Might I just say @mortemistrata that I was a little unsure about this prompt at first, but I had so much fun writing this!
“Good morning, Keith.”
Keith froze with one eyebrow arched. He slowly studied the brunet in front of him. “No ‘mullet’ this morning?”
“That would be rude,” Lance said, lips curled into a frown.
Keith’s face fell until he was matching the brunet’s expression. “Are you okay?” He zeroed in on small details, like the way Lance’s normally tan skin looked slightly washed out or the dark, bruised circles under Lance’s almost lifeless eyes.
“Of course.” Lance replied, tone even. “We should go before we are late to breakfast.”
Keith absently nodded, brows furrowed deeply, as he followed the brunet into the dining hall.
Okay, guys. Here’s the deal. I have had too many fanfics and other stories just RUINED for me with terrible and painful inaccuracies having to do with basic medical processes and facts… and I just CAN’T anymore. Please, let me help you. PLEASE.
This is way too long, graphic at some points, and really, basically, please send me an ask if you want any basic info on what would happen in a certain situation.
As the girlfriend of a famous mafia leader, you couldn’t really do anything, except for sitting at the home you both shared.
Wonho was always scared that something would happened to you. You were fixed to the apartement you both shared.
Which was okay for the first months.
Wonho ensured hat you had everything you wished for so you wouldn’t feel sad or bored during his absence.
Usually you were sleeping when he came home after work.
But this particular evening you weren’t.
You had just watched the last episode fo your favorite show. Now you were sitting on the sofa with your thoughts still on the death of your favorite character.
Suddenly you heard the front door open.
A little startled you got up to see Wonho standing there, struggling to get off his shoes. At first you wanted to laugh at his poor attempts.
Then you saw the injuries all over his arms and face.
“Wonho!”, you said surprised.
He looked up when he hard his name.
“Why aren’t you sleeping yet?”, he hissed. His voice revealed that he was tired and stressed out.
“Who cares? You’re injured! Here, let me help you!”
“No, Y/N. Go to bed.”
His answer surprised you. Why wouldn’t he accept your help? You knew how to treat wounds right.
Wonho made his way over to the bathroom, without looking at you again.
“Go to bed.”
That would be the last thing you were thinking of right niw.
“No way!” You followed him into the bathroom, where he sat on the closed toilet seat.
His angry glare hit you as soon as you stood near him.
“I don’t need your help, Y/N!” He took off his shirt and thus revealed cuts and bruises all over his body.
“Wonho what happened to you?” In a hurry you quickly got everything you needed to treat his injuries ready, while waiting for his answer.
“We need to disinfect the cuts and put some ointment on them and some of this on your bruises.”
After you lined all tubes, bottles and bandages up, you wanted to start treating him, but he stopped your hand mid-air.
“Go. To. Bed. For the last time. I don’t need your help, really.”
As much as you wanted to help him, you also were hurt in your pride and you love for him. Since he came he only told you to go. As if you just could ignore the fact that he has been hurt. Your tries to help him were crushed by his harsh words. That was enough to make you angry.
“Fine. I’ll got to bed then. Good night, Wonho.”
You turned on your heel and went to your bedroom.
Sad, angry and hurt you crawled in your bed and under your sheets, the scent of Wonho lingering in them.
You heard Wonho’s faint cursing but tried to shut it out.
When he stepped into the bedroom and lied down next to you, you pretended to be sound asleep already.
As he put his arms around you you could feel, that he had treated his injuries just as you would have and you felt a little satisfaction.
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t want you to see these wounds at all. I want you to live peacefully.”, he quitely said, with a light chuckle. “I can’t tell you anything about this, sorry. It would only bing you in danger.”
“Just don’t push me away, Wonho. I want to help you.”, you replied.
“I won’t. I’m sorry.”
____________________________ I dont know why but this took me exremly long. I had this idea for quite some time now. Mafia!AU’s are the best!!
Robin x Reader: The Bird Tattoo~Part Two (Soulmate AU)
A/n: I already have inspiration for a second part, let’s get this show on the road. A LOT longer than part one
You were standing in front of your mirror with your tattoo exposed. You lightly traced it with your finger with a frown, then you sighed. “Why do these things cause such a ruckus?” It seemed like the bird was getting more colorful each day, and the thought of your soulmate being one of the guys on the team made you feel queasy. “That wouldn’t end well at all…”
You heard a knock on your door and you yanked your civilian shirt down, almost ripping it off. “Come in!” You shouted to your unknown visitor.
It’d be a lie if you said you didn’t feel annoyed when Robin stood at your door with a couple text books, pencils, and a stack of papers in his hands. “Can you do us all a favor by not leaving your things everywhere?”
“Can you do me favor by not being impatient? I was changing into civvies, I didn’t think a little patience would hurt the almighty Robin.” You irritatingly snatched the supplies from his hands and placed them on the bed. “So if you’re going to be a keep being a jerk, then get out.” Your tone was harsher than you intended it to be. Harsher than usual, even.
Working desk job means exactly this: apartment, tube, workplace, tube, apartment. It’s hard to find sunlight anymore, but he doesn’t think he minds: maybe he’s already used to this. It’s been longer than he cares to remember.
He spends about two hours a day on the tube - not much compared to the amount of time he spends in his booth at work, but he doesn’t really register those eight hours. It’s like his mind switches itself off the moment he arrives to work and leaves him running on muscle memory alone. Time operates the same way when he’s at home, so by now maybe he’s only really conscious during the two hours on the tube.
Sometimes he stays back on the tube past his stop. Sometimes until it reaches the end of the line. Sometimes he takes the tube with the intention of going somewhere specific, but then just sits there as his destination flies past him into the dark tunnel he’s just passed. Sometimes he goes down into the stop, just to hear the quiet again.
Sometimes he sees maintenance doors somewhere in the tunnels, and for no reason he keeps their locations in mind.
Sometimes the tube takes a turn that he doesn’t recognize, and he feels his heart beating faster all of a sudden. He would stare at the railway through the window pane, counting the seconds, until the tube runs past a corner he knows, or until he reaches his destination. Those moments still happen to him after two years of taking the tube to go… anywhere, really. He thinks he has the whole map learned by heart by now, but the underground keeps proving him wrong.
There’s a community online for tube dwellers. He doesn’t know any of the dozen of members, online or offline, but he has come by some of them on other forums before. They don’t seem to be of any particular profile: there are men, there are women, ranged from 20 to maybe older than 50. The posts are few and far between, but some of them detail everything reachable by the tube. There are things even he doesn’t know.
He screenshots some of the posts and keeps the photos in a separate folder, for no particular reason.
The community hasn’t had a new activity for about three months by now. The members call themselves Rats. He checks through some of their personal pages on that site; the ones he checks have all been abandoned.
Maybe they’re tired of the lack of sunlight in the tube, he thinks on the way to work. The tube sways and trembles quietly, its hum fills the air. Humans aren’t made for the underground afterall.
concept of something vaguely formed in my head. I call it Rats of Spice City.