#patching up

Day 4 - Patching Up

"Daggone, fuckin' radiers! Thought the NCR was going to take care of these hatichat hara mizdayen batachat Vipers! Make me use one of my stimpaks, you know how much these things cost?!?"

UGH SETH YOU HAVE SUCH AMAZING PROMPTS dont be afraid to keep em comin i've already been in this waiting room for like 3 hours and i have about 5 to go </3

anyways i hope you enjoy! some parts i struggled with bc writing slump. BUT we're getting there! thank u for loving my boys seth!

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

“Honestly Delaney, you’d think you’d be better at not gettin’ shot at after all our run-ins.”

Gene bristled. “Why don’t you shut your trap.”

Cassidy let out a snickering laugh as he examined the graze wound in Gene's arm. 

There had been a bar fight. Drunk men turned into toddlers with guns after a certain point, and it was usually unfortunate for anyone who got involved.

Tonight, that “anyone” included one Deputy Eugene Delaney.

🍁Patching Up has updated on Patreon!🍁

Current mood? “harrumph.”

About: Darshan, a stoic but kind crow harpy, is trusted with a task when his scarecrow boyfriend Godet has to leave home for a stitching surgery. But babysitting Godet’s bratty 9-year-old little brother Piper isn’t easy! How  do you take care of someone who doesn’t even trust you?

Trigger Warning for vomiting and blood.

Also posted on A03 under Ot3srock

Enjoy!

“Freddy, he’ll be okay. He probably just doesn’t have his phone on him right now,” Mark tried, watching his son pace back and forth across the walkway from the kitchen to the family room.

“But what if he’s out there all alone? What if he got hurt and I’m not there?” Freddy worried, stopping for just a moment before continuing, running a nervous hand through his hair.

“I don’t think that’s possible, Freddy. He’s very capable of taking care of himself,” Mark reminded. Freddy paused his motions, sitting on the couch and fiddling with his ring.

“You’re right. You’re right,” Freddy sighed, dropping his head. Suddenly, his phone chimed with Billy’s special ringtone and Freddy shot up, unlocking his phone to look at the text.

 My Superhero😘🥰😍💓🧡💛💚💙💜 need your help. can you come to the park

Freddy quickly typed a reply back and rushed out of the house, barely having time to grab a jacket and his backpack.

“Billy needs my help, gotta go, bye!” He was out the door before Mark could even say anything. He rushed to the park as quickly as he could, not even thinking about his leg. He ended up at the park and sat down on one of the benches, pulling out his phone and looking at it, his leg shaking with anxious energy.

“Freddy?” a voice from the dark asked.

“Billy? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Freddy called into the shadows. Billy came limping out from behind the slide, covered in cuts and bruises.

“I-I wasn’t sure you’d come. I didn’t get a reply so I thought you were sleeping,” Billy groaned, flopping next to Freddy. Freddy looked at his phone and saw that he’d typed a reply, but had forgotten to send it in his rush to see if his boyfriend was okay.

“Of course I’d come. You need my help,” Freddy replied. “What happened?”

“Took a pretty rough beating from some magic asshole,” Billy told him, breathing heavily. If Freddy had to guess, he’d say the boy had bruised ribs.

“Another?” Billy nodded, his head falling back. “That’s like, the fourth one in the past couple weeks.”

“I know.”

“Where do they keep coming from?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you think they have anything to do with Sivana?” Freddy asked. At that, Billy sat up, horrified look on his face.

“I hope not,” he replied, then groaned at the sudden movement of his aching body.

“I should probably get you cleaned up,” Freddy declared. He searched through his backpack until he found his first aid kit. Being the “loser kid” and a superhero’s boyfriend meant he had to patch up many scrapes and bruises that they both got from their various bullies/supervillains. Over the past year and a half, he’d gotten good at treating black eyes, busted lips, and other such wounds. He’d already been used to patching himself up before he’d become a designated nurse for his boyfriend, but that was mostly just bandages and gauze. Never before had he actually used wet wipes and antiseptic to clean a wound before covering it. Billy hissed as Freddy wiped at the blood on his lip with a wet wipe and Freddy snapped back to reality. He had to focus on helping his boyfriend or else he’d mess up and hurt the other.

“You okay?” Billy asked, looking at Freddy pointedly.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I’m fine,” Freddy replied. He swiped some hair back from his forehead as he examined Billy’s wrist. It wasn’t broken, just sprained, with a large bruise and a couple cuts. Freddy cleaned and bandaged the cuts, then slipped a brace on Billy’s wrist.

“Really? Cause you’re usually ranting to me about safety and being careful. And if you’re not doing that, you’re asking me about the supervillain’s powers,” Billy pointed out. “You’re being distant.”

“I need more bandaids. I’ll be right back,” Freddy muttered to himself, snapping the first aid kit closed and putting it back in his backpack; standing up and starting to make his way to the corner store a couple blocks away. It was a deflection tactic and it usually got him out of talking, but it didn’t seem to be working on Billy tonight.

“Freddy, stop deflecting. What’s wrong?” Billy asked, standing up. He wobbled and grabbed onto the bench, slowly making his way around to where Freddy was. Freddy’s head was hung low and Billy could just barely make out tears dripping off the boy’s chin, glinting in the moonlight.

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m just out of bandages so I need to pick up some more,” Freddy tried, lifting his head and wiping at his eyes.

“Then I’ll come with you,” Billy decided, shifting to stand. He groaned and leaned back against the bench.

“You can’t come with me. You can barely walk,” Freddy denied.

“I don’t care. I’m not letting you walk alone,” Billy insisted, not leaving any room for argument.

“Okay. Fine.” Freddy started off toward the corner store, Billy following behind him. They were both limping for separate but similar reasons. When they arrived, Freddy nodded at the attendant, who gave an unimpressed smile, then continued to the health aisle. He scoured the bandaids, picking up colorful ones, plain ones, superhero ones, waterproof ones and ones of different sizes. He picked up more gauze pads, some with built in antiseptic, some without, and some more wet wipes and neosporin, just in case. As he was looking, he felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. Why hadn’t Billy called him to help fight? Did he think Freddy couldn’t do it? Why was he so stubborn?

“Freddy? Are you okay?” Once again, Billy’s gentle voice cut through Freddy’s thoughts. Freddy’s stomach lurched and he dropped everything he was holding, stood, and rushed as quickly as he could to the bathroom in the back of the store.

“I gotta go to the bathroom!” he managed, not even wanting to look at his boyfriend’s sympathetic face. He vomited into the toilet, feeling his dinner make a grisly reappearance. He coughed and vomited again before he heard a knock on the door. He scrambled to lock the door, but instead he jostled his stomach again and vomited into the toilet one last time.

“Freddy, are you alright?” Billy called from the other side of the door. Freddy felt tears prick at the edges of his eyes and spill over onto his cheeks. Billy knocked again, persistent, yet gentle like he was. “Freddy, I’m gonna open the door, okay?” Freddy didn’t say anything, just choked on a sob. He was supposed to be helping Billy, not the other way around. God, he was being so selfish.

“Please don’t worry about me,” Freddy begged, hiding his face in his hands.

“Freddy, you just threw up and now you’re crying. Of course I’m gonna worry about you,” Billy refuted. “Please tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s just…I just…I mean…” Freddy paused and took a deep breath. “I thought you were dead!” he blurted. Billy let out a little gasp.

“What?”

“I thought you were dead and I was panicking even though Mark said you were probably okay, but I was still freaking out because you didn’t text me like you usually do and so when you texted me I rushed over and I just felt so sick when I saw you all beat up like you are and then I wondered why you didn’t call me and then I felt selfish and my stomach turned and I just feel awful now,” Freddy rambled anxiously, tears streaking down his face. He looked up at Billy, whose face was shocked and worried, with a hint of pain behind it. Then, Billy surged forward and kissed the boy, painful and sloppy, but full of love and passion. Freddy immediately kissed back and Billy pushed him against the wall, both forgetting that they were in a corner store bathroom barely a foot away from a vomit-filled toilet. Billy’s hand snaked up Freddy’s shirt, gripping the other’s bare side. Freddy finally pulled away, panting, and looked into Billy’s emerald green eyes.

“I’m so sorry I made you feel like that, Freddy. It wasn’t my intention to exclude you from the battle. I just didn’t want you getting hurt,” Billy expressed. “Plus I thought I could handle it by myself. You know how stubborn I am.” They both laughed.

“I should be taking care of you, you dork. Not the other way around,” Freddy sniffled, scrubbing at the tears with the heel of his hand.

“We’re supposed to take care of each other, Freddy,” Billy reminded, reaching forward and wiping the corners of Freddy’s mouth with the sleeve of his hoodie.

“Gross,” Freddy groaned.

“You’re gross,” Billy teased back, smiling. “You’re the one who vomited.” Freddy smirked and climbed into his boyfriend’s lap.

“And you’re the one who kissed me after I did.”

“Mm. I guess we’re both gross,” Billy decided, coming up from where he was planting kisses along Freddy’s jaw and neck. Freddy giggled, shoving the boy lightly.

“Billy, don’t. I don’t wanna be turned on in the bathroom of a crappy corner store a foot away from my own vomit.”

“Okay, then. Get up.” Billy pinched Freddy’s butt playfully and the boy giggled again.

“I can’t. Don’t have my crutch.” Billy looked around and found that, miraculously, Freddy’s crutch was on the opposite side of the room.

“Okay, slide off for a sec and I’ll grab it for you,” Billy instructed. Freddy moved back against the wall and Billy stood slowly, groaning, and made his way across the room. He grabbed Freddy’s crutch and limped back over. He extended his hand and Freddy took it, pulling himself up.

“Thank you.” Billy handed him his crutch and Freddy put it in position before leaning over to flush the toilet. Then he washed his mouth with water and Billy followed his action. They left the bathroom, grabbed everything Freddy had dropped, and bought it; ignoring the odd look from the cashier. They headed back to the park and Freddy paid proper attention to Billy’s injuries, gently placing kisses to each on in turn. Billy laughed every time he did it.

“Why do you keep doing that?” he asked as Freddy kissed the newly bandaged cut on his temple.

“Because it’s a ‘magic mommy’ kiss. It’ll make the wounds feel better.”

“Are you planning on being a mommy someday?” Billy teased. Freddy flicked him in the ear.

“Not with you if you keep talking like this,” he responded. Billy just laughed and let Freddy continue to patch him up, kisses and all. When he was done, he sat on the bench next to Billy, checking his watch. It was nearly midnight and he’d gotten there at around ten o’clock. He checked his phone and saw that a text had come in about a half hour ago.

Mark💚🗡🦽👨‍🦽👨‍👦🗡💚O_O Billy okay?

Freddy sent a quick reply back.

Freddy F.💙🌈🏳‍🌈🐱‍🐉🦘🦔👶🦿👨‍🦯🏳‍🌈🌈💙 Yeah. He’s okay. Just ran into a little trouble.

He got an answer a second later and then sent one back.

Mark💚🗡🦽👨‍🦽👨‍👦🗡💚O_O Okie dokie. You okay?

Freddy F.💙🌈🏳‍🌈🐱‍🐉🦘🦔👶🦿👨‍🦯🏳‍🌈🌈💙 Yeppers. I’ll be home in an hour, maybe.

Mark💚🗡🦽👨‍🦽👨‍👦🗡💚O_O Good deal.

“Why is there a baby emoji in your contact name?” Billy asked, looking over Freddy’s shoulder.

“Because I’m baby,” Freddy replied, resting the back of his hand under his chin, jutting out his bottom lip and giving Billy his best cute eyes, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks. Billy just laughed and kissed him.

“Mm. Tastes better than your vomit,” he commented. Freddy shoved him.

“You gross, cheeky bastard,” he groaned, but laughed anyway. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” God, Freddy hated when Billy got hurt, but he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

@scharoux @14daysofdalovers

Pairing: Lace Harding/F!Lavellan  

If you are enjoying my work and want to catch any stories you may have missed, here is the series on AO3

Tending You

A moan sounded behind them, instantly spurring her team to snatch their discarded weapons. Alys stole on soft feet, trying to avoid the deep mud that threatened to capture her boots and throw her face first into the muck. The elf reached the outcropping where the noise emanated from, expecting to find a walking corpse they missed in the original skirmish.

“Lace! Creators! Bull, help me!”

The qunari snatched the smaller woman and raced her back to base with the Inquisitor hot on their heels. Alys tried not to think of Lace’s usually lively cheeks devoid of color or the gash in her abdomen stained with blood under the dwarf’s hand. Tents were useless in the Fallow Mire, so the scouts commandeered the nearby cabins for shelter and they tumbled into the nearest one.

Dorian beat them back to camp, clearing off the lower bunk to allow the warrior to lay the woman on the mattress. The mage gingerly peeled back the woman’s sticky leathers, apologizing for his part in causing her pain when she hissed at the movement. Sighing in relief, Dorian smiled reassuringly to the anxious scout.

“A flesh wound. It has damaged nothing vital. It needs to be cleaned and stitched, but with a healing potion and daily applications of a poultice, it will heal.”

Dorian lifted her soaked armor to remove it and Lace stiffened, her green eyes flicking from the Inquisitor to the men hovering in the room and a protectiveness roared within the elf. “Men, out! This is for women only.”

Her companions blinked at her in wide-eyed surprise, only rivaled by the dumbfounded expression gracing the scout’s freckled features. Alys stepped closer to the bed, hands on her hips, ignoring that her usual imposing stature was less so in her saturated state. Iron Bull glanced between the women and smirked, tapping Dorian on the shoulder, tossing his pack on the table as they left.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Alys turned to Lace with a warm smile. The dwarven woman fidgeted uncomfortably. “Inquisitor, you-you don’t have to tend to me. One of my scouts can do it. We’re used to helping each other in the field.”

“Lace, please. Let me take care of you, for once. And what did I say about calling me Inquisitor?”

She blushed, smiling shyly at the elven woman, “It’s a tough habit to break, Alys. If I get too comfortable, I’ll start name dropping among the scouts and give them the wrong idea.”

Alys’s stomach twisted, even as she smiled in the quiet room and eased the dwarf out of her ruined armor. Outer layers removed, leaving her in breast band and smalls, she tucked the woman under a blanket while she set up her tools. Shucking her own drenched clothes, Alys pulled on a dry sleeping tunic, so she could work without polluting the wound and snatched a kettle to boil water for cleaning the area. Digging in Bull’s pack she found the kit that held the needles and catgut for stitching and the numbing cream, a recipe from her clan, that came in handy for field suturing.

With the water boiled, she quickly washed her hands and her tools before pouring the remainder in a clean basin with some elfroot and prophet’s laurel to disinfect the wound. Locating her clean cloths and bandages, Alys kneeled on the rug peeking underneath the bed, smiling tenderly at the dwarf as she set up her materials.

Rolling back the blanket, she breathed in relief as she fully examined the wound. A gash in the ample flesh of her right side, but dwarves carried an extra layer of padding on their physique, shielding her muscles from injury. The edges were jagged and would probably scar, but Lace would live and that was all she cared about.

“You’re too quiet. It’s making me nervous,” the dwarf whispered. She hummed appreciatively as the elf’s warm hands danced along her skin. Alys murmured a soft apology at her gasp with the sudden temperature increase as hot water bathed her tender flesh.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s hot, but it’s not deep. Just a few passes to clean it out.” Alys’s free hand tangled with one of Lace’s freckled ones, and the dwarf didn’t protest, instead clinging to it as an anchor against the flushing of her wound. Every tug and lavage of the injury pulled small gasps from her lips that almost broke Alys’s heart. When she finally set aside the basin, the dwarf was not the only one trembling.

“I’m okay. It’s okay. Y-you did what you had to…I don’t blame you,” the scout panted, sweat dotting her brow. “I just couldn’t swear…not in front of the Inquisitor.” She gave a strained laugh at the elf’s eye roll.

“Fuck, Lace. You know I’m the last one who gives a damn about propriety or being the ‘Herald of Andraste.’ Drop all the curses you want. I’m sure yours are quite inventive, traveling the world with a bunch of mouthy soldiers.”

Her bark of laughter was robust, full-bodied and heady, like one of Dorian’s vintage wines and Alys’s pulse increased in response. Releasing her hand with regret, she produced a health potion from her materials and gently lifted the dwarf’s head so she could drink it. Alys held her breath as Lace’s lips puckered around the edge of the flask. Her gaze flicked to her bright green eyes and found them locked on her.

She no longer heard the rain pouring outside or the crackling of the hearth nor saw the cozy one room cabin. All her focus was on the woman she thought she might lose and hadn’t yet told how she felt. As Lead Scout, she was the first to arrive in new regions to set up a base of operations and make sure it was secure for the Inquisitor. How many near death experiences had she had that Alys didn’t know about? Would she have told her? Had she ever asked?

“Lace…”

“Alys?”

Setting aside the empty flask, Alys cupped Lace’s face in her slender hands and leaned forward to press her lips to the rosy, pillowy ones that were a constant source of fascination for her. The dwarf froze. Mentally cursing herself, Alys pulled back, an apology on her tongue, when Lace grabbed her tunic and snatched her back with a blissful sigh. Relaxing into the kiss, Alys languidly caressed her full lips, savoring the sweetness under the bitter tang of elfroot and wondered why in the Creator’s name she had waited so long.

When they finally separated, panting after months of pining realized, she smiled at the glazed expression of her patient. Touching her forehead reverently, she kissed the tip of Lace’s nose, pulling a surprised giggle from the dwarven woman.

“I’m sorry. I should be tending to you, not –“

“Fuck, Alys,” she teased, mirth shining in her green eyes. “You are tending to me.” The elf flushed slightly at the insistence in her tone.

“Still, let me finish getting you patched up, okay? Once you’re bandaged, we’ll bundle you in one of my tunics and blankets so you can rest.”

A gentle brush of fingers against her cheek halted her retreat and she turned her wide eyes to the dwarf. “I’ll only rest if you stay with me,” she murmured shyly. With a soft kiss of her lips across Lace’s hand, Alys nodded with a tender smile.

XD People have been drawing Pomni patching Ragatha up and Ragatha having various overwhelmed reactions to it (touchstarved gay bean) so I figured I'd try my hand. Ended up with more space than expected down below so I added speech bubbles.