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leiawritesstories · 9 months

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Ahaha, I have another because I’m greedy 🙈 But this prompt for Rowaelin, please??:

I put you down as my emergency contact because I don’t know anyone else in the city, and we literally only met in passing, please forgive me but I am stuck at the ER and they won’t let me leave without you.

Thank you!

hehehehe okay so both you and @tomtenadia asked for this one and I really really hope this delivers 😈😁🥰

500 followers celebration prompt fills

Word count: 2.2k oops

Warnings: some angst and hurt BUT ONLY A LITTLE BIT I PROMISE and it's followed by so much comfort

Enjoy!!

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

Aelin blinked back into reality and found herself in a hospital bed, her body covered in a cotton gown, aches and dulled pains creeping back into her consciousness as her head cleared. She shifted and found her left arm in a sling, immobilized. She shook her head gently, trying to bring up the memories of just how the hell she'd ended up in the emergency room instead of back at her hotel.

"Good to see you awake," a woman's voice said from her right. Aelin turned her head to find a nurse, about her own age, clad in the same blue scrubs as the other staff. "You've been asleep for a solid few hours, probably thanks to the medication."

"Wh-what happened?" Aelin croaked.

The nurse pressed her lips together. "Do you remember a car accident?"

Oh.

Just like that, the memories flooded back. Aelin had been sitting in the back of a taxi, heading from a coffee shop where she'd been at a casual post-session meeting back to her hotel in downtown Doranelle. As the taxi had driven through an intersection, a driver had run the red light in the opposite direction and hit the rear side of the taxi. Her memories got a little fuzzy after that, mostly just snippets of shock, confusion, flashing lights and sirens, and a vague recollection of being loaded into an ambulance.

"You remember?" the nurse asked. Aelin nodded. "Good. That's a good sign that you likely don't have a concussion." She scratched a few notes onto her clipboard. "Now that you're awake, we can finish discharging you. You're stable, so we won't need you to stay here."

"So I can go home?" Aelin signed the papers the nurse handed her.

"No."

"What do you mean, I can't go home?" Still a little out of it from the medication they'd given her, Aelin blinked at the ER nurse. "You just told me I don't need to stay."

"Let me clarify, then," the nurse replied. "You've been cleared to go home, but you have not been cleared to go home alone. You'll need someone to take you--and no, a taxi or an Uber doesn't count." A hint of a smile curled the corner of her lips at Aelin's disgruntled frown. "It's for your safety, Miss Galathynius. We don't want to see our ER patients back here within a few hours because they tried to do something they shouldn't have done."

Aelin sighed. "All right. You can call my emergency contact." She leaned back into the hospital bed. "I'd ask you to call my parents, but they live over a thousand miles away, so that isn't possible."

"As long as you have an emergency contact on file, that will be fine." The nurse placed Aelin's normal clothes in a small pile on the chair next to the bed. "I'll be back in a few minutes to let you know who's coming for you."

"Thanks." Aelin managed a half smile before tilting her head back and groaning. Gods. Of all the days and times to wind up in the ER, it had to be now, during her work trip to Doranelle. At least their healthcare system was well-funded and well-run; the staff who she vaguely remembered tending to her when she came in were polite, professional, and expertly trained. Muffling a grunt, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, gripped the handrail, and stood up slowly, careful not to put too much weight on her legs at once. Shakily, she managed to stand up and reach for her clothes.

There, she got stuck. She couldn't get out of her hospital gown alone because the damn thing was tied in the back and her damn arm was in a sling to immobilize her injured shoulder.

She'd just screamed a string of foul curses into the pillow when there was a knock on the door and the nurse reappeared. "Good news, Miss Galathynius! A Mr. Rowan Whitethorn is on his way to pick you up."

Ah, shit. The thought of Rowan Whitethorn seeing her like this was almost enough to make her wish she'd been kept at the hospital.

"All right," was what she told the nurse. "I hope he's bringing food, because I am bloody hungry."

The nurse laughed. "I'm sure he'll be able to get you all the food you want once you're out of here." She handed Aelin a small paper bag. "There is a small quantity of pain medicine in here. I'd recommend taking it once or twice a day, depending on how severe your pain is, for the next four to seven days. You can take over-the-counter pain medications as well. After seven days, stop taking the prescription medication. If there's any left, you can bring it to any pharmacy here and they'll discard it."

Aelin nodded along. "Okay. Thank you." She flashed a soft smile at the nurse, who'd been nothing but kind to her.

"Of course." The nurse offered her a small smile in return and left the room.

Aelin considered whether or not it would be worth attempting to get into her normal clothes before Rowan got there and decided that it wasn't. If he had to walk her out of the hospital still wearing the godsdamned gown, then he would. Damn shoulder.

As if her thoughts had summoned him, Rowan Whitethorn pushed open the door and burst into the hospital room. His crisply pressed suit was disheveled, his tie loose around his neck, his collar undone, and his eyes were wild, almost panicky, as he crossed the room in two long strides and cupped Aelin's face in his hands.

"What the hell?!" She pulled away from him, hissing at the sharp twinge of pain caused by the sudden movement.

He stepped back, hands up. "You what the hell? Give me a fucking heart attack, why don't you, Galathynius?"

She rolled her eyes. "You barely even know me, Whitethorn. Shut it with the heart attack nonsense."

"No." He folded his arms across his chest and scowled. "Why the hell am I your emergency contact?"

"Because I'm a thousand miles from home, I don't live here, and you're the only person at this fucking seminar that's bothered to learn my name." The small rant spilled out of Aelin before she could stop it. "I needed to have someone on file, and your stupid face is the first name I thought of. You're lucky I had your business card, or I'd be stuck here until I convinced the nurse that I could Uber back to my hotel without dying."

Rowan's cranky expression morphed into mild shock, then concern. "So you weren't going to explain why in all hell your arm is in a sling and there's bruises all over you?"

"They're not all over me," she huffed. "There's some minor bruising on my clavicles, arms, and left cheek. And anyone who asks why I'm wearing a sling deserves to be told to shut the fuck up."

"Fair enough," he admitted. "Fine. I'll drive you back to your hotel." He offered one hand.

She held up her good hand. "Not so fast, Mr. Business. I need to change into my own clothes." She frowned. "But with this bloody sling, I can't get the gown untied."

To her immense shock, a blush spread up his angled cheekbones. "Um...should I call the nurse?"

"This is an ER, Whitethorn, not the regular hospital ward," she deadpanned. "I've been discharged, so as far as they're concerned, I'm no longer their patient. You can help me."

His blush deepened. "I..." He cleared his throat, schooling his face back into its usual impassive mask. "Fine. Tell me what you need help with."

She turned, presenting her back. "Untie the gown, please."

He mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like "she's trying to kill me" and carefully untied the gown, keeping his hands as far from her skin as possible. Which wasn't very far, since he was literally undressing her.

Aelin was still wearing her bra and underwear beneath the gown, and because she wanted to have a little fun, she let the gown drop to the floor instead of holding it up to herself. Rowan emitted a strangled cough and wheezed behind her. She smirked. "Is something wrong, Whitethorn?"

"Nothing," he grunted through clenched teeth. "Where are your clothes?"

"On the chair. Hand me my pants, please." He did, and she pulled on her slacks. "Blouse." The blouse was a little more trouble. Aelin got it halfway on and stopped, unable to wrangle her sling arm into the unbuttoned blouse. "Shit."

"Here." Unexpectedly, Rowan had picked up her sweater and draped it over her injured arm, careful to keep his touch light. He let her slip her good arm into the other sleeve, then buttoned the three big buttons on the front of the loose sweater. "Does that help?"

"Yes." She flashed him a small, hesitant grin. "Thanks."

He clutched his chest. "Polite words from Aelin Galathynius? What world is this?"

She rolled her eyes. "Don't be a jackass, Whitethorn, just let me grab my purse and we can get the hell out of here."

"Not so fast." He snatched her purse before she could reach it. "Are you supposed to be carrying this?"

"I still have one good arm," she sighed. "Give it to me." He raised one pale brow in disbelief. "Yes, Whitethorn, I can carry my purse. It's not too heavy for the limit they gave me."

Satisfied with that answer, he handed her her purse and held the door open as she walked out. "I'm parked kind of far away," he admitted as they left the ER building. "Couldn't find a closer spot."

"It's okay," she reassured him. "It's my arm that's injured, not my legs."

Her traitorous legs chose that very moment to wobble, betraying her strong façade.

"Mhmm," Rowan drawled, a smirk curving his lips.

She scowled. "Shut it."

He mumbled something indecipherable and, without warning, lifted her off her feet. "We'll actually get somewhere if I don't have to put up with your toddling," he teased.

Aelin's mouth dropped open. "Toddling?!"

His smirk grew. "Tell me you weren't as unsteady as a toddler and I'll call you a liar, Ae." The nickname fell from his lips as easily as his dry sarcasm.

"You're horrid," she grumbled, folding her arms.

"And look at that, we're already at my car!" he announced, triumphant. She sighed and let him help her into the passenger seat.

As they headed down the streets towards downtown Doranelle, Rowan flicked a glance over at her. "If you don't mind me asking, what happened?"

"Remember the accident that blocked up half of downtown earlier this afternoon?" she asked. He nodded. "I was in the taxi that got hit."

If he hadn't been driving, he would have stopped in his tracks. "You--what?"

"Rowan." Instinctively, she reached over and placed her good hand on his forearm. "I'm okay. It wasn't a huge crash."

"It wasn't--Aelin, do you know what happened at that intersection?"

"I remember my taxi getting hit."

His throat bobbed. "The driver that hit your taxi skidded on black ice and T-boned another vehicle. It was...it was bad."

She gasped. "I had no idea."

"Of course not," he murmured. "You were injured, Ae." He shifted one hand off the steering wheel so he could wrap it around her good hand. "There were some serious injuries, but everyone made it to the hospital in time and it seems like they're all stable. Police arrested the driver for DUII and reckless driving." His thumb rubbed across the back of her hand. "It's been all over the news and social media."

"I had no idea," she repeated, softly. "I...I'm glad everyone seems to be okay." She leaned back into the seat and was quiet for the rest of the drive back to her hotel.

At the hotel, Rowan surprised her again by parking, helping her out of the car, and grabbing a small duffle bag from the backseat of his car before accompanying her inside.

"What are you doing?" she hissed under her breath as he walked beside her to the elevator, his steadying hand on her lower back.

"I've been given orders to see you safely home," he drawled, mirth lighting his eyes.

She frowned. "I'm at my hotel, in case you haven't noticed."

He nodded. "You are. And I'm going to make sure you get to your room safe and sound."

"You going to pat me on the head and tuck me into bed, too?" she griped.

"Oh, I wouldn't mind putting you to bed, Aelin," he whispered into her ear. The heat concealed in his lazy words barreled down her spine, awakening a part of her that had absolutely no business being so active when she was supposed to be resting and recovering.

She stepped out of the elevator before Rowan and led him down the hall to her room, where she stopped, took a deep breath, and pressed her key card to the lock. The small screen flashed green, the door unlocked, and with her hand on the half-open door, Aelin turned to face Rowan, her calm voice belying her thundering heart.

"Stay with me, Ro?"

More emotions than she could count flashed across his face. He followed her into the hotel room, closed the door, and leaned himself against the door frame, resting the weight of his gaze on her.

"I'd love to."

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@morganofthewildfire

@backtobl4ck

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@chronicchthonic14

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

#my writing #answered prompt #leia's 500 followers thing #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #rowaelin #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #throne of glass fanfic #throne of glass fanfiction #liiiiiittle bit of angst #just a bit i swear #and tons of hurt comfort #emphasis on comfort #i would never hurt my babies idk what you mean

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beybladeninja · 11 months

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Ninjago OCs from my Beyblade Burst x Ninjago fanfic (part 4/5)

Age: 17

Right Eye Color: Red

Left Eye Color: Black

Hair Color: Black

Family Lineage: Descended from Faith

First Appearance: First Realm and Beyond

Likes:

Training

His brother Benny

Throwing anything he can hold

Dislikes:

Bullies

Slackers

Dull weapons

Backstory:

Ever since Billy was old enough to hold something without dropping it, he was able to throw anything and everything with exact precision. When he saw a target and threw a projectile, that projectile would strike it through and true - perfect bullseye every time. He could throw a sewing needle at a flea and strike it right in the middle of its body; or if he felt like it, he would strike it just enough to immobilize it instead of kill it. No one, not even him, could explain how he was able to throw with such accuracy. People in Wu's Pride called his ability "the Sniper's Eye" and gave him the Rider Name "Mister Bullseye".

It was just a name to Billy until he turned seven and gained a little brother, Benny. It was obvious from the moment Benny was born that he would grow up blind. From that day forward, Billy became Benny's self-proclaimed guardian, protecting him against anyone who dared to give him the evil eye, as well as guiding him away from all of the sharp points. He even went as far as using throwing knives to permanently scar the faces of two bullies who'd cornered him.

That certainly earned him some fear and respect from the people in town.

After that incident, Billy got some fierce scolding from both his parents and the elders in town, though he stood firmly by his decision to protect his little brother. He'd had to complete six months of community service, which consisted of picking up trash and helping townsfolk the second they'd requested for it, and was banned from freely throwing anything; townsfolk watched his every move to make sure he followed that particular penalty. Benny felt terrible that he was the reason that his big brother was being punished, but Billy was quick to shoot down his worry. He told him that he would protect him, no matter the cost.

However, the whole time, Billy was brooding. He was angry at the bullies for attacking his brother, and he was angry at the town for punishing him for simply defending his family. No therapist would work for his kind of anger - he wanted to take it out physically. So he became a competitor in the town's fighting rings, much to the worry of his parents and Benny. In no time at all, he'd climbed the ranks and became the undisputed champion, which only earned him even more fear from the townsfolk.

The entire thing was a message to the entire town - mess with my brother, you mess with me.

Trivia:

- He and Benny are cousins to Inga, so they share the same lineage. Rose is also technically their cousin, though not by blood. Billy and Rose get along fine thanks to their fiery personalities.

- Like Inga, Billy is ambidextrous.

- The numerous pockets and pouches along his clothing hold all of his ammo. Sure, he can throw anything he can get his hands on, but it doesn't hurt to have some already on hand.

- He once took a ceramic dish, broke it between his hands, then immediately used the shards as ammo without even scratching himself.

- "The Sniper's Eye" doesn't end at simply throwing ammo. It also works with long range weapons like guns, crossbows, and even hand cannons. He can hit a perfect bullseye regardless of distance, perception, and no matter the weapon.

- He's also a considerable origami artist - mainly for making weapons out of paper when he has nothing else on hand.

- Like Inga, he's stronger than the average First Realmer. Among his pockets of ammo are small sheets of metal, so when he has no other means to defend himself, he can quickly bend the metal with his fingers to make a formidable weapon.

- He's also very intuitive - he can only glance at an opponent once and determine how much pressure he can exert on his ammo in order to simply immobilize them instead of mar them. And by watching his opponent, he can correctly guess their next moves and therefore strike them right where he wants to.

- He has multiple scars from his life in the ring, but the double scar over his right eye came from his dragon during their first meeting. It wasn't instant friendship between the two, but they finally warmed up to each other.

- His "Sniper's Eye" ability is based off of Mai from "Avatar: The Last Airbender", and his ability to make weapons out of paper is inspired by Paper Star from "Carmen Sandiego".

Weapon of choice: LITERALLY ANYTHING HE CAN THROW AND/OR SHOOT

Dragon: Knife, a Metal Dragon

Special skills:

Parkour artist

Almost supernatural marksman ability

Chiropractic knowledge

Origami

Personality: He takes loyalty to his family, mainly his brother, way too seriously. The only affection he shows is to his little brother, Benny. Anyone and everyone else is a potential threat to Benny, and has to earn his respect by fighting him in the ring. If he deems their skills impressive, he respects them; if they can best him, which has never happened before, they have his undying loyalty. In the ring, he treats his opponents with mockery and contempt, as no one has ever beat him, and both he and everyone else in town seriously doubt that anyone ever will.

Favorite Other Realm Song: 16 Shots

#fanart #ninjago #my art #beyblade #alternate universe #beyburst #fanfic #crossover #original character #bullseye #first realm

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snippetsnitch · 2 years

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(The post many people were waiting for! 😄 This time, I even managed to do it somehow close to Christmas, so I hope this snippet lifts your spirits for the cold season! 🥳🖤 You can find the link to part one underneath! 💫)

#7 - Cold (part 2)

(❗TW: Mentioned past torture❗)

[Hero] was fairly sure they had comitted at least a sub-category of high treason, when they had picked up [Villain] from the snowy streets.

God.

They would betray the internal law, their colleagues and - that was by far the worst factor - their boss, if they followed through with their impulsive plan. [Hero] could only imagine the turmoil that was about to happen, if anyone found out that they were coddling up one of the most wanted criminals in their cheap apartment; not to achieve anything business-related, but to save their fucking life.

Well, there certainly was no return now. [Hero] had made their decision and now they would face the consequences of it.

In for a penny, in for a pound, they say.

"Oh, man...", [Hero] sighed and took a look at their unexpected guest:

[Villain] was still unconscious. After passing out in the streets, their breathing had become even more shallow than it had been before. It wasn't surprising, though: Three of their ribs had been broken and now failed to stabilize their lungs. With their lack of medical equipment, [Hero] could only hope that there was no internal bleeding. Luckily, the other wounds were not as severe: Either small lacerations, bruises or frostbites. [Villains] nose was a different story, but it wasn't as urgent and also not something [Hero] could handle without professional help.

What worried them most, was the hypothermia.

They had not dared to move their nemesis too much after carrying them into their flat, not willing to risk that [Villains] cold blood spread even further into their ragged body. Cautiously, [Hero] had cut off the criminals' outfit (which looked like it was worth more than [Hero] made in a month) to wrap them in every single blanket they could find.

[Hero] had tried to look away when they had removed the clammy clothes: It was wrong to invade [Villains] privacy like this, even if it was necessary to get access to the wounds. It also didn't help that their enemies' body was fucking covered with scars: [Hero] had tried to shake off the nasty question of how many they had inflicted there by themself, but they were not quite successful.

Either me or my boss..., [Hero] had thought and cringed.

They'd finished the procedure as fast as possible. [Hero] couldn't afford questioning their occupational choices right now.

Not while bandaging my fucking enemy.

After that, they waited. For what exactly, they weren't even sure. For an idea to get themself out of this mess? For [Villain] to wake up and laugh at their enormous stupidity? Only heaven knew.

Agitatedly, they threw a second glance at their nemesis. Still sleeping.

[Hero] rubbed their temples. It was very likely that [Villain] survived. They had been adressable when [Hero] found them and had no severe internal injuries. The attackers probably thought that making the criminal immobile and leaving them in the snow would be enough to do the job.

What the hell was even wrong with people?

Just shooting [Villain] would've been more merciful and (ironically) far more effective. [Hero] snorted without a trail of humor in their laughter. The cruelty of their attackers had been [Villains] luck - and [Heros] possible downfall.

Fuck.

[Hero] wasn't stupid enough to think that this situation was going to end well, no matter the possible outcome: Either [Villain] would attack and kill them on the spot after waking up or they would get caught for betraying [Company].

I surely hope it's the first one., [Hero] thought and snorted cynically. [Company] had never been known for patience with traitors, let alone mercy.

God... They really had dug their own grave.

To divert themself from the depressing defeatism that was occupying their mind, [Hero] checked their flat for more blankets. Focusing on the predictable present was far more comforting than worrying about their already damned future. When they passed a window, [Hero] got caught by the mesmerizing sight outside: The twinkling lights of the city were completely covered by a heavy coat of snow by now.

They clutched the blanket in their hands.

If [Hero] had left [Villain], they would be dead by now. Lost in the cold and only found after the blizzard had finally vanished. Without wanting to, [Hero] shuddered at the thought of frozen blue limbs, hidden underneath a merciless cover of ice.

They turned to look at [Villain] again: If it wasn't for the bruises and the criminals' unnatural wheezing, one could think they were simply asleep. The warm light made them look just like every other ordinary person. Like one of [Heros] friends, maybe, staying over for the weekend...

[Hero] shook their head.

What the fuck?

It sure as hell wasn't like that.

[Villain] was a criminal who had scarcely cheated death, because [Hero] had been in the right place at the right time. Because they had been too fucking soft to do what would've been expected from them.

At least, that's what their boss would say.

Killing is a part of your duty, whether you like it or not., they would say, This scum isn't worth saving.

But in the moment [Hero] had decided to carry their nemesis home, they had also decided, that no, the idea of human lives having a variety in their holistic worth was not something they could accept as a virtue.

Because [Villains] life was a life, after all.

And because killing wasn't a fucking virtue.

[Hero] sighed.

...

Hell, they didn't even hate [Villain] the way they were supposed to. Even though arrogant and sharp-tongued, their nemesis had never inflicted unnecessary pain upon the innocents that weren't their targets. [Villain] was a criminal and possibly dangerous, but they weren't sadistic.

"They probably have a smaller body count than [Company].", they thought and didn't quite know how to feel about that.

[Hero] jumped violently, when all of a sudden, a hoarse voice behind them rose to a whisper:

"Where- Where am I...?"

Oh, fucking hell.

Fucking hell.

Slowly, [Hero] turned around.

[Villain] was looking at them from across the room, gaze still dazed.

"Um... In my apartment.", [Hero] said after staring at their foes' pale face for a little too long. They nervously cleared their throat.

Why the fuck were they already awake?

"I- I found you."

[Villain] didn't answer. It was visible how much the aftermath of their condition must've ached: The criminal was pale as a ghost and trembled heavily beneath the sheets.

It only took [Villain] a few seconds to recognize their saviours' features: "You're... You're [Hero].", they breathed, eyes going wide.

"Yeah... Yeah, it's me.", [Hero] answered and awkwardly scratched their neck, "...What a coincidence, right?"

The criminal stiffened. A tense atmosphere unfurled itself the whole room and [Heros] heart sank even further into their boots.

This had been a bad idea.

"Well, just start then.", [Villain] murmured after a few moments of silence had passed. The criminals' voice sounded too weak to match the contempt it was filled with.

"Start..?", [Hero] repeated with a frown.

"What the fuck should I start?"

[Villain] refused to look at them.

"Stop the shitty games. What does [Company] want to know, huh?", they asked lowly and [Hero] could see them grow tenser with every passing second (were they shaking?).

[Hero] shook their head in visible confusion.

"What..- What makes you think of [Company] right now? I don't-"

Oh...

Oh god.

Grave realization hit them, when [Hero] finally comprehended [Villains] words. The way their enemies' body had instinctly reacted after finding out [Heros] identity. How [Villains] gaze had become hollow after seeing who was standing in front of them.

Dissociating.

They think I'm gonna question them.

"I- [Villain], it's not like that!", [Hero] said, too baffled to hide the shock in their voice, "You were attacked, so I picked you up to bring you somewhere safe!"

"Being with your kind isn't safe...", [Villain] answered with an unnervingly blank gaze.

[Hero] scratched their neck. Fuck, they hadn't even thought about how damn threathening all of this would obviously be. [Villain] had found themself in a foreign environment, had awfully painful injuries and the first thing they saw after regaining consciousness was the face of their fucking enemy. Of course, they had instantly gone into a fight-flight response.

"Look...", [Hero] started lamely, not even sure what they could say to possibly fix this, "It's really cold outside and you would've frozen to death, if I had left you. All the hospitals are closed and- Yeah, whatever, you're in my apartment now. I'm not going to hurt you or anything, I'm going to give you some meds and painkillers to better your condition and then you can leave, okay?"

[Hero] cringed internally, when they looked into [Villains] alarmed face. God, this really rang hollow.

"Look, I won't... I won't torture you, [Villain]. I'll just patch you up and you can go."

The criminal visibly needed time to process this information. Their eyes wandered through [Heros] shabby flat and eventually stopped on their saviour again. Their gaze was clear enough to make [Hero] wonder how they managed to stay so alert despite the pain they must've been in.

Practice makes perfect., [Hero] thought somberly and couldn't wrestle down a certain amount of self-contempt at their own notion: [Villain] had probably developed their survival skills underneath the hands of the very people [Hero] was working for.

The good people, as they assured themself.

"You... saved me...?", [Villain] asked.

[Hero] sighed.

"Yes. I saved you."

"Why... Why the fuck would you do that?"

Besides the deep exhaustion that seemed to creep into their eyes, [Villain] looked honestly confused. A seldom sight in their otherwise confident features.

[Hero] kneaded their hands. Vocalizing this wasn't exactly soothing the unease they felt about the whole thing.

"You know...", they started, "It simply felt wrong to let you die... So I helped you."

[Villain] scoffed in disbelief.

"What, like the good samaritan that you are?"

"More like the stupid idiot who just saved your fucking life, asshole!", [Hero] shouted and glared at their patient, who looked equally belligerent.

"Okay,", they tried again after internally counting to ten, "I know how this sounds. Blame it on the fact that I'm stupid or that it's fucking Christmas, but I couldn't stand the thought of leaving you to die out there." [Hero] pressed their lips together. "It would've been wrong and so I saved you. That's the best answer you're gonna get."

The last words came out with a bitterness that was acrid enough to shift something in [Villains] expression.

"I know you have every reason to think that this is some kind of trap.", [Hero] said firmly without breaking eye contact, "Honestly, it probably should be one. But I wouldn't have made you tea and wrapped you in the blankets that my mom knitted me last year, if I wanted to capture or torture you, [Villain]. You're not my prisoner."

Their nemesis didn't answer, but to [Heros] surprise, the openly hostile expression on their face was fading just the slightest bit. [Villain] didn't exactly look calmer, but... Weary. Weary and dead tired. [Hero] guessed that despite the dubious enviroment they had found themself in, their foe was simply too exhausted to stay alert for much longer; especially, if they had the slight but hopeful chance of temporary safety. Besides, [Villain] was too hurt to do anything right now, even if [Hero] would've had foul intentions.

[Villain] closed their eyes and let their head softly fall back onto the pillow. [Hero] thought they were already asleep again, when the criminal suddenly mumbled: "You must either think really high of me or really low about the people you're working for..."

[Heros] brow furrowed in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

Their enemy pondered a little. "Everyone who's in your field would've left me. Should have left me. It's anticipatory obedience. With this...", [Villain] sloppily gestured around, "You betray everything your shitty organisation stands for. You will be killed for this... Provided that you're telling the truth, of course."

"I am telling the truth!", [Hero] snapped, more irritated by [Villains] distrust than the rest of their baleful forecast.

The criminal smiled. "Then you are as good as dead."

"Well, thank you, [Villain], that's fucking reassuring."

"Must be either because you don't like the way your business works... Or because you've grown really fond of me..."

The smile on [Villains] bruised features grew a little bit wider. "Personally, I think it's the last one."

[Hero] rolled their eyes. "Shut the hell up...", they grumbled without any venom behind the words.

They turned their head to look out of the window again. The snow was still falling.

Oh, man...

Only a few hours ago, [Heros] only problem had been internally debating if they wanted to visit a Christmas Market. Now, they were actively risking their career, their reputation and - according to [Villains] more than convincing assumption - their very life, if someone found out about this.

"What am I supposed to do now, huh...?", [Hero] asked despondently and turned to face their guest. [Villain], however, had placidly drifted off into the depths of sleep again, leaving them alone with the chaos of their own confusing thoughts.

God...

What kind of mess had they gotten themself into?

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thesentientmango · 5 years

Text

Burnt// Royality

Read it on AO3

Patton flipped a pancake, as they hummed a small tune. They couldn't wait for Roman to wake up and see what they'd done for him. Patton flipped another pancake. The sunrise peaked through the curtains, sending fiery streaks of yellow, red, and orange light across the room. It was beautiful. The day was new, a clean slate to make their own. With a positive attitude, and Roman by their side, they felt unstoppable!

Suddenly, without warning a crawling, burning sensation erupted from their hips. Patton stiffen in the grip, they wanted to get out, they wanted to move. They felt their heart rate swelled as the touch migrated from their hips to around their torso. Their breath quickened, and eyes welled up with tears. They were trapped.

Patton wanted, needed, to get out of this. They dropped the spatula they had been holding. They tried, desperately, to remove the hands from around their stomach, but they stayed firm. Patton managed to whip around, and through tears shoved the person back. They felt the burning pain go up through their wrist. Patton stepped back, and unconsciously set their free hand on the stove behind them.

Patton couldn't tell who screamed, but they felt too weak to remove their hand from the stove. The immobilizing burning on their other hand stopped, but it transferred to the other side of their body. Patton's hand was yanked from the stove, and then they sank to the floor.

Patton curled into a ball. They scrunched their eyes closed. They tried to get the tears to stop. They tried to calm their breathing. They tried not to let their hand, which felt raw with pain, bother them.

Patton felt something brush their shoulder, and they flinched away. Suddenly something cool was on top of their hand. The pain died down slightly. Patton felt like they could breath again.

A while passed before Patton opened their eyes. Roman sat in the living room on a chair, he was talking to someone over the phone.

Patton looked down, and saw a wet cloth positioned just on top of their hand. Patton sighed, and Roman glanced over.

Roman said a few more things to the person on the phone, before hesitantly making his way over. Roman stopped a few feet from Patton, and he sat down.

"How's your hand?"

Patton gave Roman a weak smile, "It feels a bit better than before. I'm sorry, this is my fault."

Roman stared at them in confusion, before responding, "How is this your fault? No, I needed to play more attention. I shouldn't have kept touching you. I should have noticed you were getting uncomfortable."

Patton smile wobbled, "But none of this would have happened if I wasn't broken. If I wasn't such a freak."

"No! My love, please listen to me. You are not broken. Not wanting to be touched does not make you a freak. All it means is we need to have better communication. But you are not broken. This was not your fault. Your feelings, thoughts, any and all emotions you experience are valid."

Patton started to cry. What had they done to deserve Roman?

Roman kept talking, "I wasn't sure what was happening, so I called Logan to ask for help. I hope that's alright. They said you might be touch sensitive, so maybe that's something we should look into."

"Roman, thank you." Patton sniffled, "I thought I was crazy for not wanting this."

Roman shook his head, "Please Patton never think you're crazy for an experience you have."

"Thank you Ro, I love you."

"I love you too. Now we should clean that burn, or else both Logan and Virgil are going to kill me."

Patton giggled, "Alright my prince, thank you really."

Roman smiled, "Darling, you really need to stop saying thank you. I'm just doing what's right."

Patton smiled. They were so lucky to have Roman in his life. Today might not have started perfectly, but Patton was sure it would end well.

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