whumpee was going to have to have surgery. Caretaker and the doctors had talked with them about it. All the violence they’d received from Whumper had taken its toll on their body, and they needed an operation to make sure it would all heal right if they didn’t want to risk lifelong impacts.
The doctors said the treatment wouldn’t be too extreme. Whumpee was still scared, though. They didn’t know how to really talk about their fear, though, because it wasn’t rational. They knew Caretaker would look out for them and the doctors would only act in Whumpee’s best interest. Still, they were scared of being so helpless. Being stuck in place while the doctor worked. Being cut again. And they were scared that if they were put to sleep, they would wake up in Whumper’s clutches to find that this had all been a dream.
Some of those worries were unavoidable. But some could be worked around. Whumpee didn’t have to be knocked out for this. The doctors said they didn’t have to have general anaesthesia, and could use a less extreme form of sedation coupled with local anaesthesia. They wouldn’t have to be as powerless, because they would still be awake and somewhat aware of what was going on. They wouldn’t be forced into unconsciousness.
They’d expected judgement or condescension when they finally voiced their worries, but Caretaker just looked sympathetic and said that it was understandable with all Whumpee had gone through. And the doctors were very clear that they’d only do what Whumpee consented to. Whumpee didn’t know how to say how much the simple fact that people cared what they wanted meant to them.
When the day of their appointment came, Whumpee had a pit of dread in their stomach, but at least they also felt a little hopeful. If everything went well, this would bring them one step farther in recovering from everything Whumper had done to them.
Whumpee lay down on the bed. “You ready?” Caretaker asked softly.
Whumpee grimaced and clenched their eyes shut. “Just get it over with.”
Caretaker gave them a sad, compassionate look, but signalled the doctors to start. They administered the anaesthesia and started prepping Whumpee.
Whumpee reached out and took Caretaker’s hand, partially for the support, partially to reassure themself that Caretaker was still with them.
It didn’t take long for the sedation to kick in. Whumpee became drowsy and sluggish. Their eyelids lowered partway.
Whumpee’s grip weakened, but Caretaker kept holding on to their hand. “I’ve got you,” they whispered. “You’re going to be okay.”
Whumpee couldn’t move. They could barely feel anything. They focused on the reassuring presence of Caretaker next to them. Everything else seemed far away as the sedation pulled them to a state that wasn’t quite sleep and covered their anxieties with a blanket of artificial calm.
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fanfic-obsessed · 2 years
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Removed
This one will wind to some dark places, and I am not sure it will get better yet. Also Jango Fett is not such a good person in this. Frankly, neither is Qui Gon Jinn.
We start on Melida/Daan. Obi Wan has been with them for nearly a year and The Young are winning, pushing for their peace. The Elders are approached by the Sith (Plagius or Sidious, it matters little) with an offer to pay to be allowed to take The Young. The Elders agree and the Young, Obi Wan included, are removed from the planet. For their trouble, the Elder are paid with enough weaponry that they wipe the planet of any life within five years.  Many of the children have a mild force sensitivity that seems to behave strangely around Obi Wan.
Most are used for experiments, including Obi Wan. Some are used to further Mauls training in the dark side of the force. Maul…hates these pitiful souls less than he does most.  He still does every horrible, vile thing that his Master requires but does not go out of his way to cause pain and offers the compassion of a quick death to the ones he can. He even speaks to the subject in between experiments and feels something like a kinship with them.  
For ten years Obi Wan and the rest of the Young are experimented on and tortured in every manner imaginable. Most have died in agony and the ones that live consider the dead the lucky ones. To the fascination of the Sith Masters not a single one of the force sensitive children have reached for the dark. It is almost like they are incapable of it. 
When it comes time for Jango Fett to become the template for the clones, he is also given Obi Wan Kenobi as stress relief. As this Jango has no want for sex, this means being an outlet for his anger, a punching bag. At Jango Fett’s insistence force suppressing cuffs and a force suppressing collar are sealed (welded) onto Obi Wan. This leaves him entirely unable to actively use the Force but Sith experimentation has left a passive ability to heal from almost anything. In this situation this is not actually a positive.  (Another side effect no one can figure out, he stayed looking 16 until Cody's batch reached that age, then proceeded to age along with them). At the time that Obi Wan was gifted to Jango Fett, 5 of The Young, other than Obi Wan, still live.  He is pulled from them, knowing that he will never be allowed to ask after them. 
Jango Fett is only given a single qualifier as to what he can use Obi Wan for: If he kills Obi Wan, they will not replace him.
On Kamino he is an anachronism.  When not acting as Jango Fett’s punching bag he drifts through the halls, speaking rarely to the non clones.  Several of the trainers watch him with a strange twist of guilt on their faces. They watch the bruises that are so consistent in size and shape that it looks like a patch of purple, black, and green moving across his skin over time. They take in the perennially blistered and infected skin around the collar and cuffs.  They see this and say nothing. 
For the clones it is both different and the same. They grow up knowing that this Obi Wan was no more free than they were. No matter the circumstances of his birth, he was a brother. To be protected when they could.  He held their secrets, their fears. He was the primary source of compassion in their lives. He protects them when he can and they never begrudge the times where he can’t (When he finds out about Priest’s fight club, he vanishes into Jango Fett’s apartment. No one knows what was said or done but when they emerge, Janog Fett is willing to exert himself to end the Fight Club and Priest’s other abuses. Obi Wan limps behind him with 20 meticulously broken bones in his right foot).
In this universe, as a last act of pettiness, Qui Gon Jinn takes Bruck Chun as a padawan a year after he leaves Obi Wan on Melida/Daan. His attention inadvertently prevented Xanatos from getting into Brucks head. They are a middling pair. Both are just a touch too arrogant to truly work well with others and they do tend to echo each other's worst traits but it is subtle enough that Bruck makes it successfully to knighthood a year before the Naboo crisis.  Jinn still finds Anakin on Tatooine, still wins his freedom and brings him back to the temple.  Though he had been unaccompanied at the start of the mission, his report means that three other knights ended up on Naboo with him. With this extra manpower Darth Maul is taken alive, to be locked in a cell in the Jedi temple.  Qui Gon Jinn lives to take on Anakin’s training. 
This Anakin is not as confident in his abilities. No matter what he does, he always gets the sense that Jinn expected better. By the same token Jinn is not too young and grieving, not overwhelmed with sudden responsibility. Palpatine cannot get the same hold he had on Anakin in another life. 
It is Anakin that finds Kamino in this life. Jinn clocked his crush on Padme and decided he did not want them alone together (Less chance of the Chosen One deciding to leave).   The clones, believing that Obi Wan had been given to Jango Fett by the Jedi (Something that Obi Wan can’t quite dispute), hide him from Anakin. After Fett’s death, they feared that Obi Wan would be taken away.  So they decide to hide him in the 212th with Cody. 
The two had been inseparable for years now, soulmates though neither thinks the term (In my head this is a queerplatonic relationship, in part due to the trauma they both have undergone). In fact, in this world Cody’s scar is deliberate, something that he (along with Fox and Ponds) devised to ensure that no matter how disoriented or afraid, Obi Wan would never see Cody as Jango Fett (His ability to tell the clones apart is not based in the Force, due to the cuffs. That does not stop Obi Wan from being able to tell each clone apart, no matter what).  
And so to the 212th, under General Qui Gon Jinn and his Padawan Commander Anakin Skywalker, goes a trooper named Shield (for Obi Wan has always been their shield).  The clones do not, can not, trust the Jedi.  They almost never remove their helmets in this world, save for when they were safely in the barracks so that Shield could move around freely.  The Jedi could not sense him, due to the force suppressing cuffs and collars. 
If we were to go with the cliches, Obi Wan would be revealed by accident in the most dramatic way possible. 
This is not what happened. The clones know that Obi Wan hiding as Shield is not a long term solution and the medics would really like permission to remove, along with help removing, the Force suppressors.  
8 months into the war, Plo Koon earns the full trust of the clones. With Obi Wan’s permission Wolffe approaches his general to tell him and abbreviated version of what was going on (a non clone who was living as a trooper, he had been on Kamino as Jango Fett’s punching bag, they want him to become an official member of the GAR so that he doesn’t need to hide any more).
Jedi Master Plo Koon is faintly horrified by even the vague details and agrees to meet with trooper Shield. When he asks about having Qui Gon at the meeting, Wolffe twitches. All the clones know who General Jinn is to Obi Wan, so they trust him even less than most Jedi. Jinn is not cruel to the Clones, but he treats them as he does most people he interacts with (Jinn cares little for the practicalities of their lives, so long as they continue to act in the way he expects. Thus he will call them by a preferred name if they request it but never asks for their names).  The next time the battalions meet, Cody and Shield meet privately with Wolffe and Plo Koon. 
Shield removes his helmet; gaunt faced, red haired, and clean shaven (Having never grown a beard due to some mix of injuries and the Sith experiments). Plo thinks he looks familiar and Obi Wan bows respectfully. Plo gently begins to ask for information.  Obi wan gives his name, but it still takes Plo a number of minutes to realize who he is talking to (In his defense it had been more than 20 years and Obi Wan is not the only youngling that has decided to leave the Order). Even after Plo realizes who Obi Wan is, they talk at cross purposes for several minutes. Plo Koon, of course, was under the impression that Obi Wan left the order to be with a girl two decades before. Obi wan believes he was rightfully abandoned for endangering Master Tahl, and cannot quite disbelieve the idea that it was the Jedi, or some Jedi, that gave him to Jango Fett.
As soon as Plo begins to gently question how Obi Wan ended up where he was, it became clear to the Kel Dor that information that was given to the High council twenty years before was at best wrong, at worst an outright lie.  He is horrified to see the mass of scar tissue and metal on Obi Wan’s neck and wrists and vows to help get it removed (Due to the burns and infection from when it was welded on and Obi Wan’s extraordinary ability to heal, flesh had grown over the edges of the metal), which would need to be done by the Temple Healers. He is heartbroken to realize what the clones, and Obi Wan, believe about how Obi Wan ended up on Kamino.  At the end he asks Obi Wan what he wants, going forward.
Obi Wan thinks for a moment, “To stay with Cody or, barring that, to stay with the clones in general. If possible, find out how the rest of The Young died and maybe be able to give them some kind of burial. If their remains can be found, that is.”  
After the campaign, Plo conspires to have the 212th and the 104th recalled back to Coruscant. There he could have Obi Wan meet with the council in person. Coincidentally Bruck Chun, with his commander Alpha-17, are also on Coruscant. Knowing that having troopers appear before the council without their associated Jedi would raise many eyebrows, Plo has Qui Gon Jinn, Anakin Skywalker, and Bruck Chun called to the Council with order to bring Commander Cody, Commander Alpha-17 (since Obi had indicated having Alpha there would make him feel better), and trooper Shield with them. Wolffe waits with them while Plo briefs the Council. The Jedi in the waiting room are curious and confused as to why this one specific trooper (Shield/Obi Wan) has been called in and why all of the present clones seem to be hovering protectively. 
They are called into the Council Chamber. Plo has told them very little (What Wolffe had told him plus that the non clone in question had been temple raised and was currently in Force Suppressing cuffs). In part he wants to see if the others will come to the same conclusions that he did. In part because while he doesn’t believe that any Jedi would have done what the clones think they did, he needs to be sure (and seeing their reaction to Obi Wan and his story first hand was the only way he could be). 
When Shield removes his helmet, the only person who recognizes him immediately is Bruck Chun, who blurts out “Oafy-Wan?” and then is horribly embarrassed about it (At 13 he had been a bully, but he had grown into a decent adult, particularly since he was fighting a war, and is embarrassed that his first thought when seeing the other man was the insulting nickname from two decades before). The clones are not impressed with Bruck Chuns reaction (Alpha is growling outright at his general). Before Bruck could apologize, Yoda said Obi Wan’s name. 
Obi Wan nods agreeably and says that is a name he has been called.  A question about the Force suppressing cuffs and collar (still covered by his blacks), has Obi Wan answering “Jango Fett insisted that I be unable to use the Force when I was given to him.” (Whenever he speaks of Jango, it is alway ‘Jango Fett’). It also becomes clear to the high council, Bruck Chun, and Anakin (though the latter has no idea of the backstory) very quickly that Qui Gon Jinn had lied to the council about how and why Obi Wan left the Order.
Every question that is asked of him seems to have a horrifying answer. When asked about The Young, he explains about the group of children trying to stop a war (the youngest was 5, the oldest 14 when he joined). The High Council grows very quiet as he speaks, this was not what they were told. Qui Gon Jinn shifts a little as a twenty year old lie is exposed, particularly as he is given a look from various members of the council that say they will be discussing this, soon. Mace asks why Obi Wan is so sure the Young are dead (as finding out how they died is one of the horrifically few things that Obi Wan is asking for). Obi Wan is silent for a moment then responds that he doesn’t for sure, but it has been 10 years and he hopes that the rest of the Young had found something like peace and that death was the most realistic way of that happening. He is asked why Obi Wan never tried to contact the Order during his year on Melida/Daan. He clones bristles at even the suggestion that their Shield was in any way responsible. 
Obi Wan gave a semi confused look and said “My comm unit, like my lightsaber, belonged to the Jedi Order. How would I have done that?”
 This was news to most of the Jedi present (Neither the comm or the light saber should have been taken). With the exception of Qui Gon Jinn (who admits that he should not have lied to the council but doesn’t think he did anything else wrong), Obi Wan (who has a skewed vision of how he should be treated), and the clones (who know this entire story and have moved onto anger) the entire room is abjectly horrified to realize that Jinn had abandoned Obi Wan in a war zone, weaponless, and with no way to call for help (Plo Koon in particular is halfway to breaking out the adoption paperwork for the entire GAR most of the time anyway, right now he is practically vibrating with the need to get them all away from a war). 
 Mace Windu brings the room back to order. He declares that the council needs to speak with Master Jinn (and the way that he said Qui Gon’s name indicated that the Master in the title might be temporary).  He asks Bruck and Anakin to escort the clones (with Obi Wan) to the healers so they could begin to get the cuffs and collar off.  It is up to Obi Wan if he wants to wear his helmet until he reaches the healing hall or not. The council could not guarantee out of hand that Obi Wan would be allowed to stay with Cody, but they would do everything in their power to make sure it happened. 
Just before they leave, Obi Wan bites his lip and visibly struggles with something he wants to say. When prompted he explains that he has (over the course of his time on Kamino) seen virtually every step in the growth and decanting process for the clones. Every step except one, where he believes that something is embedded in the brains of each clone. He doesn’t know what it is or what it does, but he asks that the Jedi Council investigate since he is afraid it is something that will hurt the clones. 
The walk to the healers was tense. Bruck and Anakin were both trying to silently work through what had just happened. It is a bit sad that neither are surprised at Jinn's actions. Vokara Che and Bant Eerin are the ones that meet them. Bant is angry with Obi Wan (because from her perspective he just left 20 years ago and never contacted her or their other friends again) but Bruck of all people stop her from saying anything hurtful by telling her there is more to it than she realizes.  
Once they have all piled into a private room, Healer Che asks Obi Wan to take off his armor (No there was no good reason that the various hangers on were allowed to be there, they just kind of kept following and no one said anything about it). Obi Wan requests that the head medic for the 212th be called down, as he has been the most involved with treating his injuries and so would be able to answer questions better.  Cody helps Obi Wan remove his armor (The cuffs affect the way that his wrists bend, making it harder to put on or remove certain pieces of the armor). 
When his top comes off, all movement in the room ceases.  The skin of his torso is a patchwork of green and brown (the bruising he received over the past 10 years was so regular and deep that even 8 months after Jango Fett died they were still healing. The only reason that he did not have actual nerve damage was his healing abilities).  While the Jedi in the room can barely react under the horror of what they were seeing, Alpha looks at the patchwork, pleased. He comments that it all looks to be healing well. 
Under the bruises were a map of scars, telling a horrifying tale.  The worst of which sat on each wrist and the base of his throat, metal digging into flesh and embedded in thick uneven scaring (A note on Obi Wan’s healing, as long as he lives he will heal. Things that should have become debilitating, life changing injuries heal into simple scars. Things that should have killed him because of infection do not. It does not speed up his healing, and though it takes much more he still bears scars).
When he is asked he tells them that the metal cuffs had been welded onto him. And yes he felt every minute of the metal being superheated.  Obi Wan would prefer to remain awake when the metal is removed (no they would not have to worry about him flinching because “Jango Fett did not like it when I flinched from the pain he wanted to inflict”). By the time he has won that argument, the 212th's head medic, Hypo, has arrived. 
The process of removing each metal band takes 3 Jedi healers working in tandem and hours of painstaking, deeply disturbing work.  They save the collar for last. As the last piece of metal was pulled from his flesh, Obi Wan inhaled sharply. 
“Three of the Young are still alive” he breathes, even as he doesn’t move.
Cody, who had been sitting carefully with Obi Wan, grips his hand. “Then we will help you find your family.” He promises. 
In a Cell in the lower levels of the Temple, Darth Maul perks up as he feels a familiar Force Presence. He calls attention to a guard and demands to see Obi Wan Kenobi. The guards do not know who this is but pass along his request to the high council, who are a bit confused.
I am not sure where exactly it would go from here.  I would kind of want to see the 212th being handed over to Obi Wan, though I am not sure how it would be justified. I figure that the first time that Obi Wan meets the Chancellor he has a bad reaction (Due to the Chancellor being one of the people that had experimented on them) but is able to hide it, and passes along his suspicions. They do eventually find the three other surviving Young (Nield, Cerasi, Roenni) as well as children that they (and various other members of the Young over time) had been forced to have, there was even a child who had been fathered by Obi Wan (Who does not remember this and is deeply unhappy with those facts) who have all also been experimented on.  
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whumpster-dumpster · 1 year
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I feel so betrayed by movies/shows/fics that told me shoulder injuries are not a big deal 😭 THEY ARE A BIG DEAL OH MY GOD 😭 I was gonna write something where whumpee has a shoulder injury so I started looking them up and there's.... so much.
Right??? They're like "Oh, we need a place they can get shot/stabbed/whatever that's not center mass! Surely the shoulder can just be brushed off as a throwaway thing!" Wrong. Very incorrect.
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How did I never realize the untapped potential of having two parents in the medical field who can help with body and medical stuff in writing.
What’s a better source for figuring out what dangerous and deadly vitals look like then someone whose seen people die almost once a week.
Had a lovely conversation on how deep you’d have to bite someone and where in order to make someone bleed out.
And another one talking about the “practicality” of a mating bite and the best place to put one so that it’s visible while also leaving a scar.
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kuroneko1815 · 10 months
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Spoilers for Non-linearly linear love story series
Aka the Time Travelling Prince series. This was something I’ve always wanted to do for one of my fics, the plot that is. This is the rough first draft!
Penelope fell pregnant early on in their marriage, there was no doubting Callisto’s virility. The young Imperial couple were delighted with the news of their impending parenthood, the two of them immediately set about transforming Callisto’s former palace.
However, problems began to arise as the pregnancy continued. Penelope had horrible morning sickness which hadn’t caused alarm at first but as the days passed and she grew noticeably thinner, it left everyone feeling ill at ease. Callisto who knew about the future, about Judith and Roxanne wanted to be confident but he couldn’t. Not in the face of his beloved wife’s suffering.
It all came to a head when the Empress collapsed and the Doctor had told him that the prognosis wasn’t good. The years spent under the abusive care of the Eckarts had left her weak and her health fragile. Callisto spent that day locked in their room, crying as he prayed for a miracle. All the years he’d waited to meet her, the future he’d lived through in his time jumps, all of it was slipping away in that moment.
When the Duke of Eckart had heard about Penelope’s condition, he and Reynold had arrived in order to see her and reassure themselves that she would be fine but they were denied entry. The Emperor refused to let these people who claimed to be her family see her, they who had abused and mistreated his wife, who had turned a blind eye as she was fed spoiled food or sentenced to house arrest within her room without food and water for days, they had caused this.
Cedric dealt with the Ducal family as politely as he could, heading them off because he knew the Emperor would no doubt do something drastic if he was faced with his in-laws while the Empress was in such a state.
In the weeks that passed, Callisto rarely left his wife’s side, tending to her while he did his paperwork at her bedside. Only appearing in court when necessary and completely ignoring the Duke and his inquiries as to his daughter’s health. Penelope slipped in and out of consciousness, when she was awake, the Emperor would immediately rush to her side, no matter what he was doing at the time.
Callisto feared that he would lose Penelope. And as she grew weaker by the day, his fears grew more until the day she gave birth. There was a moment when Penelope’s heart stopped, her breath still, they managed to restore her breathing but it did nothing to stop her seizure. Callisto stood to the side, frozen in fear as he held Judith in his arms. His first friend and eldest daughter wailed loudly but even as he rocked her, tears in his eyes, his eyes remained on the crisis happening right in front of him.
The Baroness who had been present, brought a chair over for him and led him to sit on the chair and offered to take Judith but he declined, holding her tight, wanting something to anchor him to the reality of the present and give him hope that things would turn out okay, that the future wasn’t some dream he’d had but the reality of the life they had yet to live.
When Penelope was finally brought to a stable condition, the Doctors cautioned him that it would take awhile before she would be recovered and that she should be kept calm and relaxed. They were also unsure when Penelope would wake up (if she even would).
“Your Majesty,” The Baroness called out softly, breaking him from his stupor and inner conflict.
Callisto turned to her, wordlessly, his arms were still full of the newborn in his hands. He’d never seen Judy this small before.
“We need to look for a wet nurse for the Crown Princess.”
He froze. “Penelope wants to nurse her.”
The Baroness smiled sadly. “The Empress isn’t in a state to nurse the Princess.” Her voice gentle. “We can’t let the Princess starve. When she awakens, the Empress will be able to nurse her then.”
He stared at his daughter and then at his wife. Penelope had begged him weeks ago to choose their daughter should it come down to it but he had pushed it away, redirected the flow of conversation because he refused to even think it… but now… Judy needed to be fed. “Find someone quickly.”
A wet nurse was procured within the hour. Cedric and the Baroness had predicted that something like this would happen and so they had prepared for it.
-
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The Duke and Reynold Eckart arrived once more and found themselves to still be barred entry. When they persisted, the Emperor allowed them in but he had the little Princess taken away first.
He showed them Penelope and her condition. Threw the cruelest of words and accusations. “She’s like this because of what she suffered under your care.” He spat out bitterly. “My darling wife, everything she went through while living with you, everything you missed or pretended not to see.”
He showed them the consequences of their actions and the Ducal family left without having seen the Imperial Princess. Their hearts heavy with guilt.
-
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Penelope awoke a week later. She was happy to finally greet her daughter and she weakly apologized to her husband for the worry and anguish she’d no doubt caused.
When Penelope realized she couldn’t nurse her daughter, at least, not for the moment, she burst into tears, her hormones wreaking havoc as she felt like she was a failure to not have been there for the first days of her baby’s life.
Callisto drew her into his arms and soothed her. “It’s alright love, you aren’t a failure.” He whispered. “These were circumstances beyond your control.”
When she kept crying, Callisto tried again. “You just need to get better before you can nurse her. And I promise you, you’ll be a good mother because you love her so much and want only what’s best for her. So just focus on healing, alright?”
She nodded and let herself relax in his arms. Watching the baby sleep from the bassinet that Callisto had placed on their bed.
It’s still a toss up whether this would be for the next fic in the series since I don’t know if it’ll be a one shot or a chapter by chapter fic.
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