#also i like to think of the blood over her eyelid as foreshadowing to her losing her eye in the major fight... maybe im looking too deep | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alethiometry · 3 years

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thinkin about an alternate take on odyssey’s cult of kosmos storyline that may culminate in a blatant ripoff of valhalla but bear with me here lmao

instead of deimos continually antagonizing you the entire game as you try desperately to convince them that the cult is simply using them, deimos is actively trying to recruit you to fight alongside them. you are both demigods descended from sparta’s greatest hero, two sides of the same coin, etc. etc. as you go around killing cultists you get those cutscenes where each cultist gets to have one final say (just like all the other ac games) and while many joined and profited from the war for selfish reasons, there are enough of those who had lofty ideals that maybe you start to see that the two warring nations are both truly broken beyond repair. people are suffering because of the war, and for every callous profiteer that joined the cult to make a quick buck there’s also someone who joined just to survive, or because if you can’t beat em, join em -- at the least, they could then maybe stand a chance at protecting the people they love, even if it means others will have to pay that price. that’s just the way the world works, right?

and so after the battle of amphipolis and after killing the rest of the cult, you return to the cave of gaia in delphi and find not only deimos but also the ghost of kosmos down there, in front of the pyramid. deimos is still nursing his wounds from where kleon shot him, and the ghost finally unveils herself. both get their villain-y monologues about how it’s all for the greater good, everyone who died along the way was sacrificing themselves for a better world and the world will remember what they did -- but that will only happen if you join them. if you’re there to make sure they mattered. and the pyramid with its weird little artifacts still draws you in like it did that first night you infiltrated their meeting, and you and deimos and the ghost all touch it and you all get teleported via videogame magic or isu technology or whatever the fuck who cares it’s just a stupid scifi game let me live to...

atlantis?

it’s the exact same look and feel as the dlc: humans and gods living in (apparent) harmony, people are happy, families are together, there’s laughter and music and plenty of food and leisure. the buildings are gorgeous, there’s like fountains and gardens and aquariums and other cool shit, and if not for the weird isu tech all over the place you’d almost think it was elysium. but it’s not elysium, because you’re not dead. deimos isn’t dead. and you’ve never felt more at peace. the ghost tells you that this is all perfectly achievable, if only you join them in helping construct this world from the ashes of the old. deimos tells you that they’ve seen this in their dreams; the world was truly like this once, and it could be again.

there’s no war to be fought here; no pain or suffering or loss. deimos sheathes their sword and tells you that they cannot just go back to being family in the real world, not after everything that has happened and all the suffering you both have experienced -- out in the real world, you were both doomed to be nothing more than shattered bones and streaks of gore at the foot of sparta’s sacred mountain. you don’t matter out there, and you never did, and they know you are tired of trying to prove that you do, because they’re tired too. but in here, in this world, you could be together. you could be the siblings you never got the chance to be. this is what they were fighting for all along. they gave their name, and their life, and their innocence and their pain -- all to achieve this. and with your help they can finally stop calling themself deimos and reclaim their old name. or the two of you could find new names. you could be gods. you could slaughter the old gods, the ones whose prophecies doomed you both to die at the foot of mount taygetos (deimos still doesn’t know the cult orchestrated that lmao listen the brainwashing runs deep). you could be anyone you want here.

all of this feels so real. you feel like you could stay here forever.

deimos extends their hand. you reach out to take it. to join them.

and something tumbles out of your pouch.

it’s a little wooden eagle, a child’s toy, battered and all scratched up with most of its defining features worn away. you know it well. you know every contour of it because a little girl gave it to you when you left the island where you and she once lived, to go make a name for yourself in a war that never seemed to end, until suddenly it did. you know this toy eagle because you folded that little girl’s cold, dead, still-bloody fingers around it one terrible night in athens. you were told, later, that the eagle burned with her on the pyre your friends constructed for her. and so the only reason this eagle is here now, the only reason you can run your hands along its outstretched wings and trace the whorls of the woodgrain with your fingertips and feel the slight weight of it in your palm is because none of this is real.

what is real is this: the cult existed, and phoibe died. leonidas died. perikles died. brasidas died. and you cannot live in a world where the very act of dying for the world they didn’t know they were helping to shape is the one thing that becomes the defining feature of their legacies. where their lives become nothing more than some kind of grotesque buttressing to prop up the very people who got them all killed.

there’s some kind of bossfight against deimos, who, despite their appeals to you to join them as a battlefield companion and true siblings after too many years lost between you, still doesn’t hesitate to turn against you as they always have the moment things do not go their way. because that’s the way it is between the two of you: they push, and you push back.

and the more you fight, the more atlantis crumbles. the others don’t seem to notice; they simply sit there and laugh and sip wine and dance and sing as stone after stone falls from the vast turrets and crushes first their companions, then them, into blood and bone and gristle. there’s a gate up on the highest tower of the city, and you know instinctively that without it you’ll be stuck here in this strange dream-limbo, fighting your sibling for eternity as both worlds, dream and real, carry on with or without you. and as you make your way to it (maybe there’s some sweet parkour opportunities here with like falling debris and such) deimos gives chase and as you draw closer to the gate you start to see that it’s not empty at all, but full of people crowing in to take a peek at all the commotion.

there’s sokrates and hippokrates and aristophanes. alkibiades looking uncharacteristically worried, and [insert any npc lieutentants you’ve recruited like roxana or odessa]. xenia is there, and so is anthousa. kyra and/or thaletas, too (depending on the outcome of the mykonos questline). and a gang of plucky little kids, all cheering you on: khloe, the girl with the clay friends; arsenios, the tour-guide-turned-con-artist; ardos and his caretaker. (and i guess nikolaos and stentor if they’re still alive lmao) (maybe pythagoras is allowed too but he’s on thin fucking ice)

and, of course, myrrine. standing at the forefront, shoulder to shoulder with barnabas and herodotos. all three of them -- alongside everyone else you’ve ever allied with, fought beside, or helped out -- everyone who loves you, everyone you’ve ever loved -- they’re beckoning you home. back to the real world, where they matter. where you matter.

where you have always mattered.

you’re so close to taking your mother’s hand, you can feel the warmth of her fingertips -- and then you hear a scream below you.

it’s deimos, and they’re falling. maybe they tripped in their haste to catch you. maybe some of the falling rubble knocked them off-balance. it doesn’t matter. the only thing that matters is that your sibling is falling to their doom. again. and there’s nothing you can do about it.

except this time there definitely is.

so you leap from the ledge with all the strength you have, the roaring in your ears drowning out myrrine’s shouts. you’ve fallen from greater heights, after all, and lived to tell the tale. this is nothing. and this time you’ll catch your sibling, because this is your dream, too. and in your dream, you can do whatever the fuck you want.

you catch deimos, the both of you still falling, the ground rushing up to meet you -- and you both wake in the cave of gaia with a jolt. each of you still have a hand on the pyramid, and you make eye contact. they give you the slightest of nods, as if to say i’m okay. i’m awake.

the ghost is still asleep, head bowed, eyes flitting to and fro behind closed eyelids, both hands still on the pyramid.

you destroy the pyramid with your grandfather’s spear. this wakes the ghost. she’s furious, and tells you that you’ve made a terrible mistake. the cult of kosmos may be extinguished, but the ideals she worked toward are not. (basically this kind of mirrors the whole spiel about the philosopher-king or whatever tf the ghost said at the end of the actual in-game storyline that foreshadowed the order of ancients and eventually the templars)

deimos looks to you and mutters that it’s your choice what to do next. the ghost tries to appeal to them but they’ve run out of fucks to give. they leave.

[kill the ghost] what it says on the label. you get a nice little ac-esque assassination cutscene and it’s actually got some emotional weight to the decision/scene, unlike the game.

[walk away] leave the ghost in the cave. the pyramid is gone, the cult is dead, your sibling is free. the ghost will live the rest of her life looking over her shoulder, knowing that the grandchildren of leonidas have seen her for what she is. knowing that whatever she does next, they’ll be watching closely.

when you leave the cave, you see deimos, pacing as they overlook the view of phokis from mount parnassos. it’s high noon and the sun glints brilliantly off their gilded armor. they glance at the temple of apollo and remark how strange it is to be standing here together, so close to the place where both your fates were sealed with just a few words from a puppet pythia a lifetime ago.

you ask what they’re going to do, now that the cult is gone.

the peace of nicias isn’t going to hold, they tell you. the war will start again soon enough, and when that happens both athens and sparta will be looking for champions to fight for their side.

dialogue choices:

[i’ll see you on the battlefield] you and your sibling part ways. subsequent conquest battles have a chance of spawning a bossfight against deimos who is fighting for the other side -- neither of you can perma-kill the other so you can encounter/fight them over and over again. at the end of the conquest battle, no matter who wins, you can see them walking up and down the battlefield and you can have some silly little sibling banter, which changes depending on who wins/loses the battle

[join me, fight with me] deimos joins your crew just like in the game. unlike the game, you can interact with them at any time while they’re walking up and down your ship and have sibling banter because i just want some decent fucking sibling banter in this game

no matter which option you pick, the first time you return to sparta after finishing this storyline you’ll have the option of entering your old family home and triggering the family dinner cutscene with all the surviving members of your family because goddammit even after all this wishful revisionism i still love that silly little family dinner

anyway in conclusion this is what i want out of odyssey, thanks for coming to my TED talk, don’t forget to smash that like&subscribe the way the eagle bearer definitely smashed brasidas’ fine spartan ass offscreen bc ubisoft were too smoothbrained to give us the romance we deserved

#tuserautumn #userbryn #assassin's creed #ac odyssey #cool story charlotte #can u tell i listened to 'leaving valhalla' one too many times on loop tonight and have been cryin in the club @ that doorway scene #idk fam i just want a remaster/retweaking of odyssey #where all the art direction and the characters and music and general story beats are the same #but with a more coherent narrative that doesn't disintegrate the moment you start prodding at the plot holes #yes i'm fully aware that deimos dies in novel/wiki canon NO i do NOT care. FUCK that. in this version deimos lives #anyway ub*s*ft hmu there's way more odyssey-reboot ideas where this came from and they're all WAY hornier + involve pegging spartan general #better yet just let me buy the fucking franchise already cmon #i've got IDEAS #i mean they're not GOOD ideas but like.#must ideas be good??? is it not enough simply fulfill all the desires in my selfish little gremlin heart????????

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blue-lions-baby · 4 years

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Scars That We Can’t Erase (Dimitri x F!Reader)

hi!! this fic was requested by an anon! i’m so sorry i realized too late that once i replied to the original request i can’t like reply to it anymore does that make sense i’ve been studying for six hours pLEASE i absolutely fell in love with the given prompt, and i hope my writing did it justice! here is the original request--

“Hi! Can i get some dimitri × fem reader in which dima literally adores the reader please? One time, the reader takes a grave hit for him in battle and he is a worried mess? He cant stop thinking about her, his training is sloppy because he cant concentrate, he feels awful. He even stays at the infirmary with her all day and night while she's unconscious, manuela has to force him to get some rest. He feels terrible and guilty when seeing the scar that the reader has (oh poor boi-) Thanks! Ilysm♡ “

i should also let you guys know that this fic (imo at least) is a bit more... intense, compared to my other ones. it does get rather lighthearted towards the end, so hopefully it kinda balances out ???

pre-timeskip and no spoilers!!

~*~

No...

No, no, no...

The last thing that Dimitri saw was your quivering, paling lips and your frame crumbling to the blood-soaked ground.

The last thing that Dimitri heard was Byleth’s cries for a healer and the way your name mangled out of his throat in a blood-curdling scream-- along with the sickeningly sweet cries of the bandit who struck you down as he stabbed, stabbed, stabbed the poor bastard’s soul out of his botched body.

The last thing Dimitri felt on his lips was blood. Blood from his tongue-- the pink, throbbing muscle oozing with red liquid-- or from the pulp of that bastard’s corpse, he did not know or care. The hauntingly warm liquid stained the corners of his lips and the core of his very soul as the deep holes and gashes he imprinted on the man’s body left ribbons of flesh hanging from visibly cracked bones, rendering him nearly unrecognizable as a human being.

“Dimitri! That’s enough!” A voice that sounded eerily similar to his professor’s wormed its way into his mind.

“How dare you lay a finger on her, you monster!”

“Your Highness, he’s already dead! Just leave him alone!” Cried a legion of voices, none holding familiarity to him.

“I will punish you for what you did! For what you did to (F/N)!”

It was his fault.

It was all his fault.

If only he saw that bandit rushing towards him.

If only he saw the glistening of the ruffian’s axe as he swung the sharpened slab of metal at him.

If only he heard you call out his name, a foreshadow to his bloody fate.

If only you didn’t jump in to save him.

If only he could have saved you.

Scenes of you falling before his very eyes kept replaying in his head, tearing open the fresh, guilt-induced wounds in his heart in a never-ending cycle. Something solid-- arms, perhaps-- grappled onto his pulsing, aching arms, which he shrugged off with ease. He wasn’t going to stop until that monster of a man suffered the consequences for hurting you. He wasn’t going to stop until that monster of a man paid his dues. He wasn’t going to stop--

Until he felt a gentle hold on his wrist.

Dimitri, snapping out of his blood-lusting reverie, paused instantly. He jerked his face to the small, shaking hand that just barely ghosted the surface of his gauntlet.

Your small, shaking hand.

“Dimitri...” A hand as beautiful as the one steadying his shaking wrist cupped his cheek, erasing the splatters of impurities that marred his smooth skin. “Please, stop...”

The fractured lance in his hand fell to the ground as its owner caught you in his arms, preventing you from suffering the same fate. Dimitri stumbled to his knees, fatigue and overexertion having finally caught up to him. Wheezing and hugging you as tightly as he could, he stroked your matted, sweaty, yet gorgeous locks with the gentleness of a lover. The delicate footsteps of Mercedes caught his attention and he looked up at his peer.

“Your Highness,” her eyes turned to you then back to him, “she’s going to be okay.”

Everything went black.

~*~

The carefree songs of swallows were the first to greet the groggy prince as he re-entered the world of consciousness. Although his hearing slowly came back to the awakened male, he just couldn’t will his eyelids to lift. And so he laid there, his ears the only channel to the bustling world around him.

“How are they?” Asked a monotone voice, stained with concern.

“Thankfully, the prince didn’t suffer any major wounds. A few scratches here and there, as well as some swelling and light bruising, but nothing too serious. Still, we should be careful straining his body any further. As for (F/N)...”

He heard the flirtatious healer heave heavily; his heart crumbled.

“That Mercedes girl did a splendid job patching her up in the moment. If you were to come even a moment later, we would have lost her.”

“So they’ll both live?” Dimitri recognized that worried tone from anywhere-- his loyal retainer.

“His Highness, for sure. (F/N), she... I’ve done everything I could to patch her up, but...”

“So... The best thing we can do is just... wait?”

“That’s the only thing we can do, Professor.”

Dimitri heard footsteps approach his bedside, then shortly congregate to elsewhere. The royal, disheartened and spirit-broken, let out a pitiful gurgle akin to a cry.

“Dimitri!”

“Your Highness!”

Through brute force and sheer will, he wrested his eyes open. The gentle morning light harshly struck his still-delicate pupils, making him wince. A raging headache tore through his temples, threatening to split his skull open.

“(F-F/N)...” He found himself muttering. “Where--? Where is--?”

“She is here, Your Highness.” Dedue motioned to the still figure beside the prince. “She is... not in the best condition.”

“I heard.” Dimitri dismissed the oncoming report, knowing his heart would all but collapse from within if he had to hear your grim fate iterated again. “I heard... everything.”

“Dimitri,” his professor began, “do you need anything?”

“Actually... May you please help me sit up?”

I can’t get a good look at her from this angle...

“No can do, Prince Dimitri.” Manuela retorted. “Even though your wounds are not as severe as (F/N)’s, we really shouldn’t put your body under any more stress.”

“Ms. Manuela, please. I beg of you.” Dimitri paused. “T-Truthfully, this position is rather uncomfortable. I would feel much better if I were to be readjusted.”

Manuela sighed, glanced over the royal’s swollen limbs and cut appendages, and reluctantly nodded.

“All right, fine. Let us know if anything starts to hurt.”

“Of course. You have my thanks. All of you.”

While Dedue busied himself propping and fluffing the pillows to Dimitri’s comfort, Manuela and Byleth worked together to assist the royal. They slowly managed to complete the task, doing their best to inflict as little pain as possible to the wincing and grimacing male.

“T-Thank you.” He breathed out shakily. “I feel... better now.”

“Do you require anything else, Your Highness?” Dedue questioned.

“I am fine, thank you. I just need time to... reflect.”

“I understand. I will wait outside should you need anything.” Dedue arose mechanically, bowed, and went outside to his station.

“Well, I need to run to town to restock on some medical supplies. I will be back as soon as I can. Goodbye.~” Manuela winked, patted Byleth on the shoulder, and sauntered away.

“Are you sure you don’t need anything else?” Byleth asked again, double-checking on the fluffed pillows.

“I am fine, Professor. Thank you for your help, as always.” Dimitri smiled slightly.

Byleth nodded, glanced at their other student, and leaned down.

“She’s going to be okay, Dimitri.”

Dimitri said nothing, the words meant to reassure only fueling his anxiety. All he could muster was a feigned smile and a small nod.

“Thank you for the encouragement, Professor.”

And Byleth was off, no doubt hurrying back to the rest of the Lions.

Now Dimitri was alone, save for Dedue who was ready to attend to his lord's every whim and command.

And... you.

Dimitri’s head lolled to face you. You were neatly tucked in the infirmary bed, a thin blanket cascaded over your body. So thin, in fact, that he could see the outline of the thick bandaging about your torso and shoulder.

Memories of the previous battle flooded his mind.

Distinct, biting, and painful memories that he’d do anything to bury in the oblivion-- to tuck away in the dark recesses of his mind, never to see the light of consciousness ever again.

He lifted his arm, forgoing his body’s desire to rest the battered limb, in a futile attempt to reach you-- to hold you.

So close, yet so far.

He remembered how his name was the last thing to spill out of your shaking, colorless lips as the lilting (E/C) hues he fell in love with gave way to a hollow, lifeless sheen.

How you were within his grasp-- within his reach-- yet he could do nothing to save you.

Except needlessly pulverize a dead man’s body into literal shreds.

Oh, Goddess.

His classmates.

His fellow Lions.

He had no direct memory of the faces or expressions he saw in his frenzy, yet he remembered it so distinctly. Although he possessed no recollections to base this on, he could clearly see each and every one of their faces painted with horror and quite possibly revulsion at the murderous monstrosity he managed to commit.

“Deem...”

Dimitri almost choked. He very nearly jumped out of bed if the shooting pain in his legs didn’t remind him of his sorry state.

“(F/N)...?!” Groaning, he turned his whole body to face you. “C-Can you hear me...?!”

“...ma.”

Your eyelids shuddered before stilling once more. He heard a quiet, labored wheeze rise from your chest before you succumbed to another deep sleep. A rush of emotions throbbed through his heart, each one too complex and short-lived for the prince to process.

“(F/N)...” He reached out his hand again, knowing full well that you were beyond his grasp. “I do not know if you can hear me, but please... Live.”

~*~

Within a day Dimitri’s body was healed of most of its external wounds, but his soul was still as ravaged as the battlefield you fell in. While the rest of the Lions greeted their leader with open arms (all except one, spitting out how his display in their previous skirmish proved he was “nothing but a feral boar,”) Dimitri could only return a fraction of their enthusiasm. He still smiled and trained and attended lectures, but the dark bags forming under his blank eyes were a physical manifestation of the raging storm within.

“Ope! Gotcha again, Your Highness!” Sylvain fisted the air triumphantly, hoping his smug arrogance would arouse a competitive flame within the despondent teen.

“Ah... It appears you have.” Dimitri mumbled, more so to himself than to Sylvain, and slipped into a fighting stance. “Let us try again.”

“Actually, Your Highness...” Sylvain leaned on the wooden training lance. “How about we take a short break. We’ve been training all afternoon.”

“Has it been that long?” Dimitri blinked, looking up at the still-blue skies.

“Yeah. C’mon. I’ll take care of the lances, you just sit down and make yourself comfortable.”

Although Dimitri would typically fight and say something along the lines of how he couldn’t possibly allow someone to take care of something he could so easily do himself, Sylvain found the lance slip out of the royal’s fingers with ease. After propping the training weapons on a rack, Sylvain joined Dimitri on a bench.

“So Your Highness,” Sylvain slid to his friend’s side, “we... couldn’t help noticing that...”

“Yes?”

“Well...” Sylvain trailed off again. “Ever since... you know... You haven’t been your usual self. At all.”

“Is that so...” Dimitri mumbled, staring at the ground with great interest.

“Yeah... We’ve all been really worried about you, Your Highness. We just... We just want to make sure you’re okay.”

Dimitri stared unblinkingly at nothing, utterly reaction-less to his friend’s voiced concern. He remained unmoving for a long time; Sylvain thought that if he so much as laid a hand on Dimitri’s shoulder, he would all but shatter into irreparable shards.

“... I apologize for my rudeness Sylvain, but I must go to the infirmary.”

“Huh--?”

“It is of utmost importance. Please excuse me.”

“Ah--! Hey, wait--!”

The prince managed to just barely slip out of the redhead’s outstretched palm, gracefully bobbing out of reach and the training grounds.

♠ ♥ ♣ ----------------------------------------------------------- ♣ ♥ ♠

“You have to take care of yourself too, you know.” Manuela clicked her tongue disapprovingly, setting down a lit candle on a nearby table.

“Thank you for your concern Ms. Manuela, but I can assure you that I am feeling just fine.” Dimitri replied flatly, his glossy pupils not leaving your frame for a second.

“Sure, but the bags under your eyes say otherwise.”

Dimitri’s fingertips grazed the sensitive stretch of skin on his face, his upper eyelid twitching in response to the gentle touch.

“I do not care much for personal vanity.”

“It’s a sign that you’re not getting enough sleep.” Manuela retorted sharply, smoothing out the crinkles on a nearby bed. “Here. I prepared a bed for you. If you’re going to spend the night here, at least do it on a bed.”

Sunken azure hues rested on the stiff, plank-like cot longingly before snapping back to your ashy complexion.

“Thank you, Ms. Manuela. I will make use of it later.”

“No, Prince Dimitri. Rest. Now.”

Brown, fiery eyes clashed with bleary blues as the healer and prince remained locked in a fierce staring match. Dimitri’s eyes began to water as he stifled a yawn, reluctantly accepting defeat as he slowly stood up and headed for the bed.

“Good. Thank you.” The prince’s yawn seemed to rub off on Manuela as she stretched her arms to the sky. “Go to sleep, all right? Don’t stay up too late.”

“Yes, Ms. Manuela...”

Manuela initiated one last check on your battered body, bade a goodnight to the royal, and slipped out of the infirmary.

Dimitri peered blankly at the barren ceiling, a cacophonous symphony comprised of self-hatred and regret premiering at the forefront of his thoughts. And the soloist singing for eternal damnation to his soul was none other than you-- you, whom he so lovingly adored. You, who helped pull him from the abyss more times than he could count. You, the light that warded off his thickening darkness. And how did he show his profound appreciation towards you?

By sentencing you to eternal sleep for his carelessness.

Dimitri twisted his body to face you, the delicate mask that he had so calculatingly designed crumbling at the near-lifeless shell before him. The shallow, unsteady rise and fall of your chest was the only indicator that your soul hadn’t left your body; he grew terrified at the prospect of it dipping and never rising. He made conscious effort to avert his eyes from that region-- not only out of the high regard he held towards you, but...

The more he lingered on images of your stilling body, the tighter his chest grew.

Just thinking about it threatened how much air his lungs could take in.

He rocked himself to a sitting position and slipped his feet out of bed. He dutifully made his way back to his original post-- on a rickety stool by your bedside. He firmly planted his rear on the round slab of wood and tenderly brushed a stray lock of hair from your forehead.

Goddess you were so, so beautiful.

He felt almost guilty admiring you while you were in such a state, but the way the singular lit candle contoured every feature, every dip in your face in the most heavenly way possible... He couldn’t help it. His hand found residence in yours, taking painstaking note of the very obvious size difference. His other hand busied itself smoothing your unruly hair, quelling the frazzled strands from a complete uproar.

He’d trade his life for yours in a heartbeat if it meant that he could witness the lively (E/C) hues he fell so desperately in love with shine once again.

A lone finger hooked under your jaw and the rest of his digits caressed your icy cheek.

“(F/N)...” His voice cracked out, “I am so, so sorry...”

Something hot leaked out of his eyes and splattered onto your cheek, in which he alarmingly wiped away. He reached up to halt the steady stream of tears pouring out of him, but the dam had broken. His large frame hunched over into a quivering mass, broken sobs echoing off of the indifferent walls of the dark infirmary. Only half-empty bottles of medicine bore witness to the royal’s breakdown; his sloppy apologies and implorations fell on the earless bushels of medicinal herbs.

The small candle that Manuela had previously set up was nearing its end, the stumpy mass of wax and wick now a mere puddle of its former self. Before the few remaining trickles of light embarked on their last pilgrimage across the room, Dimitri made one last guttural plea.

“Wake up, my Beloved...” He called out, the name he had granted you only in his mind slipping out in his desperate hour. “Please, wake up...”

♠ ♥ ♣ ----------------------------------------------------------- ♣ ♥ ♠

The mellow arias of songbirds heralded the beginning of a new day. A biting breeze blew through an open window and sliced your exposed skin, eliciting little goosebumps on the affected areas. With a breathless sigh and a pain-stricken moan, your eyelids managed to wedge themselves open. A bland ceiling was the first to welcome you back to the land of the living-- along with a large, dark mass hovering beside you.

You felt the remnants of a scream scratch out of your sorely unused throat and a sudden barrage of aches and pains besieged your frail body. You opened your mouth to yell, to cry for help, but no sound manifested. You felt something rough but warm adjust its grip on your hand, further sending your mind into a groggy panic.

“Mmph... (F/N)...”

That... That voice...

You stilled yourself (not that you were moving much anyway) and silently studied the steadily breathing shadow beside you. The dim dawn’s light reflected off of a bundle of disheveled gold locks, as well as a bright blue cape that was messily slung over a male’s shoulder.

A maelstrom of memories swirled through your mind.

A ruffian racing towards Dimitri, the edge of a bloodied and rusted axe swinging right for his neck.

Your legs discovering a mind of its own as it placed you right on the receiving end of the strike.

Your head throbbed, each surge of memory more painful than the last.

Darkness, followed by the putrid, metallic smell of blood in the distance and other auditory sensations too disturbing to fully comprehend.

Something warm and comforting pricked the corner of your heart as you recalled a certain sensation akin to embracing before you blacked out. Your thoughts frustratingly hazed into nothing. It felt like a certain memory was locked, forever lost behind an impenetrable brain fog. You wracked and sifted through your fragmented memories, but pieced together nothing.

The first few rays of light began to peak over the horizon, streaming into the room in gentle waves; you squinted your eyes, still unused to any light source brighter than a candle. As your vision slowly readjusted to the brightening room, your eyes caught sight of something that almost sent you back to sleep.

Your fingers tightly entwined with Dimitri’s.

Your weak heart thundered loudly in your ears-- so loud, in fact, you worried that it would be enough to rouse the slumbering prince. As cautiously as you could, your body writhed itself in a futile attempt to sit yourself up. You kept a careful eye on the prince, noting how dark the circles under his eyes have become and how hollow his cheeks have turned. The fact that rest had eluded him for however long you were unconscious was as plain as day.

You shifted your stiff legs a bit; the frame of your bed let out a booming groan.

Dimitri quietly snorted and his neck reeled upwards; alarmed blue eyes met with equally alarmed (E/C). The veins in Dimitri’s neck swam to the surface of his skin, growing more and more defined as every choking second passed.

“H-...” You began. “Hi...”

“(F/N)!”

Your surroundings whizzed right past you before you were unceremoniously slammed into something solid but so, so... warm.

Ah...

You remembered now.

This tenderness.

This contentment.

This warmth.

Dimitri held you in his arms, stroking your hair and mumbling rushed whispers as he did the day you fell.

“(F/N)... Oh, (F/N)...”

You felt how hard and rapid his heart was beating, almost deafening the incoherent whispers he sighed into your hair. Your arms weakly wrapped around his heaving back, rubbing it as soothingly as you could. He pulled you closer in response-- closer, closer, closer, until every inch of you was smothered by him. Hesitant, trembling fingers graced your tightly wound bandages and you felt something warm and wet splatter onto your exposed shoulder.

“Dimitri...” You pulled away slightly to look up at him and smiled. “It’s okay... I’m okay...”

“(F/N), I--” Clear, shiny beads of remorse pricked the corners of the prince’s eyes. “I’m so sorry. Goddess, I am so sorry, I... I’m so--”

You reached a finger to his lips, your heart splintering into tinier and tinier pieces as you watched the man you love slur apology after apology for a crime he did not commit.

“It’s okay, Dimitri... I'm okay now... I’ll be okay.”

The door quietly clicked open and a slender leg slipped itself into the tiny crack. The rest of Manuela slid in, along with a tray of vials and herbs.

“Oh--!” The healer tripped on her own two feet, dropping the tray and all of its contents onto the ground. She stumbled over the tied wad of herbs and leaking bottles of medicine that she had so desperately haggled from a travelling merchant.

“(F-F/N)?” She stuttered, slowly closing the distance between you two. “H-How are you feeling?”

“Um, w-well...” You peered down sheepishly, suddenly becoming very aware of the... intimate position you were in. “I am a bit achy all over but--”

“Ah!” Dimitri immediately released you from his arms and he shot out of his stool, almost tripping backwards. “P-Please forgive me! I was so caught up with my emotions, I did not even ask for your consent to hold you in such a way, a-and your wounds--!”

“Oh! N-No, Dimitri, it’s all right! I-- Uh--”

A rich chuckle from the older woman padded the shrill squeaks that poured out of you and your house leader.

“Well, Prince Dimitri... I’m afraid you can’t have her just yet. I still have to do a thorough check up on her. But after that... she’s all yours.”

Scarlet seeped into the royal’s cheeks, his sickly pallor bursting into hearty ruddiness. Broken vowels tumbled out of him as he clumsily rested his arse back onto the wooden stool.

“Actually Prince Dimitri,” Manuela began as she checked your vitals, “can you notify the professor that (F/N) has awakened?”

“You can count on me, Ms. Manuela.” Dimitri dutifully stood up and bowed. “I will deliver the news to Professor Byleth.”

Casting one last glance at you and bashfully looking down when he caught your eye, Dimitri hurried out of the infirmary to complete possibly the most important mission ever entrusted to him.

♠ ♥ ♣ ----------------------------------------------------------- ♣ ♥ ♠

After your awakening, your classmates and professor began incorporating regular infirmary visits into their schedule. They showered you with kind, encouraging words and occasionally bore small gifts, constantly reminding you that they were right alongside you on your road to recovery.

But your most frequent visitor of all was your beloved house leader.

Every morning, without fail, he would grace your presence with the pleasant aroma of freshly prepared breakfast.

Every afternoon-- after class and training-- he spent his days with you, informing and personally tutoring you over concepts the class learned that day. Or simply providing his company, ensuring that the sinking and crushing feeling of loneliness never found residence in your heart.

Every evening, after all of his academic and princely duties have been met, he delivered your dinner trays with a sparkle in his eye and a smile on his lips.

"Is everything all right? Is there anything else you would like to go over from today’s lesson? If not, perhaps I can fetch you a glass of water in case you grow parched during the night.”

“Dimitri,” you laughed as you slowly rested your weary back on freshly-fluffed pillows, “you’re just downright spoiling me! I’m going to miss all this special treatment when I’m finally discharged.”

“W-Well, I would be more than happy to continue doing this long after you have been discharged.” Dimitri coughed. “I love-- er, rather, I find my time with you to be quite enjoyable.”

“Even though you’re constantly running around and fetching me whatever my heart desires?” You giggled.

“Why, of course! Seeing you content and well brings me insurmountable joy.”

“You’re so thoughtful, Dimitri.” You couldn’t help but grin after seeing how flushed his face turned. “Thank you so much for everything. You and all the other Lions have made my time in the infirmary so much more bearable. It’s... nice to feel loved like this.”

“You are loved, (F/N).” Dimitri threw the thin blanket over you. “You are an integral part to our house... and... t-to me.”

“Pardon?” You leaned forward, hoping to catch whatever he stuttered.

“N-Nothing. Please do not worry yourself over it. It is not very important.” He shot you a reassuring smile before your bandages entered his field of vision. Shame streaked across his features; his hold on the edge of the blanket loosened as he unconsciously stepped away from you.

“Dimitri...” You reached out for him, hoping he would take your hand as he always did. The prince kept his distance however, refusing to even look at you.

“(F/N)... (F/N), I’m--”

“Dimitri,” you raised your palm, “stop.”

Pure, unmasked horror bruised his handsome features.

“I-I apologize if I have offended you in some way--”

“It’s not that. It’s...” You sighed, closing your eyes. “Dimitri... What happened that day is not your fault. There is not a single drop of rage or bitterness in my heart. I can’t forgive you, simply because I was never mad at you to begin with. So please... Don’t look so pained when you see my bandages.”

Your stomach knotted painfully as a second alternative was made clear in your mind.

“Unless... Perhaps my wounds disgust you in some way...”

“Goddess, no!” Dimitri interjected immediately. “That cannot possibly be further from the truth. Your beauty has never waned-- not even for a second.”

The royal’s hand flew to cover his mouth while you both peered at each other, sharing the same shocked expression on your faces. Dimitri had never possessed such a strong desire to catapult himself into the sun. He remained frozen in fear, unsure how or if he could even save himself from his slip.

You tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear and looked down, the corners of your lips slightly turned upward. Dimitri found it unnecessary to fling himself into the sun since his cheeks had practically burst into flames at this point.

“O-Oh... Um... Thank you...” You managed to mumble, fidgeting with your blanket sheepishly.

“Um--!” Dimitri cleared his throat, jumped out of his seat, and bowed deeply. “I-It is getting quite late, is it not? I am afraid I must retire for the evening. Goodnight (F-F/N).”

The upper half of his body snapped downward in another deep bow as the prince hastily retreated from his social blunder. When the door clicked closed, you had all but broken into laughter. You pleasantly recalled Manuela’s previous remark towards the prince, and your heart danced in your chest.

“Your beauty has never waned-- not even for a second.”

You buried your face in your palms and let out a quiet, airy scream, a delightful rush of emotions coursing through you. You laughed almost maniacally to yourself, and you were certain if someone were to walk in on you right this moment they would think you had gone absolutely mad. Look at you! Acting like an antsy little schoolgirl! How embarrassing!

Then again, there should be no shame in experiencing such highs. Especially when it’s related to Dimitri! You gingerly twisted your body so you that you were face-first into your pillow before letting out a happy, muffled scream.

Meanwhile, Dimitri was marching back to his room, head down and thankful that at least the cover of night was enough to hide the flushed tone of his face. Like you, he replayed that one line-- that little slip of his tongue-- in his head over and over again. Unlike you, he wished to chain his feet to a cinder block and toss himself into the lake. Hopefully the fish would be willing to share the same space with an idiot of his caliber.

Still, even as he flung himself into the comforting embrace of his bed, his thoughts couldn’t help but drift to your response to his idiocy. The way you looked down, smiling gently at his words, the tips of your ears adopting a shade of baby pink...

You were so...

So...

Cute...!

Dimitri subjected his poor pillow to a bone-crushing hug as he buried his face in the mushy thing, imagining the soft, velvety texture of his pillow to be your skin and the warmth of the stuffed fabric to be your body pressed flushed against his.

Racing thoughts and rose-tinted fantasies propelled you both further and further away from Sleep, who desperately sought out her sleepless prince and fidgety (Favorite Class). When Sleep finally took hold of you, she could do little to obstruct the joyous meeting you both shared with each other in the forgotten land of dreams.

♠ ♥ ♣ ----------------------------------------------------------- ♣ ♥ ♠

“Are you ready, (F/N)?”

You met Manuela’s steady gaze with your own. With a firm nod, you replied,

“Yes.”

The healer moved closer to you, her skilled hands undoing the set of bandages for the last time. Dimitri averted his frantic eyes to the wall when the dressing loosened just enough for your chest to peak through. A cold, unforgiving breeze whipped the newly exposed skin, jolting a shiver down your spine. Manuela clicked her tongue softly and slowly traced your shoulder.

“The wound’s all healed, but I’m afraid this scar’s here to stay...”

Your eyes immediately flashed over to Dimitri’s stiffening frame.

“I see...”

“You can apply certain creams on site to reduce its appearance, but it’ll never go away completely... I’m sorry, (F/N).”

“It’s all right, Ms. Manuela.” You flashed her a controlled smile. “Honestly, with all the regular outings to dispel bandits and whatnot... It was only a matter of time before I bore my first battle scar.”

Manuela’s lips curved upward and she patted you on your unmarked shoulder.

“Do you need anything else, (F/N)? Some water, or food?”

You hummed thoughtfully, then shook your head.

“All right. Should you need anything, all you have to do is holler.” Manuela gave you one last smile before excusing herself from the room.

Dimitri stood unmoving and unblinking, countering your hard stare with blatant refusal to look at your scar-- a physical memento of his failure.

“Dimitri.”

The prince visibly recoiled at the sound of his own name.

“Look at me.”

His jaw clenched tautly; his eyes crunched into a pain-stricken wince.

“Look at me, please.”

He refused.

“I don’t blame you for this.”

. . .

“And I’ll never blame you for it.”

. . .

“If it means saving you, I’ll gladly do it again.”

This struck a chord with the prince, his enraged face suddenly mere inches away from yours.

“Don’t you dare say such a thing.” He growled lowly. “I will not allow you to throw your life away for me.”

“Dimitri...” You cupped his cheek in your hand, in which he immediately melted into. “I’ll gladly do it again because... Because... I love you.”

Not a moment later did you feel something warm and soft press against your lips. The tips of his bangs lightly dusted the surface of your skin, tickling your nose with the crisp smell of Faerhgus pine. A pair of gloved hands caught either side of your face, thumbs rubbing shallow circles into your cheeks as he pressed his lips further into yours. His mouth moved sloppily but lovingly, awkwardly yet ardently adoringly against yours; a medley of celestial colors you’ve never seen before flashed brilliantly at the forefront of your mind, casting you into a dreamlike stupor.

Dimitri leapt back, panic stewing in his deep briny blues. His fingers brushed his still-tingling lips as he bowed lowly.

“F-Forgive me (F/N), I-.. I have no idea what possessed me to do such a thing! I suppose I was just, um, c-caught in the moment and--?!”

More than tired of hearing his apologies, you grabbed his shirt’s collar and jerked him back to where he was before-- contently and firmly pressed right against your lips. Your fingers bunched themselves into patches of velvety, wispy gold while your lips moved sanguinely against his, happily leading your mouth and his in a spicy dance. A small moan escaped your slightly opened lips and Dimitri, consumed by nothing but base desires, surprised your tongue with a face-to-face meeting.

The wet muscle wrapped about yours, pulling you into an unyielding fight for dominance. You felt smooth sheets hit your exposed back; you hadn’t even noticed Dimitri progressively lowering the both of you onto your bed. He planted his hands on either side of your body, ridding any hope of escape from his ravaging kisses.

Not that you wanted to anyway.

Dimitri’s lips left yours to wander around your face and neck, taking particular interest in the latter. He nipped the exposed skin, teething and sucking wherever his heart desired until you were covered in nothing but love bites.

Then he caught sight of your cleavage, simply irresistible and downright begging to be marked with his love.

Then he suddenly remembered that you two were in a very public place and not in the private confines of his bedroom or dreams.

“Ah-- Um--” Dimitri stammered, quickly pulling away from your panting form. “P-Perhaps we should... stop... before it escalates any further...”

You whined, wanting nothing more than to be showered with kisses and bathed in his worshiping love. But your senses, hazy as they may be, pulled through the fog and coldly reminded you of your current whereabouts.

“Fine...” You pulled his fingers to your sultry lips and pressed a hot kiss on each digit. Dimitri’s jaw and pants tightened, the prince desperately clinging onto the last thread of sanity and reason which threatened to snap at any moment.

“My Beloved,” he purred sweetly, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek, “rest now. When your strength returns to its fullest, we can pick up where we left off. I swear it.”

You giggled, finding his attempt at being serious too adorable. The heat and passion was still very visible in his eyes, and it was obvious that anymore teasing on your end would send him over the edge.

You nodded sleepily as he pulled the covers over you. He graced your lips with one more kiss before he stood up.

“Class will be starting shortly. Do you need anything before I go?”

“Mm...” You looked up coyly. “One more kiss, please!”

Dimitri chuckled, happily fulfilling both of your wishes.

“My Beloved is too cute for her own good...” He murmured huskily into your ear. “It should be a crime to be this captivating.”

“Then maybe you should punish me tonight~?”

“T-That’s...” Dimitri’s smug confidence had instantly dissipated. “S-Sleep well, (F/N).”

You had never seen a person’s cheeks go so red so fast. Dimitri zoomed out of the infirmary with a chorale of laughter bubbling out of his beloved.

Not a moment later after the door closed, it opened again just enough for the prince’s head to pop back in.

“Oh, uh, (F/N)?”

“Yes, darling?”

“I...” He cleared his throat loudly and shyly smiled. “I love you too.”

bonus: your discharge from the infirmary prompted a day of celebration in the blue lions house, with byleth cancelling lectures and training for the day to celebrate your miraculous recovery.

the rest of the lions organized a mini ‘welcome back’ party; the desks that previously held books and other study things now harbored all your favorite dishes on one side and a cluster of gifts on the other.

and when the sun dipped below the horizon, well... let’s just say dimitri made good on his promise from that night onward ;)

#fire emblem #dimitri fire emblem #fire emblem x reader #dimitri x reader #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #fe3h dimitri #fe3h #6039 words #yOU GUYS #i love this man sm #it got pretty ~smexy~ towards the end #( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)#fire emblem three houses fanfiction #fire emblem three houses

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ikenbar · 3 years

Text

Mr. Love: Ike’s Choice CH4 PT1

Warnings: Blood, serious injuries, burn wounds, heartache, foreshadowing, Victor ANGSTTT (prepare for that the rest of this chapter to be that way >:D), and a very tedious yet oddly intriguing cliffhanger >:D

(Chapter Four (Victor and Gavin) Prologue, and part two coming soon!)

Please read the author’s note (and the beginning of the story) on chapter one part one if you’re new here :D

Chapter four:

Part one:

In a bright, white room was my queen.

She sat in a large throne wearing a large crown and a beautiful black dress, seemingly dripping with elegance. She waved to me, face remaining emotionless. I approached her without hesitation and bowed to her, the metal from my armor bouncing the light from the room onto her face, making a sort of halo around her already shining eyes. I looked away, feeling unworthy of such light. She put her hand on my arm. I looked up.

She had changed. She was just a child now, no longer wearing her black dress and instead in a strange and… familiar jumpsuit. Her grip was tight on my sleeve, causing me to notice that I had changed into my usual work uniform. I steadied the little girl in my arms. What was wrong? Who hurt her? Tears dripped from the bangs that veiled her eyes. I pulled her close to me involuntarily. She mouthed something to me. Something that she used to say to me all the time. A name she used to call me by.

My heart stopped…

>>>

A bright light shone through my eyelids, making me tense my eyebrows and lifting me slowly back to consciousness and away from that strange dream. I opened my eyes slowly to a vast expanse of a white tiled ceiling. A horrible feeling crept through my throat, giving me the sharp urge to cough. I suppressed it as a gurgling sound came from above me. An oxygen tank hung above my head and monitors with blinking lights displayed themselves around me.

The haze cleared from my head and flashes of distorted images played in my mind. An upside down desk, a large fire, a tall man running up to me,… blood. Lots of blood.

I had shoved my desk over the mask and ran to the door to warn everyone of what was to come. I didn’t make it too far before the bomb had gone off and lit my office a flame. The desk was thrown at me, Crashing into my head and knocking me out on impact. When I came to, smoke had filled the office and it had spread throughout the building. The sounds of crying and screams filled the air. I threw the desk off of me and ran the rest of the way out of the office. I was quick to help as I came across scared and injured employees, ignoring the large burn I had gotten from the explosion. I moved furniture and encouraged people to find an exit but to do so as low as they could. I should have heeded my own words as smoke started filling my lungs and I started to hallucinate. There was a point I could have sworn the world had frozen in time and I was the only one moving. Everything around me seemed to be getting more twisted and mangled until finally I saw a bright light. I moved towards it and fell into the hands of…

My head felt heavy as I turned it to a desk in the corner of the room. A familiar figure sat at it, suit black and clean with his raven hair to match. He held a stern look on his face as he stared at a folder in his hands, knuckles white from how firmy he had been gripping it.

Victor.

I sat up quickly, causing my head to spin wildly. I groaned and clutched it. A chair screeched from next to me and footsteps came rapidly to my side.

“Hey,” Victor said softly, patting my back, “Don’t rush yourself.” I squinted against the pain and looked up at Victor. His eyebrows were in a tight knot as his eyes searched for peace in mine. “Are you alright?” He asked, words meaning more than just the headache. My stare lingered for a moment as I thought about what to say.

“I…” I grumbled. Victor leaned closer as he intently listened to what I had to say, “I... I am going to need an extension on your report.” Victor looked at me strangely for a moment. Then he sighed. His shoulders sagged and his face relaxed. He raised his hand and placed it onto my head.

“Dummy.” Victor whispered and he patted my head softly. The gentle motion made me freeze. But, even though my body had tensed up, I could feel the anxieties about the fire start to ease. I opened my mouth to quip further, but I stopped. The scratchiness in my throat had become more prominent the more I spoke. I cleared my throat, which I instantly regretted as the pain only increased. Victor must have sensed my discomfort.

“How’s your throat?” He asked seriously.

“Dry I guess.” My voice cracked.

“I’ll bring back some water after I get the doctor.” Victor said, pushing me back down on the bed. He pulled the covers up and over my body so that just my head was poking out of it, “Try to stay down.”

I grunted, throat hurting too much to say much more. Victor lingered by my side a bit longer before finally hurrying to the door.

I watched him leave, listening closely as his footsteps disappeared down the hall. I sat back up in bed. As much I would have liked to just lay there and wait for Victor, I couldn’t let other people work to fix what happened.

The sudden movement caused my throat’s scratchiness to become unbearable. Unable to take much more, I finally let out a couple of coughs. I felt debris push through my throat, scratching it even further and causing it to feel worse than before. My headache also worsened with the coughs, pulsing just behind my eyes and verberating through my skull. I groaned and moved to hold my head in my hands… but stopped. An unusual resistance pulled at my left shoulder. Curious, I pulled at the neckline of my hospital gown and looked down. My shoulder had been wrapped thoroughly with a clean white bandage. I thought for a second then an image of a burning desk flying towards me flashed through my mind. When it knocked me out, It must have caught my shirt a flame, scorching my shoulder in the process. I slouched slightly. Once again I was thankful for the nerve damage in my arm. I thought again about what had happened. This time, just before the explosion.

The black mask with the green scarab.

I didn’t think Montu would try to take me down again so soon after the last attempt. I guess I could never really understand what was going through a psychopath's mind, but why was he targeting me? Who out there wants me to hurt so bad that they’d try to bomb my office?

I flinched.

Dylan.

The man I had fired just before the mugging with Sam. He said I would regret firing him. But how would he be able to know I was going to fire him two weeks before I actually did it? After all, that’s when Hickman said he was hired, so he had to know by then that I would fire him. But I didn’t even know I was going to fire him then. How could he? But he was the only one with a vendetta against me… right?

I sighed and directed my attention to the desk Victor was sitting at. A stack of papers and files sat next to a dimly lit laptop. Hopefully I hadn’t been out for too long. Kiro’s filming was going to be-...

I froze.

I was on the phone with Kiro before the explosion.

I groaned and slid my hands through my hair. I hope I didn’t worry him. Let alone miss our filming arrangements. I shoved off my blankets aggressively with my left hand. As I did so, I heard a slight pop come from my shoulder. I quickly looked down at it. I rotated my shoulder. Then prodded at the wound. I didn’t feel any pain or see any bleeding. It should be fine… right?

I nodded to myself and removed the oxygen mask from my face, as well as the other various pieces of tech from my body. Then I stood up and walked over to the desk.

I bent down to look at the laptop screen. There had to be a date somewhere on here. If I could just find it, I would-

Something yellow shone at the corner of my eye. I looked up. Just behind a small stack of files was a small yellow bowl. Inside it sat a small spoon with a lion’s head sticking out of the end of it. It seemed so childish amongst the busy work and intimidating looking files. I frowned and picked up the bowl. I recognized them. That was Maria’s bowl. That was my spoon. What was Victor doing with it?

Just as I placed the bowl back down, the door opened again. Victor walked briskly into the room, holding a cup in his hand with a cap and a straw. My mouth became drier with anticipation.

Victor saw me at his desk and froze. “I thought I told you to stay down.” Victor’s voice was forceful as he quickly walked over to me. I opened my mouth to retort but ended up taking in too much dry air. I started coughing again, this time harsher than the last. I covered my mouth quickly, hoping not to get any germs on Victor’s work. Victor took me by the arm and pulled back to the bed. I complied, closing my eyes as water filled them. I sat down and wheezed. My throat and mouth filled with a strange thick liquid. At first I resisted it but, as the liquid coated the pain in my throat, a sense of relief began to overcome me. A hand rubbed my back but I was quick to wave it away.

Eventually I was able to calm myself enough to open my eyes, letting tears stream from them freely. I looked up and found a middle aged doctor standing in front of me. Victor just behind him, the knot in his eyebrows the tightest I had ever seen. I swallowed and clutched the hand over my mouth into a fist. Something wet squished in it. I looked down at my palm. A large pool of a dark red liquid dripped from it. It was then that I noticed the taste of iron so prominently in my mouth

“Well,” I wheezed, “That can’t be good.”

“Don’t worry!” The doctor said quickly, motioning behind me and to a nurse, “Since your throat is so dry, what debris you have in your lungs will cut you as you cough. It’s nothing we can’t fix with some water and a bit of patience.” The nurse behind me handed the doctor a wet towel, which the doctor took and cleaned my hand carefully. “Mr. Li.” The doctor addressed Victor with an open hand. I looked at him. His eyes were wide and the look of worry had only further increased, which seemed almost impossible before. His grip on the cup had increased, showing witness around his knuckles and a slight shaking of the water inside. His free hand was in his pocket and, from the projudance of it, it looked as if it were balled in a tight fist.

Snapping to, Victor looked over to the doctor and wordlessly handed him the cup of water. “Thank you!” The doctor politely said, taking it and handing it to me with a smile, “Now Miss. Bikira, I want you to drink at least three cups of water today.”

“Alright.” I said hoarsely, reaching for the cup.

“Also, I want you to try not to speak for the remainder of the day.”

I scoffed and glared at the doctor. I began to say something but the doctor promptly stopped me as he shoved the straw of the cup in my mouth. “It’s for your own good.” He lectured, pushing the cup in my hand. I pouted and took a swig of the water. The water washed the taste of iron from my mouth and flowed smoothly down my throat, stinging the cuts as it passed them. I sighed in relief and took a few more drinks.

“Now,” The doctor stood up, “I’m going to ask you some yes or no questions. All you have to do is nod or shake your head in response, alright?” I nodded. The doctor smiled with satisfaction and held out a hand to me. I looked at him questionably. “I’m afraid I can’t do the examination with a cup in your hands.” The doctor’s smile never wavered. Neither did my frown.

“Ike.” A soft voice came from behind the doctor. I looked over to see Victor staring at me. His face was resolute, nothing like it was before, almost making it seem like I had imagined the look before. I tried to muster up a face to match Victor’s but, after a minute, I relaxed and sighed. There was no use fighting both doctor and Captain Capitalist.

I gave the cup to the doctor who handed it to Victor. He then waved to the nurse again. She appeared next to me, wheeling in a cart full of instruments towards us. I flinched involuntarily. For some reason, the sight of such tools sent shivers up my spine. The doctor walked closer to the nurse, discussing something in hushed tones. I felt something warm come over my hand. I jumped and looked down. A large and familiar hand had covered mine. I looked up and met Victor’s eyes. He still looked worried but, more than anything, he looked to be determined of something. Seeing him this way made my uneasiness wash away.

And, with that, the doctor began his examination. He asked me questions as he worked, making sure I was fully responsive and showing no signs of a concussion. Victor didn’t let go of my hand the whole time the doctor worked. Occasionally he would offer me the water. Never once did I refuse a drink and never once did he waver with the cup. Seeing Victor like this gave me a strange sense of familiarity. I couldn’t pin point from where but, I couldn’t quite shake the feeling.

Everything seemed to be just fine with me until the doctor had begun unraveling the bandage on my shoulder. I watched him as he worked, nervous to see what happened to me. As he unraveled each layer, they became progressively more and more dense with fresh blood. Victor’s hand suddenly gripped mine tighter. I looked up in time to see Victor reach for my face, moving to block me from seeing the shoulder. I dodged his attack and arched my eyebrow as if to say, ‘What? Don’t think I can handle it?’ Victor’s face became darker. I immediately dropped my expression. I quickly looked down at my arm as the doctor removed the last of the bandage. A large portion of my shoulder was coated with blood and was missing a layer of skin. It looked tender as new blood came from it, making it clear what exactly that pop from earlier had been. I gulped. I had seen myself get hurt before but nothing like this. A strange feeling washed over my body. One that made me feel like the shoulder I was looking at, wasn’t my own.

A large hand appeared in front of me and rested on my cheek. It pulled me away from the scene and back onto Victor. “Dummy.” He croaked, pinching my cheek slightly, “Are you satisfied?” From the tone he was trying to play, it sounded as if Victor was trying to lighten the mood. But from the grip on my hand and the cloud in his eyes, I knew he was more disturbed then I was about the injury.

Without responding, I squeezed Victor’s fingers. He looked down at them then back up at me. I smiled and nodded in a way that told him, ‘I’m fine. Don’t worry.’ Victor’s expression softened, as did his hold on my hand.

The doctor wrapped up my arm again and brought the examination to a close. “Well, Miss. Bikira,” he began, “Besides the large burn on your shoulder, you have a few minor burns and a lot of debris in your lungs. We want you to stay here for observation and rest for a few days.”

“Days?!” I raised my voice, making my throat burn. Victor shoved the straw to my water back into my mouth. I waved him away and kept my eyes on the doctor.

“Yes, five days. At least.” the doctor sighed, “And please refrain from speaking, Miss.”

“I have business I need to take care of.” I persisted in my regular tone, “My office was burnt down. I need to-” The straw re-entered my mouth again, cutting me off. I growled and whipped my head to face Victor.

“You need to be quiet.” He finished my sentence for me, looking at me with a fierce expression, “Do you want to stay in the hospital longer than the incisal five days?” I rolled my eyes and swiped the water from Victor’s hand.

“I’ll let you rest now.” The doctor bowed and left my bed, “Press the call button if you need anything. And, for the last time, Miss. Bikira, try not to speak. If anything, do so in a whisper.” I pouted but said nothing more.

An awkward silence filled the room as Victor and I were left alone. After some time, I heard a slight screech from the chair next to my bed as Victor stood up. “Get some rest.” He said, turning away from me and back to the desk.

“But I can’t!” I whined and drummed my fingers on my cup, “I need to make calls, find a new building, rearrange… some..-” I started coughing again.

“Stop talking.” Victor said firmly, turning back to me and pushing the water close to my mouth, “You’re going to start bleeding again.” I huffed and placed my head on the top of the cup, a lump growing in my throat. Bart’s dream had gone up in flames because of me and I couldn’t even do anything to fix it! Why did I, of all people, have to sit idly by and wait!? What had Bart done so far to fix things?! Hell, was he hurt?! Did everyone make it out?! Did I miss someone in the fire?!? Where was Bart?!!

“I’m here.” Victor’s voice yanked me from my darkening thoughts, making me jump. I whip my head up to lock eyes with him. He was looking at me seriously but there was an obvious sense of comfort laced in his strict features. “I’ll take care of those things personally with Bart. You don’t have anything to worry about. All you have to do now is heal.” Paused, unsure of what to say next. At that moment, I was finally able to get a good look at his face. His eyes were slightly red and soft dark bags sat under them.

“How long was I out?” I whispered. Victor paused.

“... Two days.” He finally said. My eyes widened. Two days… I slumped into my bed, trying to calm my racing mind.

“I thought I was stronger.” One of my thoughts leaked through my mouth without me realizing it. Victor’s hand twitched.

“...What?”

I jumped and kept my head down. “I-I thought… I was stronger than this. A fire left me bedridden for two days. I was almost certain I… was…” The air around me suddenly got tense. I looked up at Victor. I instinctively tensed up.

I had never seen him so furious.

“You had been in the fire and smoke for thirty minutes before coming out.” Victor’s tone had become deep, dark, and intense. I jumped in my seat, “Not only could you have gotten trapped in a burning building but you had spent all of your time helping others instead of taking care of yourself! Do you have any idea how much damage you could have done to your body?!”

“I’m not going to let my employees suffer if I can do something about it!” My voice rose to match Victor’s. My throat burned in protest but I wasn’t going to back down, “How can you expect me to take care of myself when my employee’s lives were in danger?!”

“Your life was in danger!” Victor threw his hands up in protest, “Your company wouldn’t be able to go on without you in it!”

“My company isn’t important! The lives of literally hundreds of people were!”

“Who are you to put a price on a human soul?! What makes other people’s lives more important than yours?!”

“Because I am the reason my company burst to flame in the first place!!” I regretted saying the words as soon as they left my mouth. Victor’s eyes widened. I grimaced and looked away from him. The chair next to my bed creaked as Victor slowly sat back down into it. I raised my hand to my mouth and bit my nail nervously.

“... What do you mean ‘you are the reason?’” Victor gravely asked. I ignored his question and avoided his eyes further. “Ike.” Victor raised his voice, “What did you mean by-”

The room door banged open as someone came running in. I looked up and saw a small, breathless, teenage boy standing in the doorway. He was dressed in a school uniform with a heavy looking backpack hung carelessly from one of his arms. His brown bangs clung onto the sweat on his forehead as he looked at me with wide eyes. Eyes that read plenty of complex emotions past their hazel exterior. “Sam?” I gasped. Sam’s eyes lit up and a wide grin spread through his cheeks.

“Ike!” Sam shouted, throwing his backpack into a corner of the room. He ran to the bed and into my arms. The sharp impact on my chest caused me to wheeze and cough harshly. Victor stood up.

“Careful of the arm.” Victor boomed. Sam jumped back and let me go.

“S-sorry!” He squeaked, pushing himself further down the bed, “Are you ok?! I didn’t hurt you, did I?!” I didn’t reply. I could barely hear him. Instead I looked over Sam seriously, looking for any scrapes or burns. For any sign he was anywhere near the fire.

“...Ike?” He asked, tilting his head and covering his mouth slightly, “Are you-” I grabbed Sam’s arm and pulled him into a tight embrace. Sam froze.

“Thank goodness you’re ok.” I sighed, leaning back into the bed with Sam in my arms. Sam stayed in place a moment longer, then he wrapped his arms carefully around my neck, hugging me back.

“I. was. so. Worried.” Sam’s voice was slightly muffled as he held me tighter, “Dad told me about what happened when I came home from school and Maria and Adri were crying-”

“I was not crying.” Another voice chimed from the doorway. I looked up and caught Adri’s eyes as she walked into the room. She threw her backpack into the same corner as Sam’s as she glared at her brother, “There was just-... something in my eyes.”

“Yeah, tears.” Ashton pushed past Adri and walked into the room after her, eyes glued to his phone, “Hey, Ike.” I nodded to him but it was for nothing as he kept his eyes down. He took a seat at the desk and avoided any eye contact with the rest of the room. Victor watched Ashton as he sat down, eyeing him curiously.

“Samuel Lee, don’t you ever run like that on your own again!” A strong motherly voice came from behind the door. Maria came barging in, also pushing past Adri, and came trudging to my bed, “It doesn’t matter what the doctor tells us! We always stick together and you-” Maria locked eyes with me. Tears welled in them as she ran to my side. She held her hand over me, struggling to find a way to address me. I carefully pushed Sam away from me and held out my hand to her. Maria beamed and ran into my chest.

“Oh, Evie,” Maria said through the obvious lump in her throat, “I am so glad you’re awake!!” I opened my mouth but with how much weight that had been pushed against my chest, I started coughing again. Sam and Maria jumped away from me, giving me room to breathe. Victor handed me my cup again. I sipped on it, silencing the room for a moment.

“...I should be going.” Victor stood from his chair.

“You sure?” I choked, “You can stay if you-” Victor pushed the drink closer to my lips.

“What part of ‘stop talking’ is hard for you to understand?” Victor growled indignantly. I raised one of my eyebrows. Victor sighed and moved away from my bed and to the desk, “I have business I need to attend to.” Victor turned to my family, “Be wry of her shoulder and be sure she stops straining her throat.” Everyone nodded with determination.

“Yes sir.” Sam said seriously, "I'll be sure she stays down and quiet! Favorite brother's honor!!" Everyone glanced at Ashton. He merely shrugged and kept his eyes on his phone. Victor nodded to Sam then faced me.

“Ike, don’t think you have avoided our conversation.” His tone was the same sternness from before. I felt my shoulder tense. Victor turned away from me again and took the coat that hung from the back of his chair, carefully pushing Ashton forward as he did so. Ashton mindlessly complied, not wavering his attention from his phone for a second. “I’ll be back to pick up my things later." Victor said, slinging on his coat one arm at a time, "Enjoy the time with your family. And, for goodness sakes, Ikamara, will you try to keep your mouth shut?”

“Yes sir.” I whispered, rolling my eyes. Victor’s stare lingered on me a little longer before he finally left the room, closing the door behind him.

Silence overcame all of us. “So,” I tried to break the ice, keeping my voice in a whisper, “Where’s Bart?”

“He’s working on reorganizing the company.” Maria walked around and sat down in the chair Victor had been sitting in.

“Since you’ve been out, he’s been working nights to get everything back in order.” Adri came closer as well, taking the doctor’s stool from the other side of the bed.

I sighed, “I wish I could have woken up sooner.”

“Evie,” Maria smiled and caressed my hair softly, “Don’t blame yourself. You couldn’t help this. Besides, Victor has been a lot of help.” I raised a curious eyebrow.

“Oh?” I straightened my posture, “How so?”

“He didn’t tell you?” Sam smiled brightly, “Victor offered you guys space in his big building!” My heart jumped, “He apparently had places for people to work in temporarily. Dad said it was only until your office gets rebuilt.” I stared at Sam. Why would Victor do such a thing? Wouldn’t it just be more trouble for him?

“He also stayed here to watch over you.” Adri’s voice had a slight teasing tone. I whipped my head around to face her. She had raised an eyebrow and her lips curved into a smirk, “He was always here when we visited and sometimes we would find him waiting outside or talking to doctors.” My cheeks burned, causing Adri’s smirk to widen, “So, that makes two handsome men who will come to your beck and call? How lucky are you?”

“Excuse me!?” I scoffed, “What are you-”

“Three!” Sam spoke up smirking just as evily as Adri, “She also has a neighbor who is a police officer who was all over her last I heard!” My face flushed as I opened my mouth to argue, but my words were buried as my thoughts wondered. I had to call Gavin and let him know about the case. I couldn’t hide the fact I was being targeted from him for much longer. He had to find out at sometime. Especially if it meant being able to use the resources of the police department with it…

But that would also mean there would be a chance that I would get kicked off the case. If Gavin was willing to put his life in danger to keep my title of an evolver safe, who knows what he would do if I told him I personally was being targeted… Still, I should call him and let him know that I’m alright. Hopefully he finds the fact I was blown up twice within a few weeks funny. I hope the joke will land over the phone… the phone…

A memory came to mind. One of my phone falling from my hand just before the explosion.

Kiro.

I needed to tell him what happened and let him know where we are going from that point on in the production of the show… that is, once I get the information for it. I should also let him know I’m ok. He was on the phone with me when it happened. I probably scared him really bad. If not for the fact that I was hurt, then for the sound of an explosion itself. I hope I didn’t affect his work or him too badly…. work...

Lucien had gone on a business trip not too long ago. I wonder if he knew about the explosion. I wonder if he was worried. Although, after the date I had given him, I wouldn’t blame him if he was more relieved then worried. Still, I should give him a call. Let him know what happened and that I was fine.

I looked over to the phone on my bedside table. The question became, who would I call first?

“Ashton, your chess club starts soon.” Maria checked her phone for the time, “I need to get you home so you can change.”

“Don’t worry!” Sam spoke up and swung his arms back around my neck, “Adri and I can stay and watch Ike!”

“You, mister, promised to mow Mrs. Montenegro's lawn.” Maria patted Ashton’s back so that he would stand up, “You need to get home before it gets dark.” Sam groaned and slouched childishly. “Come on.” Maria ushered Ashton to the door. Sam gave me one last hug before jumping off of the bed.

“I’m glad to see you’re doing ok.” Maria kissed my cheek, “Adri, would you like to come home?”

“Nah.” Adri spun in her stool, “It’ll be nice to relax here in the quiet.”

“You mean, working on your school work?” Maria glared at Adri. Adri stopped spinning and smiled at Maria cheekily. Maria rolled her eyes and looked back at me. “Try to relax, alright, Evie?” I nodded, still slightly lost in thought. Maria gave my hand one last squeeze before walking the two boys out of the room. Adri stood up and took the chair Maria had left, slouching into it and pulling out her phone. She didn’t seem to want to have a conversation.

“Do you mind if I make some phone calls?” I asked her, reaching for the phone on the table next to me. Adri looked up from her phone.

“Didn’t Mr. Victor say you needed to stop talking?” Adri arched her eyebrow, “Do you plan to whisper the whole time?”

“What are you gonna do, tell on me?” I arched my eyebrow back at her.

“I dunno! Maybe!” She looked back at her phone and smiled, “I’d kinda like to see Mr. Victor freak out over you again.” I rolled my eyes and handed her my cup of water. Despite what she said, she complied to my movement, taking my water cup with her phone free hand. I picked up the receiver from the table but hesitated over the keypad. Who would I call first? The superstar who I was on the phone with before the explosion? The cop who is investigating my case? Or the doctor who could get me out of the hospital faster with a few tips?

After a moment to think, I pushed his number in with determination. I took a deep breath and listened to the tantalizingly monotoned dial tone. Half of me wanted him to pick up while the other half of me panicked at the thought of speaking to him.

After the fourth tone played,

someone finally picked up.

(Next)

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