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sachigram · 3 years

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With Teeth Chapter 4

((click here to read on ao3!))

The next few days pass by normally for Shizuo. He's been making more of an effort to be social, doesn't want to make his friends feel left out of his life. He could see how it hurt them before when he pushed them away. As a result, he has more things to do, and he feels better than he has in ages.

Tonight, he's sitting across from Tom, next to Vorona. They're all having drinks to celebrate a successful week at work, and Shizuo is looking forward to the weekend. He doesn't have any plans on his off days, but he likes not having to worry about tracking down some low-life, even if he's only free of it two days a week.

“Any plans this weekend?” Tom asks them both. He's flushed, clearly tipsy already. Shizuo has a high tolerance, and he's pretty sure Vorona does too, because she's drinking faster than either of them, and she seems perfectly sober.

“Negative,” Vorona replies while Shizuo merely shakes his head. “I may go to the bookstore tomorrow.”

“Your checks all go to books,” Tom says. “You should live a little.”

“To acquire knowledge is life's goal.”

Tom looks from her to Shizuo and raises his eyebrows. Immediately, Shizuo feels like Tom is about to do something stupid.

“Why don't the two of you hang out together? Since neither of you have plans.” Tom sips his drink, a smug look of satisfaction on his face. Shizuo's blood boils.

“I—“ he starts, but is interrupted when Vorona speaks.

“That would be nice.”

“Huh?” Shizuo asks, turning to face her. She's looking at him with her usual indifferent gaze, not the least bit affronted by the idea.

“If it would be agreeable for Shizuo-senpai, I see no reason we cannot meet tomorrow,” Vorona says, and she tosses back the rest of her drink. It's straight gin, no mixer, no rocks, but she doesn't even flinch. Just the smell of it has been burning Shizuo's nose.

“Oh, um. If you want to,” Shizuo says, unsure of what's even happening.

“So it's a date then,” Tom announces, and he goes to get them all more drinks.

***

“You shouldn't have done that,” Shizuo grumbles later, after Vorona has split away from them to go catch her train. “You made her feel like she had to agree.”

“Shizuo, come on, man. How do you miss the way she looks at you? She's had a thing for you since she started working with us.” Tom is stumbling a bit as he walks, and Shizuo considers letting him face-plant if he falls.

“She does not. And even if she did, what the hell am I supposed to do about it?”

Tom looks up at Shizuo, giving him such an incredulous look that it's almost reminisce of the way the flea looks at him.

“What are you supposed to do about it?” Tom repeats, and then he laughs. “Oh, my god. You're killing me.”

“Shut up, you know what I mean. I'm not someone that anyone should have a thing for. I'm dangerous, and it's only gotten worse.” Shizuo looks up at the sky, sees the lights of airplanes flying overhead. “I don't want to hurt her.”

“You don't hurt people who don't deserve it,” Tom replies, and Shizuo thinks of that strange dream he had before, the one where Izaya was there, seeing his worst memory. “Give yourself some credit, would you? Have fun. Try to be happy.”

“I am trying. This is a bad idea.”

“Well, too late now. If you stand her up, you really will be an asshole,” Tom says, and then he falls on his face. Shizuo makes no move to help him up.

Shizuo doesn't sleep that night. He's too anxious about his “date” with Vorona, has no idea what they'll do or what they'll talk about. He's tried before to think of himself as the kind of guy who would be lucky enough to have a pretty girl on his arm, but it's always too much of a fantasy, something unattainable and pointless to hope for. Vorona is strong, and she's seen him fight, knows what he's capable of, but it's different to behold someone dangerous from the sidelines and then up close, when it's turned on you. He imagines her look of indifference changing to real fear when he lunges at her, and he doesn't realize until he's waking up that he actually managed to slip into unconsciousness.

“Fuck.” He gets up from the bed, moving to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face. He's terrified of what will come, of what he is. More than anything, he's sick of being so terrified. His reflection is older, maybe wiser, but all Shizuo can see is that same snotty kid who hurt someone he wanted to protect once.

***

He meets Vorona at the train station. She's dressed the same as she always is, and he's grateful she didn't do anything different in her routine for his sake. She lifts a hand in greeting, studying his face.

“You appear tired,” she says.

“Yeah. Didn't sleep well last night. Sorry.”

“No apology necessary. Perhaps we could get coffee first, both wake up a little more.”

As it turns out, following Vorona around isn't too different from trailing after Tom. She doesn't talk nearly as much, but she doesn't seem to mind taking the lead, and she doesn't take his silence as disinterest. They wind up going to the bookstore Vorona mentioned, grabbing coffee from a little kiosk outside before wandering the aisles. Vorona picks up a book every now and then, explains it to Shizuo in a way he can understand without being pretentious about it, and he finds that he's actually enjoying himself.

After Vorona purchases some new books, they make their way down the street to a restaurant she says she's been wanting to try. This is the part Shizuo was worried about, having to sit alone with her and have her realize he's got absolutely nothing interesting to say, but they manage to keep the conversation going. It's easier than Shizuo expected, and he finds himself thinking he should thank Tom later for setting this up.

“You seem happier than before,” Vorona says when they're walking out of the restaurant. “You were so quiet for so long.”

Shizuo opens his mouth to ask what she means, but he thinks he knows. He was feeling sorry for himself after the bite, wanted to keep everyone out, pushed them away. He is happier now than he was then, but he's still a coward, and he's still scared of anyone learning his secret.

“I'm better now,” he says, feeling that it's true.

“I am very glad,” she replies, and she gives him a rare smile.

That night, as Shizuo walks home after escorting Vorona to the train station, he feels his phone vibrating in his pocket.

“Yo,” he says, picking up the call.

“How did it go?” Tom asks.

“It was...nice,” Shizuo says. He can practically feel Tom's frustrations through the phone.

“Nice? That's not telling me anything!”

“We had a good time. It was much better than I thought it would be.”

“I guess that's all I'm going to get from you. Either way, I'm glad. I think you'll both be good for each other.”

“Yeah,” Shizuo replies. For the first time in his life, he can picture a girl on his arm. “Me too.”

***

The days that follow are slow, but enjoyable. Shizuo goes to work, hangs out with Tom and Vorona, makes plans to spend time with Vorona again on the upcoming weekend. He's almost able to forget all about his ailment, and the bullshit alliance he has with Izaya, who has been silent since storming out of his place the morning after the full moon. Shizuo will have to see him soon so he can stock back up on his potion, and he's not looking forward to it. Part of him worries what Izaya might do if he learns Shizuo is dating Vorona. Izaya wants to ruin every good thing in Shizuo's life. There's no way he wouldn't interfere.

Still, Shizuo is enjoying his period of peace. He's able to sidestep his involuntary entanglement with the other world, with Izaya. He's enjoying feeling like himself again, whoever that may be.

Friday night, before his date with Vorona on Saturday, he's able to find sleep easily, but it doesn't feel like sleeping. He closes his eyes in his room, opens them somewhere else. He hears the sounds of crying, of screaming, and while he should move away from it, he finds himself moving closer. There's a familiar scene before him, one of himself standing in front of a small boy cowering in a corner while two toddlers scream in their cribs. It feels like he's been here before, but he can't place why, not until the small boy looks up at him.

“Izaya,” Shizuo breathes. He doesn't know his own age here, but he can see how small Izaya is, how scared. It's unsettling. Shizuo has never seen fear on Izaya's face before.

“Who are you?” Izaya asks him, looking up at him with wonder.

“You don't know me?” Shizuo asks in disbelief. Izaya has his webs of deceit stretched over everything, over everyone, so time and space probably mean nothing to him either. But when Izaya shakes his head, Shizuo finds he instantly believes him.

“Am I dreaming?” Izaya looks around. “Are you a vision? You're not a ghost, right?”

“No,” Shizuo says. “I'm dreaming. I don't know what the fuck you're doing. You're a witch, right? You've gotta be the one doing something.”

Izaya flinches at the word “witch”, and he looks nervously around himself before looking back up at Shizuo.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Shizuo snaps, and Izaya flinches even more. Shizuo feels concern for the kid in front of him, even knowing who he is, or at least who he'll grow up to be. Is this real? It's not real; it can't be real. It's a dream, one of those lucid dreams he's heard about. He'll ask Shinra about it later.

“Your mind is loud,” Izaya says, and he stands up, padding across the floor to stand in front of Shizuo. How is the flea so tall? He's a small kid, can't be more than twelve if the twins are still toddlers, but Shizuo is looking in Izaya's eyes. Izaya snorts, amused. “I'm not tall. You're the same height as me.”

Shizuo looks down at himself, realizes he's a kid here, too, but with all his memories of the future. He looks back at Izaya, dubious of him, and the amusement drains from Izaya's face.

“You really don't like me,” Izaya says, and he fidgets.

“You ruined my life,” Shizuo spits. “Or you will, anyway.”

“Oh.” Izaya's voice is small. “I've sensed terrible things to come in the future. Things for myself, especially, but I don't know how to stop any of it. I don't think it can be stopped.”

“The future is shitty already, but you make it worse. You enjoy making people suffer. The Izaya I know is—“ Shizuo stops himself, realizes he was yelling. Izaya seems terrified of him, but also curious, his eyes shining even in the darkness of the room.

“You're the realest vision I've ever had,” Izaya says. “I hope I remember you. I forget them sometimes when they're over.” The lights of the room begin flickering on and off, and Izaya puts his hands over his ears. “Go away!” he shouts towards the corner of the room.

“What's happening? Who's doing this?” Shizuo asks, feeling like he should protect this child version of his greatest enemy. The Izaya before him is just a kid, and Shizuo doesn't know how or why, but he can feel how incredibly lonely Izaya is.

“A ghost,” Izaya replies, and he narrows his eyes at Shizuo as if daring him to argue. “I see them all the time, and they want me to help them, but I don't know how. They won't listen to me when I say that.”

“Where are your parents?”

Izaya shrugs, and Shizuo feels rage boiling inside him. He remembers hearing from Shinra once that Izaya's parents were never around, that Izaya raised the twins practically on his own. Mairu and Kururi are weird, certainly, and Shizuo isn't fond of the idea of letting them anywhere near his own brother, but he think they're good kids, all things considered, especially if this is how they were raised.

“My grandparents are around,” Izaya says, seeming to read Shizuo's thoughts. “Or, they will be tomorrow. They already came by today to bring food.”

“That's so fucked up,” Shizuo blurts, and to his surprise, Izaya smiles.

“My parents aren't bad people. They're incredibly busy, and they weren't expecting to have more kids.” Izaya looks to the the twins, who are watching him, still warbling even though the lights have stopped flickering for now. Their little hands are reaching towards him through the bars of their cribs. “As for my grandparents, they're not in great health. They can't do much to help aside from cooking and checking in every now and then.”

“Sounds like a lot of excuses,” Shizuo says, thinking of his own family. His mother never even wanted to leave their family overnight, much less weeks, months at a time. Izaya shrugs again.

“Maybe so. It doesn't matter much to me anymore. They never listened to me even when they were here.” Izaya studies Shizuo for a moment. “Your mind is—“

“Loud, yeah. You keep saying that.”

“It's more than that! It's like static and whirlwind mixed together. I can feel you wanting me out of your head, but you keep letting me back in, pulling me in, really. It's like you want me to hear you.”

“I don't,” Shizuo says flatly. “How are you doing any of this, anyway? I'm not anywhere near you in the present right now. Why are we sharing the same dream?”

“How should I know? I was born with this power, but I don't know how to use it all yet,” Izaya says, and Shizuo frowns at him, wants to bring up the future and all the terrible things Izaya will do once he does master his stupid power, but it would be pointless. This Izaya has no idea of the future, probably isn't even real. This is a dream, probably, Shizuo's brain attempting to humanize the flea.

“You called me a witch,” Izaya murmurs, more to himself than to Shizuo.

“That's what you call yourself,” Shizuo says.

“I've never had a word for it before. I just knew I was...different. People romanticize it, you know, being different from everyone else. Standing out. Maybe for a while, it was fun. But lately I'm like an island in myself, and every day the distance to the mainland grows.” Izaya pauses, as if hearing himself say so out loud is illuminating in some way. “I'm being dramatic, aren't I? I didn't mean to say any of that.”

“I know what you mean,” Shizuo finds himself saying. He doesn't elaborate, but he doesn't really have to. He can feel Izaya in his head, like a prickle on the edges of his subconscious.

“Why aren't we friends?” Izaya asks, and the question is so earnest, so innocent, that Shizuo finds himself bolting upright in his bed, jerked back into wakefulness.

“Fuck these fucking dreams,” he hisses, rolling over to check his phone. It's a little after seven in the morning, an hour before his alarm was set to go off. He's already got a message from Vorona, telling him she's looking forward to their outing.

He doesn't know why he can't get Izaya's face out of his mind.

***

Shizuo's second date with Vorona goes well.

They meet at Sunshine 60, have some drinks with their food. Conversation comes easier this time, and there's hardly any silence between them. While they walk, Shizuo finds her hand in his, and he doesn't hate it. Her hand is soft, but not too soft. She has the same callused hands he does, and it reminds him that she can take care of herself, that she can handle him, so long as he's careful to remain human around her.

He drank enough to have a little bit of a buzz going as they make their way up towards the observatory. Vorona says she hasn't seen it yet, and wants to. It reminds Shizuo that this is the sort of thing people who visit Ikebukuro find exciting, while it remains mundane to the locals. He trails after her as they walk, and he doesn't know why he notices a familiar face off to the side, outside a comic book store, but he does notice, and he stops in his tracks. Vorona looks up at him questioningly.

“What is it?” she asks.

“Hey, I'll meet you up there. I need to ask someone something really quick.”

Vorona studies him. “Affirmative. I will go on ahead.”

Shizuo watches her go for a moment, and then he turns back to the comic book store, making his way through the crowd. A redheaded man is leaning against the building, his arms crossed. He grins up at Shizuo when he notices his approach.

“Well, well. Heiwajima Shizuo. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I don't remember your name,” Shizuo says bluntly, and the man laughs.

“Yeah, why would you? I'm sure you've got more pressing things to manage these days. You can call me Akabayashi, if you bother to remember it.”

Shizuo recognizes him from all that shit with Akane. Akabayashi also was there with the twins that day at the dojo, Vorona's first day of work.

“You know, don't you?” Shizuo asks, keeping his voice low. Akabayashi raises an eyebrow.

“You'll have to be more specific.”

“Cut the shit. You know what I am, and you know who did it. I wanna know why.”

“Well, let's see,” Akabayashi says, scratching his chin. “As I recall, you don't keep your head down much. In fact, you've gotten involved in plenty of things you shouldn't have been. You know that already, so your pressing question really is who, isn't it?”

“I already know Izaya ordered it. I wanna know who it was that did the dirty work.” Shizuo glowers at Akabayashi, hating how amused the man seems. He's not scared of Shizuo in the least. It's refreshing, but it's also irritating.

“Don't make assumptions that we take orders from the likes of that brat. Anyway, yeah, I know who did it, and so would you, if you saw him. He's laying low for now, under orders. I can't give you a name. You understand.”

“Bullshit, I do!” Shizuo snaps, and he lifts Akabayashi up by the collar of his suit. “Give me a name, dammit! It's the least you fuckers can do after you all stood back and let me turn into this— thing!”

“This is the problem with youngsters like you. You're too emotional. It's okay, kid, I was like that before, too, but this city has a way of beating passion right out of you.” Akabayashi doesn't seems concerned at all, even as his feet dangle. In fact, he looks like he's having a blast. “You'll know in due time. A little patience would do you good.”

“It's been seven months,” Shizuo says, offended at the idea he hasn't been too patient already.

“And? What do you want, a medal?”

“You fucker—“

“They had it! They really had it!” A small, excited voice says, and Shizuo finds himself looking down into the wide eyes of Awakusu Akane. She's carrying a bag from the store, clearly over the moon about her purchase.

“I'm glad,” Akabayashi says. “You can tell me all about that story of yours while we get lunch.”

“Shizuo-san...” Akane whimpers, and Shizuo releases Akabayashi. “You're not here to fight, right?”

“I was thinking about it,” Shizuo admits, “but I decided against it.”

“I'm not ready to fight you yet!” Akane says, her voice more determined now. “But I will be! I'm trying extra hard at the dojo, and I can challenge you soon!”

“I look forward to it. Just don't work too hard, okay? Getting strong means taking it easy sometimes, too,” Shizuo says, putting a hand on her head.

“Right! I'll do my best!”

“Anything else, or can I take the little miss to our lunch date?” Akabayashi asks, and Shizuo glares at him.

“I'll ask you again later.”

“Go for it! Maybe I'll give you an answer. Maybe you could ask that information broker friend of yours, too.” Akabayashi turns on his heel, pulling Akane along with him with one hand, his cane in the other. “Or then again, steer clear of that one. He's not right in the head.”

“Bye, Shizuo-san!”

Shizuo growls after them, and then he goes to meet Vorona. Akabayashi was right; Shizuo does have more pressing things to worry about.

***

After parting ways with Vorona at the train station again, Shizuo considers going to see Shinra and asking about the dreams he's been having, but he decides he'll do it later. He had a good day, and he doesn't want Shinra dampening it with his overstepping. Especially while Shizuo has something else even more terrible to deal with.

He knocks, and it takes a few moments for the door to open. Finally, an irate brunette appears, glaring at Shizuo.

“What do you want now?” she asks, and her voice sounds accusatory, as if Shizuo is interrupting more than just her current peace.

“I'm here to see Izaya,” Shizuo says, and she rolls her eyes.

“I didn't think you were here for anything else. Come in, I guess.” She steps to the side, allowing Shizuo inside. He doesn't see Izaya anywhere.

“He left something for you,” she says, moving to the corner. She emerges with a large box in her arms, and she shuffles towards Shizuo, letting him take it from her. “He said he knew you were coming, and that he didn't want to see you.”

“Of course,” Shizuo spits, taking the box that's filled with his potions. He doesn't know why he expected to see Izaya here, why he's disappointed he didn't.

“Please tell me you didn't give him anything to use against you,” the woman says. Shizuo frowns at her.

“What was your name again?” he asks.

“Is that really relevant? I'm your mortal enemy's secretary, and I also hate him. Watching him be angry about you is one of my few joys in life.”

“That's pathetic,” Shizuo says, feeling a vindictive sort of satisfaction when her lip curls at him.

“I wasn't looking for your approval. Answer my question.”

“Where is Izaya?” Shizuo asks, bypassing her and her scrutiny.

“Does it matter? Out. I thought you'd be happy. Now answer me, dammit. What's he holding over your head? Is it worth seeing him so frequently? To my understanding, the two of you only crossed paths before by accident, and it was always antagonistic.”

“If you hate him so much, you shouldn't work for him,” Shizuo snaps, disliking her and her unwanted insight into his life. “You seem capable enough to handle yourself. What do you need him for?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” she says flatly, and he scoffs.

“Yeah? Well, I asked you first. The thing is, we both know what we're getting from him, right? And neither of us feel the need to share it with anyone else.”

“Whatever. Sue me for wondering. I won't take pity on you again.”

Shizuo is all but shoved from the apartment, the box of potion vials in his arms. He doesn't like anything about the way he feels, but he trudges home, his stomach in knots the entire way. Not seeing Izaya feels like an omen of sorts, like a harbinger of things to come.

***

He dreams later, first of nothing, and then of that same room, of the twins screaming in their cribs, and Izaya crying out in fear. It seems like the slate has been wiped clean, like this version of Izaya never spoke to any version of Shizuo. But that's accurate, isn't it? This is all pretend. It's all just a dream.

“Why do you keep coming back here?” Izaya's voice asks, and when Shizuo meets his eyes, it's the present version of Izaya. He's standing in the corner, right beside his past self, who doesn't seem to be able to see either of them now.

“I don't know,” Shizuo says. He's not a kid this time. He's towering over Izaya, but of course Izaya isn't backing down. “How are you doing this?”

“Me?” Izaya asks, incredulous. “How am I doing what? You're the one spying on my past.”

“I'm not the one with magic!” Shizuo roars. “Don't act like I'm invading your privacy, not when you're the one who's always linking us. It's not my fault that it goes both ways.”

Izaya pales, as if this thought only just occurred to him. He recovers quickly, schooling his features, turning away from Shizuo in a show of nonchalance.

“You got what you wanted from me. You got your potions, the ones that keep you so fucking tame—“

“Who are you to tell me what I want?” Shizuo interjects. “I never wanted to deal with you at all, especially so frequently. And even then, you couldn't leave well enough alone, right? You had to start haunting my dreams, too.”

When their eyes meet again, Shizuo is filled with a sudden onslaught of understanding, thoughts he knows aren't his own. Izaya isn't doing this on purpose, doesn't know how it keeps happening, doesn't like it any more than Shizuo does. Shizuo's mind is almost impossible for Izaya to pull away from, like a black hole, and even with Izaya trying to pull back, Shizuo doesn't seem to be allowing it. In fact, Shizuo is strengthening the link by being here, by interacting with Izaya's past. He's the one pulling Izaya in, like a child in desperate need of company.

“That's not true,” Shizuo growls, not appreciating Izaya's comparison. He can't help looking over to the younger version of Izaya, who is still crying pitifully. Shizuo feels the need to protect him from his future self's callous words, too, even if he can't seem to hear anything other than the twins and the ghost terrorizing them.

“In case you haven't noticed, I have been leaving you alone. I'm incredibly busy, and every time I actually manage to sleep, here you are, poking around. Snooping. Don't you have better things to do, like entertain that Matryoshka doll of yours?” Izaya asks, and Shizuo whirls back to face him, his mouth a twisted snarl of rage.

“Don't you fucking talk to me about her.”

“Don't talk to me at all. Get the fuck out!” Izaya shouts, and the door behind Shizuo opens. He's yanked backwards by an incredible force, and he falls through the doorway. He keeps falling through black nothingness, images flashing before his eyes as he does, memories he knows aren't his own. He tries to grab onto them, tries to make sense of any of them, but he can't. They're gone as soon as they appear.

Right before he hits whatever ground is below, he jerks awake, finds he's twisted himself into his sheets and managed to topple over into the floor. Cursing, he untangles himself, and he thinks back to the dream, at least, the parts of it he can remember. The image of a young, nervous Izaya talking to older men in fine suits is at the forefront of his mind.

Miles away, he knows Izaya is awake, too.

#with teeth fic #shizaya #Shizuo Heiwajima #Izaya Orihara #werewolf shizuo #witchy izaya

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curious-menace · 3 years

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So iv got yet another headache 🙃

Wonder what the rogues would be like when they aren't feeling too peachy? What do the rogues do when they have a headache?

Penguin

Penguin very rarely gets headaches, he's lucky that way. That tophat of his protects him from the sun, he gets regular massages so he never gets tension headaches and he never drinks enough to be hungover. On the rare occasion he does have one it's usually very mild, even if he's got some other ailment like the flu. He's got the luxury of being able to go to bed with an icepack and some hot whiskey to help him sleep it off.

Twoface

Poor Harvey. Suffers from chronic tension headaches, high blood pressure headaches and even the occasional migraine. DID can cause some pretty severe headaches on it's own and that's even before you take into account all the stress he's under. Still, they both hide it well, two face is definitely more dramatic about it though. He rolls around on his bed in pain where Harvey just preferred everything to be quite and still. They usually just tough it out, but they have specific meds for when it gets really bad. If he's out of Arkham /no access to tablets he has a terrible habit of self medicating with whatever he can get his hands on. Might help for a little while but the rebound will be so much worse.

Ivy

Another one who rarely gets headaches. The only thing that can hurt her is lack of water/dehydration. Generally she has a liter bottle with her wherever she goes but she has been known to absorb rain through her skin in desperation. She can grow herbal remedies in seconds , so she doesn't really needs Tylenol or anything. She has a little pot of tiger balm white in her pocket for if she's being discreet with her plant powers .

Riddler

Another chronic headache sufferer. But frankly, most of its his own fault. He forgets to eat and drink regularly and his posture at his scheming chair is absolutely atrocious. Don't even get me started on his habit of staring at the screen for hours on end. No wonder he has such bad eye strain.The majority of his pain could be avoided by keeping a waterbottle at his desk and sitting up better. He flat out refuses to take tablets unless he is actually dying. Then and only then will he take 1 ibuprofen and a quick nap until it kicks in.

Scarecrow

His headaches are few and far between but when they hit him, they put him down for the day. He gets sick in stages, trying to convince himself he's fine and can keep working. Chugging a handful of painkillers with a mouthful of whiskey was a bad idea as an undergrad but now as an actual adult it's like trying to put out a house fire with a water pistol. He has blacked out from the pain several times over the years, usually waking up with Harley or one of the other rogues fussing over him and telling him to go to the hospital.he never does and he never will but he appreciates the concern. It'll usually take a few days for the pain to go away but Jon can usually be found back in his lab after one, powering through it for the sake of his work. Frankly it wouldn't take so long to feel better if he wasn't breathing in all those fumes.

Harley

She gets the odd headache. Some from stress, some from hangovers. She's young she can usually just sleep it off or drink some water and be fine 20 minutes later. the worst headaches she gets are hairdo headaches. Having gymnastic updos and her hair in those pigtails all damn day makes her hair hurt. She really likes head and scalp massages and if she's feeling especially headachy she might want someone to play with her hair or rub her back. Basically comforting touch is like morphine for her.

Lmao I had to stop writing this half way through bc my headache got too severe. I wish I could be like penguin and just not get headaches 🙃

Got a question for me? Send me an ask or a DM or HMU with some of your own Headcanons

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atths--twice · 3 years

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A Blessing Doubled

Scully and Mulder are approached separately by Rachel and Skinner. Worried that it may be bad news, they are both pleasantly surprised to find that is not the case

I have had this plan in my head for... at least a year and a half. Once I knew that I wanted Rachel and Skinner together, I had their whole relationship planned out.

I hope you enjoy this new journey in their lives, as told through Scully and Mulder's eyes. ❤.

Chapter One

March 2021

Scully pulled up to the coffee shop and smiled as she sighed happily. It had been such a long since she had been out, on her own, and she was looking forward to it very much.

Turning off the car, she unplugged her phone and began to gather her things. She put on her black mask with a single bright blue butterfly, which she had purchased solely because Faith had liked it, smiling and touching it softly. She got out of the car and glanced around, looking for Rachel.

They were meeting up at her request and Scully felt a bit nervous as to why, worried that something had happened. It had only been a few months since she and Skinner had gotten married, and her request to see Scully alone had raised a red flag.

“God, I hope they aren’t moving. Or something worse,” she said quietly to herself as she locked the car. Taking a deep breath, she stepped onto the sidewalk, her hands in her pockets, looking back and forth and smiling when she saw Rachel heading toward her.

When Rachel saw her, she paused for a second and then continued walking. Scully could not see her mouth, but she knew Rachel was smiling by the way her eyes crinkled. Letting others pass by her, she finally arrived and Scully smiled.

“Hello,” she said, taking in Rachel’s stylish black coat, her hair still dark brown with burgundy highlights.

“Dana, it’s great to see you, as always,” Rachel responded, touching her elbow. “How are you?”

“I’m here. On my own. Just. Me.” She stretched her arms out and closed her eyes briefly. “I can’t remember the last time that happened.” Rachel laughed and Scully smiled. “Please don’t get me wrong, I love them both, but… time on my own is hard to come by these days and I miss it sometimes.”

“I understand,” Rachel said, laughing again, and then she sighed.

“I’m glad to see you. Should we head inside?” Rachel nodded and they walked into the shop and ordered their drinks. “I’m so looking forward to this coffee. It’s been… too long since I’ve had this luxury.”

“Well, you do live far from the city,” Rachel teased and Scully nodded, as she took some napkins from the holder and placed them in her pockets.

“We do indeed. It has its benefits, but the coffee shops...” She moaned, thinking of how easy it had been to pop out for a coffee. Was that only last year? God, it felt like a lifetime ago.

Their names were called and they picked up their drinks, Scully’s mouth watering at the thought of drinking her coffee. As they walked to the door, her phone vibrated in her coat pocket. Checking it quickly, she saw there was a message from Mulder and it caused her to stop walking for a second.

Skinner just called. Asked if he could come over and talk. Both seeking us out? 👀

Her heart dropped, immediately fearing the worst, believing they were ill. But then, she knew if that were the case, they would not choose to see them, but stay home and let them know from there.

Unless it was a different sickness…

She looked at Rachel, who did not seem upset or uneasy. Maybe they just needed a break and someone to vent to, life becoming rough at times, especially these days.

Just needing a break most likely.

She typed back and waited as she saw he was actively typing a response.

We shall see. Enjoy your coffee. Bring me back a cookie.

She smiled at how quickly he moved from the subject at hand. His worry obviously not as high as hers.

I will. Do you want a pink cookie?

She sent just as a new message came in from him.

One of the shortbread ones with the pink frosting.

She laughed softly and shook her head, waiting for him to finish typing again.

Ah, Scully. 😂 Have fun, love.

She put her phone back in her pocket and smiled, glancing at Rachel who was waiting at the door.

“Sorry,” she said, walking up to her. “Mulder texted, asking for a cookie to be brought back to him.” Rachel laughed and Scully rolled her eyes with a smile.

She did not mention anything about Skinner coming to the house, wanting to feel her out and see what she had to say. They stepped outside and towards a table, but Rachel stopped her.

“Would you mind if we walked? I uh… I…” Rachel asked. “I know you were looking forward to being here, but it’s nice out, even if it’s a little cold.”

“Okay. That would be fine.” She nodded and they left the open seating area, walking on the sidewalk and then making a right, heading toward a nearby park.

Scully was silent, her mind filling with so many questions. Her stomach felt nervous, as though something was about to happen. She sighed as Rachel pointed to a large fountain ahead of them.

“We could sit there,” she said softly and Scully nodded in agreement.

They continued on the path and then sat on the stone wall opposite the fountain, the water falling with a gentle almost comforting sound. Taking off their masks, they smiled at one another, before taking a drink of their beverages. Scully moaned and Rachel laughed softly, holding her cup in her lap.

“So good,” Scully whispered and Rachel nodded, her eyes downcast. “Okay, it’s only been a few minutes, but the curiosity is driving me crazy. Is everything okay?” Rachel raised her eyes, looking into hers and smiled with a nod.

“Yes. Everything is fine.”

“You and Skinner… Walter… you’re both okay?” Rachel smiled and nodded again.

“Yes. We’re both good.” Scully stared at her and shook her head, not believing she was telling her everything.

“You called me to meet up with you… which I’m happy about… but we don’t normally do this kind of thing. Not just us, I mean. I’m feeling a little unsure that you’re being completely honest with me.” Rachel tilted her head and regarded her. “No one is sick?”

“No, Dana. No one is sick.”

“Are you… are you moving? Did something happen and you have to move?” The thought alone made her feel incredibly sad. “I have to tell you, it would crush all of us if you did. We would understand, but…” She let out a deep breath and looked at Rachel.

“No,” she said with a sniff. “We aren’t moving. Not… well, not yet anyway. But we might… we didn’t discuss that, but we probably should.” She spoke quietly, almost as if to herself, but Scully heard and let out an exasperated sigh.

“What’s going on? There has to be something.” She stared at Rachel and raised her eyebrow, her expression serious. Rachel reached for her hand and Scully squeezed it gently. “Rachel...please.”

“I had a doctors appointment the other day.”

“Oh, God,” Scully breathed, her eyes closing briefly before looking at Rachel again. She smiled and squeezed Scully’s hand.

“I know. I was so scared. I thought the worst. I was feeling tired, nauseous… I thought for sure I was sick. I did a lot of googling and I was convinced, aside from Covid, I also had many different ailments. Many ailments. All except for one.” She smiled at Scully and she furrowed her brow. Rachel continued to smile at her and then the realization hit her like a jolt of electricity.

“You’re pregnant,” she breathed, her mouth dropping open. Rachel nodded, tears filling her eyes. “Oh my God. Rachel…” She set her coffee down beside her and pulled her in for a hug, laughing and crying simultaneously.

Rachel hugged her back with one arm, the other still holding her cup and Scully could hear her crying. She closed her eyes and smiled, shaking her head as the nervous feeling in her stomach dissipated, replaced with excitement at the knowledge of a little baby for the two of them.

“I’m so happy for you,” she whispered, pulling back and staring at Rachel, her hands moving to her upper arms, smiling happily. “A baby! Rachel…”

“Uhh… well it’s actually not just a baby.” She smiled through her tears and Scully inhaled sharply.

“What? Twins?!” Rachel nodded and Scully’s mouth dropped open as Rachel laughed, wiping at her eyes. “Oh my God.” She hugged her again, completely speechless, her mind racing.

“I can’t believe it myself,” Rachel said softly, hugging her back. “But…” She pulled back and set her drink down. Reaching into her purse, she took out an ultrasound picture and smiled as she handed it to her.

Through her tears, Scully saw the undeniable evidence of two embryos. Tracing her fingers over them, she shook her head and sighed.

“Oh, Rachel.” She looked at her and they both began to cry, hugging again and laughing at their tears.

Pulling back, she looked at the ultrasound picture once more and then handed it back to Rachel. Fishing in her pocket, she took out some napkins and handed a couple to Rachel.

“Okay,” Scully said, letting out a deep breath and wiping her eyes with a napkin. “I’m gonna need all the details.”

Rachel laughed and sighed as she looked at the picture and then at Scully, her smile radiant as she put it back in her purse. Taking a deep breath, she let it out and placed a hand on her stomach.

“I… a few weeks after the wedding, I noticed I was feeling really rundown. Tired and very emotional. I thought perhaps it was the excitement of the wedding being over and still being stuck in the Covid world. Just so much to deal with, you know?” Scully nodded, completely understanding how she felt. “It’s been a year now and I thought it was finally catching up to me. I’ve tried my best to keep busy through it all, with work, patients, and other activities, but when it snowed recently… I was stuck at home doing most of the calls online. After the last call one day, I burst into tears. Like… deep down from your toes kind of tears.” She shook her head and let out a breath. Scully touched her forearm and sighed with a nod.

She knew those types of tears.

“Walter came in and tried to console me, but I was past it. I just needed to cry.”

“God, I know exactly what you mean.”

“So after I’d calmed down, I took a bath, took some ibuprofen and went to bed. I couldn’t explain to Walter how I was feeling without crying, so I just went to sleep, hoping the next day would be better.”

“And was it?” Scully asked softly and Rachel smiled with a nod.

“It was. Walter had made us breakfast and in my office there were four small bouquets of flowers set around the room. Also, a bar of my favorite white chocolate was on the desk. I was extremely touched and happy… until I looked at the calendar and realized it was nearly Valentine’s Day and I hadn’t gotten a gift for him.” She looked at Scully and shook her head. “I was so upset and… it caused us to fight. A stupid fight, really. He said he didn’t need anything and I… I love him so much and I had wanted to get him something to symbolize that and I had failed.”

“Oh, Rachel…” Scully laughed softly and Rachel smiled, understanding that she was not laughing at her, but at the situation.

“We went to bed angry and in the morning, I apologized to him, explaining why it was important to me. He listened, but still said he didn’t need a gift. He knew… knows… that I love him and a gift wouldn’t make that any less true.”

“Smart man,” Scully said and Rachel nodded as she looked at the ground, her eyes seeing something that was not there.

“We were okay after that… a little more careful around each other… almost cautious.” She sighed and Scully knew that was not the end of the story. “A couple of weeks after that, I realized I’d missed my period and I didn’t even for a second consider it might be pregnancy. Instead, I thought it was perimenopause. I was tired, emotional, had no desire for sex, and just felt… blah.”

Scully smiled and nodded, knowing how she had felt when she was pregnant. Some days she had to push past her irritability and fatigue, feeling very blah herself.

“I hated the possibilities, still not even imagining it could be pregnancy. I just… I thought I was changing and didn’t know what to say, how to face it, so I pushed it aside, pretended to be happy and like myself again. Everything I tell my patients not to do.” They both laughed softly and Scully nodded.

“But that thought process didn’t last long,” she said knowingly.

“No, it did not,” Rachel whispered. Scully laughed softly again, taking Rachel’s hand and squeezing gently. “I made dinner one night, wanting everything about it to be perfect, and instead it was a complete disaster. I was embarrassed at the amount of tears I cried because of it, it being such an inane thing. Walter tried to calm me, telling me exactly that, and I exploded. I told him I was sure I was going through the change in my life and I… Dana…” She squeezed Scully’s hand and took a shaky breath, licking her lips and wiping at her eyes with the napkin in her other hand.

They sat for a few minutes, holding hands and breathing deeply. They each took a drink from their cups, setting them back down as Rachel nodded, indicating she was ready to continue.

“We fought again, worse this time and I just… I felt terrible and I started crying again, telling him I was scared. That he would perhaps rethink our marriage, us, and I…” She shook her head and let go of Scully’s hand to rub her stomach slowly. “He came over and held me tight, telling me that nothing like that could be further from the truth, that he loved me very much, and if something was happening to me, it was happening to both of us.” Scully smiled and nodded.

“Smart man,” she said again and Rachel laughed even as her eyes filled with tears.

“He is,” Rachel agreed. “So I called the doctor to make an appointment and find out what was wrong with me. They did panels, asked how I was feeling and gave me a prescription for anxiety medication. I didn’t think it was that, so I didn’t fill it, waiting to see if the bloodwork showed any abnormalities.” She smiled and laughed, shaking her head.

“They called the next morning, asking me to come down and I was terrified that something awful was wrong. Walter and I drove down and I kept wiping my eyes, unable to stop crying.” She drew in a breath and smiled. “A doctor came into the room with a huge smile and I was so confused. When he said the test results came back positive for only one thing, pregnancy, well…” She laughed and Scully smiled, remembering that feeling all too well.

Both times.

“He laughed, seeing that he had shocked us, and said we needed to do an ultrasound to see what was going on with the baby. I think that was when it snapped us out of our frozen state. I was brought down to another room and had to get undressed for the exam. Walter came in when I was ready and I just stared at him, my shock no doubt mirroring his own.” Scully smiled, but she felt a pang that when she had first found out she was pregnant, she had been alone.

Both times, she thought again and let out a breath.

“When the technician was ready, she did the exam and within seconds we heard the heartbeat. I honestly don’t know who cried harder, me or Walter.” She laughed and Scully’s eyes spilled over with tears she had not known were there. “We could see the heartbeat on the monitor and then the technician made a noise and laughed, asking if we could hear the heartbeats. We said yes and then seemed to understand what she meant. I stared hard at the monitor and saw there were definitely two separate fluttering hearts beating.”

Scully shook her head and closed her eyes as tears ran down her cheeks, knowing that feeling. Every time she and Mulder had gone for a checkup and heard that fast heartbeat, it brought her to tears as they witnessed the second miracle that neither of them had ever expected.

“I never thought… I didn’t think I would ever find myself here. I told you at the Christmas tree farm nearly two years ago that I was too old and now I’m two years older. Forty five, high risk, well I suppose double high risk,” she said with a small chuckle and a sigh. “I have a lot going against me… but I’m going to be a mother. A mother to two little babies. I… God.” She covered her face and cried, her shoulders shaking. Scully put an arm around her and rubbed her back, letting her cry and saying nothing.

She watched the fountain spraying water and focused on the sound of it, letting it calm her, hoping her calm would transfer to Rachel through her touch. Her cries began to subside, but Scully left her hand on her back, moving it slowly as she wiped her eyes.

“When I was pregnant, both times, but mostly with Faith, I had moments of crying over nothing, unable to stop my tears. It was actually worse after she was born, my hormones all over the place, but…” She sighed, remembering how commercials and certain songs would make it feel like her heart was literally breaking. “But, look at Faith. Every tear and worry was worth it to bring her into this world.”

“I know and I agree,” Rachel said as she moved her hands and took a deep shaky breath. “I have my worries, but I’m so happy.” She smiled through her tears and grasped Scully’s hand again. “I can’t wait to meet them.”

“Me either,” Scully said, letting go of her hand and hugging her tight, smiling happily. She felt her phone vibrating in her pocket and she pulled back, knowing without a doubt that it was Mulder wanting to see if she knew what he knew. “Just a second.” Rachel nodded, wiping her eyes as Scully took her phone from her pocket and read his messages.

I’m assuming you know by now. Come home and bring Rachel with you. They can pick up her car later on their way back home.

Oh, and how about you two pick up something for an early dinner? I think we could all do with a sit down meal. Make a game plan.

Or two. 😉

She smiled at his pun and glanced at Rachel before she typed back her message.

Give us another half an hour here.

Putting her phone back in her pocket, she sighed and looked at Rachel.

“Can I see the ultrasound picture again?” Rachel smiled, nodding as she took it out and handed it to her. Scully smiled as she stared at it and shook her head. “So when are you due?”

“October.”

“Ohhh… same as Mulder and Faith. We could all have one giant party!” Scully said excitedly and Rachel laughed.

“Well, it will most likely be earlier. Lots of risks to consider, so…” She smiled and Scully nodded and then she saw her blush.

“What?” she asked and Rachel bit her lip, her eyes now looking in her lap.

“It was the magic of the tree farm,” she whispered and Scully frowned, not understanding what she meant. Rachel looked up and the smile on her face was different than Scully had ever seen.

“There is a little house on the property there. Not the one full of decorations and all that, but a real house. It’s small, but it’s there, though I doubt you’ve ever seen it. When I was younger, I would visit them there on the weekends when they would come out to sell trees. Howard had it built when the kids were younger, not wanting to be away from the family and not wanting to drive home late at night after he’d been there all day.” Rachel sighed and hummed with a smile. “It’s not overly large, a two bedroom cabin style home. My parents would come out and we would stay with them and their little granddaughter. It was always fun.”

“I had no idea that was there,” Scully said in surprise.

“It’s back a ways. A chance to have their life separate, you know?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll have to take you guys out there this year.” Scully nodded with a smile and Rachel looked at the ultrasound picture she still held. “They let us have it for a week, seeing as Christmas was over and hotels were not exactly ideal. We… we spent a lot of time, um…” Scully saw her blush again and she laughed.

“Apparently,” she teased, gesturing to the picture and Rachel laughed, her cheeks still pink.

“I was taking birth control, I have been for years, mostly because of my periods, but of course for other things. Obviously, it doesn’t always work.”

“Not always, no…” Scully agreed quietly, thoughts on her own worries and troubles with birth control.

“I’m exceedingly glad that was the case,” Rachel said and Scully smiled at the picture and then at her.

“Rachel… I am so happy for you. For both of you. I know you must have millions of thoughts constantly racing through your head… but I’m here for any questions you may have. Elise, you know her, she’s an amazing OB, and I’m sure she would be happy to see you, unless you have a doctor in mind.”

“No, I… that was why I wanted to meet with you. To ask you questions about everything. I didn’t want you to take offense… but you were…”

“Older when I had Faith? I most definitely was,” she said with a laugh and Rachel visibly relaxed. “I know and believe me, I had my fears and worries.”

More than you know, she thought, but did not voice it to Rachel.

“I’m nervous, scared, excited, worried, happy, and then nervous again,” Rachel admitted and Scully nodded, looking down at the picture.

“As most women are, but one thing I know for certain, you will be an amazing mother. I’ve seen you with Faith, how you care for her. No child, or two children, will be loved more than them.” She gestured to the picture and Rachel nodded with tears in her eyes. “The tree farm… working its magic once again.”

“I think it was New Year’s Eve. We uh, well, had some champagne… a lot of champagne, and Prince was playing...”

“Oh,” Scully said with a nod. “Say no more. I completely understand.” They laughed and Scully handed her back the ultrasound picture. “A New Year’s baby. A new year, new start, new life… lives. It seems fitting.”

“Yeah,” Rachel whispered and Scully smiled as she stood up, picking up her cup and taking one last drink before throwing it away.

“How would you like to join us for dinner tonight?” she asked and Rachel nodded with a smile.

“I should give Walter a call first, see what he’s been doing and then we could come over.” She reached for her phone and Scully laughed.

“I don’t think that you’ll find him at home. He’s actually at our house right now.”

“What? He… he is?” She glanced at her phone and shook her head. “He didn’t say anything to me about going over there. He didn’t send me a message either.” She looked at Scully and shook her head again.

“It seems that the two of you just needed to talk to someone,” Scully said and Rachel nodded slowly.

“Except, I only told him I was going for a drive,” she said softly.

“Well…” Scully said, seeing that they may need to have a talk, both of them obviously worried. “I think we should do that- go for a drive… but with a destination in mind. Or two, as we’ve been asked to bring home some dinner.” She smiled and Rachel stood up, shaking her head.

“My car is here…”

“You two can pick it up on the way back home,” she suggested and Rachel smiled with a nod, picking up her cup and throwing it away.

“Well… then I think that sounds like a great idea.”

“Good.”

They put their masks back on and Scully hooked her arm through Rachel’s as they walked back to the car, a smile on her face, beyond happy for this new turn of events, not one worry in her heart.

As they drove home, many to-go bags of food on the back seat, Scully began to think of items that could be given to them. Clothes, shoes that had never even been worn, blankets, bottles, even the crib once the time drew nearer. She smiled as she looked over at Rachel, her hand absentmindedly rubbing at her still flat stomach with a soft smile on her face.

Boxes were already beginning to fill in her mind, the items lovingly packed up for the two small babies who would use them, already so loved, with six months left as they all awaited their arrival.

#The X-Files #XF Fanfic #Family Life: The Story Beyond the Series #Friends #Caring #Sharing Good News #Discussions #Happy News

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frightfurtabby · 3 years

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HimiKiyo Week Day 6: I Melt With You

// 2nd to last day, the theme is sickness and health. Emi told me about a headcanon about Kiyo having Marfan Syndrome a while ago so I used that for this. And to add another layer I’ve made a nod to a grey’s anatomy episode we watched on a date night. sadly i dont think thats enough for me to be able to tag that fandom tho smh//

Word Count: 1299

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34224124

Amino: (coming soon)

Korekiyo always had health problems in some way since they could remember. It wasn’t easy to live with but Sister had always had it worse. Of course she did, because her ailments were rarer and deadlier, as she frequently reminded them back in those days. It was all about her so without her things went south for several years. (More so than they had been)

Himiko also knew what it was like to lose somebody to something like that. It was one of the things that they bonded over in their early days knowing one another. It took a few conversations to fully open up about that. It took even longer then for Kiyo to confess there was a reason for their lanky appearance and spindly fingers: Marfan Syndrome.

A big catch was that their heart was bad. It could be fixed with surgery, but that and the medications were simply managing it and the dozens or so other symptoms. It, like many of the disorders Kiyo’s sister had while she was alive, was incurable.

Any surgery had risks, but the risks were better than risking the damage to the arteries getting any worse. It had finally come time for the procedure. There were indicators their heart would start to get worse.

Himiko was in the room when the doctor broke the news. In a cruel twist it was she that seemed to need the most comforting about the news. Kiyo kept her up on their lap and brushed fingers across her hand.

“I’m going to be fine, darling.” They told her before giving a peck on the cheek. “Recovery might take a while but when I’m all better, I’ll be better than ever before. Stronger.”

“You’ll really be okay honey?” She clung to them like a koala.

“Yes. I promise that.” A promise sealed with a kiss on her lips. That was the kind that should never be broken, so they knew they had to fight.

There were little conversations day to day about it. It was first caught extremely early as many genetic conditions were. It started with eye problems and scoliosis. A few more observations and tests and it was the answer. Plus, there was a family history with it due to one grandfather having had it.

Kiyo had a morbid sense of humor and one of the jokes was about how they were “Always in and out of the hospital, so why not have something interesting to stay longer. Make things a lot more convenient”

Himiko knew she had to stay in the hospital overnight tonight, so she put a call in to an old friend to house-sit and make sure to feed their kitty child, Ryo. It was the night before the big day.

“Thank you.” Kiyo said, propped up a bit on the pillows. They figured they may get some shut-eye soon. “I got a little sad, but then I thought about how happy he’ll be when his mommies come back home.” They smiled.

“I’ll be glad when this is all over.” she put her phone under the pillow on the visitors couch she was going to sleep on before walking over to hold their hand. “If the doctors mess anything up I’ll sue.” She wasn’t kidding, and hoped it didn’t come to that.

A smile crossed Kiyo’s face as they gently returned her little hand squeeze. “I know you would. I trust that I’ll be fine here.”

She leaned in and gave a kiss. “Is there anything you’d like before bed?”

Stroking their chin in thought, an answer came with a slight delay. “Well… how about a bedtime story? I’ve read those to you many times, so this can be a good opportunity for your turn.”

“Hehe, I thought you might say something like that. So I came up with one already earlier today.” she explained, “So, I hope you’ll enjoy hearing this tale.” It was a relaxing one with a relatively light conflict. Many talking animals inhabited a lush green landscape with the yellow sun shining on them above.

Some of the denizens of this land had assumed a Kitsune had stolen lost items from them when things went missing solely due to the creature’s reputation. After a bit of detective work, starting from a single odd feather out in the nearby farm’s chicken coop led to the discovery that there was a visit from a Tengu and that had been the true culprit.

Kiyo enjoyed laying back and listening instead of telling for once, eyes closed as they listened and visualized what was going on in the story. Following it all along, walking in the shoes of the characters. As time passed they got sleepier, her voice soothing any worry they had.

Happy little yawns popped up here and there. Kiyo expended only a small bit of energy to lean up and nuzzle into her hand as she ran soft, gentle hands along their cheek or through their hair.

“Mmm, I know I tell you this a lot but you really are cuter than you’re given credit for.”

“Am I?” they asked, briefly opening their eyes to look up with a flutter.

“Yes, especially when you’re all sleepy like this. You should rest up.”

The next day Kiyo woke up a little bit later than usual. It was still morning but the sun was approaching the peak it would have at midday. The curtains were open so that meant either one of the doctors or nurses or Himiko opened them.

Their wife was up and about, returning a moment later. “Oh, you’re awake! You were still resting when I got up. I brought you something.”

In her hands was a bottle of water and some toast with jam.

“It’s not very much but since it's today it has to be light.”

Kiyo nodded. “Well, it is breakfast in bed served by my beloved. I’d say that its enough~”

They took a drink first and then a few bites of their food. Himiko walked up for a hug when they’d finished eating.

“So, how do you want to spend the rest of the time before they take you in?”

“I’m not sure, there’s plenty to read or we could watch the television.”

“I’ll watch with you.” she said, pulling a seat up.

Kiyo flipped through the channels until something interesting came up and then put the remote on the bedside table. The couple held hands and tried to keep away the anxiety and worry for a few more hours.

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

Hours later the Doctor came in, asking if they were ready. To which Kiyo nodded.

They looked over to Himiko and gave her hand a squeeze. “I’ll see you again soon honey. Don’t worry about me too much.”

She kissed them and Kiyo reached up around her shoulders to return the kiss.

She waved them goodbye for now, adding before her wife left “I’ll try, but I can’t help but worry at least a little.”

She occupied herself more or less successfully. At least she hadn’t freaked herself out badly. They came back in one piece, still under, just a few hours later. Hours that dragged on yet felt like nothing at all when she knew they were going to be okay.

Her huge grin never left her. Kiyo woke up and looked up so happily tears just about formed.

As the two hugged close, Kiyo said their first words since before the surgery. “Told you I’d be back, This wasn’t so bad now was it?”

“I guess not. I’ll always be here no matter what else you’ll need” Himiko knew there may be a need for further surgery in the future, given what she knew about their medical history from before they met. “That’s what I signed up for after all.”

#himikiyo week #himikiyo #himiko yumeno #korekiyo shinguji #danganronpa v3 #danganronpa #fanfic #writing

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rainandhotchocolate · 4 years

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Blackout - Part 10

A/N WHEW PART 10 we are 20k deep in this fic friends what a wild ride. This one is a bit intense sorry - but the next one will be fluff city promise ;) Enjoy!!

(Last section of part 9)

“Again?” Y/N watched her sip some coffee and smile awkwardly at her. “Lily… was I at this job before I went to hospital?”

~~~~~~

Part 10

“No, you weren’t.” Lily grimaced as she replied, staring up at her awkwardly. Y/N felt something click into place in her head, the emotion that had been swirling around her, the feeling that something wasn’t right.

“For how long.”

“Six months.”

“SIX MONTHS?” Y/N yelped, “I haven’t been at this job for over half a year? Why did they even take me back?”

“The healers told us it would be best to keep you doing what you remember doing before the attack, so we reached out and they said it would be fine.”

“Did you know why I quit last time?”

“Yes… but I wanted you-“

“To get there myself yeah, yeah,” Y/N huffed, “So you’ve been watching me have a shit time at work every day, knowing that I had already realised this and left months ago.”

“Well that makes it seem harsher than our thought process.”

“You keep saying our.” Y/N narrowed her eyes at Lily who was now looking a bit sheepish. Good.

“Well, James, myself, the boys, Marlene-“

“What you’ve been having fun secret chats about me?”

“Y/N this isn’t some secret club where we talk about you, we were- are trying to let you heal properly, and if that meant reliving some things then that was what we were going to do.”

Y/N pressed a finger to her temple, trying to relax the headache that had been building over the last few hours. Or probably days. She took in a deep breath and looked around the room, thanking Merlin that it was late in the day and the area surrounding the little café was almost empty.

“I know, this is just very overwhelming.”

“Are you ok?” Lily leaned forward and placed a hand on Y/N’s shoulder.

“Yeah, it’s just a headache, the healers said this is common in the weeks after an injury.” Y/N winced as a throbbing pain reached her temples again.

“Maybe I should take you home?”

Y/N nodded, grimacing as the pain became worse, moving down into her neck.

“Come on, I’ll send a note up to your office as we leave.”

Lily helped Y/N up and led her towards the elevator.

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

Sirius had only felt helpless a few times in his life. The first was when his mother taught Regulus and himself how to use the crutiatus curse and then practice on each other. The second was when he saw his mother’s eyes, black as the night, staring daggers at him when he came home for the Christmas in his fifth year and stuck posters of Muggle girls and Gryffindor merchandise across the walls of his bedroom, cursing them to stay up forever. This was the third.

“So, we’ve found our favourite member of the Black household, or perhaps we can’t call you that anymore?”

The voice of Lucius Malfoy hissed in his ear, making him growl. He hated that it still stung, the burn that he was sure sat in his parents drawing room where Sirius’s face was meant to be.

“I didn’t know I was your favourite, Malfoy, I would have dressed up more to see you,” Sirius crooned in return, trying not to wince as he pulled back a chunk of his hair and dragged him backwards into the room Sirius and Marlene had just been leaning against.

“Now, do you want to tell us what you two are doing here, or would you rather we get it out of you ourselves. Both ways work for us.”

“You keep saying us,” Sirius tried to keep his voice light, but found he was struggling to stand upright and edge away from Lucius as he kept a tight grip on his hair. “Who is the other lovely death eater addressing us tonight.”

“That would be me,” a slimy voice crawled out from the edge of the room and Sirius felt his blood coil. Snivellus.

“Ahh Snivellus, pity that’s the case isn’t it, Marls,” Sirius tried to shake his head in mock sadness but let out a cry of pain as Lucius kicked out his legs and kept his hands wrapped around his hair so it felt like they were coming out of his roots.

“Couldn’t agree more, Sirius,” Marlene called from the other side of the room and Sirius felt his heart lighten slightly at her voice. At least we weren’t killed on sight.

“And why’s that?” Severus growled at them, walking closer to Sirius so he could see his face in the soft moonlight, holding Marlene with a wand at her throat.

“Cause we were really hoping to catch someone important tonight.” Sirius sighed loudly and winked at Marlene who grinned. She mouthed Now.

Quickly, Marlene had elbowed Snape in the ribs and ducked out of his wands range rolling out of sight to presumably get her wand. Simultaneously, Sirius twisted under himself, letting his hair twist into a ponytail in Lucius’s hand and kicked towards him, hard. He landed right between the legs and grinned to himself as he snatched Lucius wand and pointed it towards Snape.

“Step the fuck away from her.” Sirius snarled towards Snape who was circling Marlene like a hawk, one hand pressed hard on her hand that was outstretched towards her wand.

“Or you’ll do what? Don’t have James to save you now do you.” Snape turned to look at him and smile as he pressed down and dug his foot into her hand. Marlene let out a blood curdling scream that echoed around the room. Before he could even think, Sirius had yelled out a curse he thought he’d never use on another living soul.

“Crucio!”

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

Lily and Y/N reached the Potter’s in record time, though Y/N wasn’t sure if she might have begun to drop in and out of consciousness as Lily apparated her in sections across different towns.

“James open up, it’s me!”

“What do I call you when we’re alone.”

“Christ almighty, Lilypad, now let us in!”

“Us?” James echoed as he unlocked the door and Lily powered through past him and into the living room with Y/N chuckling beside her.

“Good to know you have your sense of humour.” Lily rolled her eyes and got Y/N comfortable on the couch, “James, can you call St Mungos?”

“St Mungos? What’s going on?” James followed them into the living room and sat next to the fire, grabbing some floo and yelling “St Mungos!”

“This is St Mungos for magical ailments and injuries, what can we help with today.” A false sounding voice came from the fire.

“Y/N Y/L/N, previous patient, going through – Lily you haven’t told me what’s happening yet?”

“She’s getting headaches and keeps fainting, has been coming on over a few days.”

“Please wait a few moments,” the voice called again, “Your concerns are of utmost importance to us.”

“Lovely,” Lily grumbled, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine, just need to get some rest, they said this would happen sometimes.” Y/N murmured, closing her eyes as she lay back on the couch. It felt like there were flashing lights pulsating into her brain, thrumming on her veins. She just wanted to fall asleep for a week.

A new voice came from the fireplace, a male one, familiar sounding.

“Whilst this is definitely commonplace for anyone who has gone through bodily trauma, we want to keep a close eye on it all the same.”

“Is there anything we can do?” James was quieter this time, as if she couldn’t hear him as he sat a metre away.

“She should rest, not do anything strenuous, drink lots of water – honestly there’s not much more to do than that, unless you have some numbing potions for the pain. If it lasts longer than a few days, and if any fever or more intense symptoms come up then send word again.”

“Ok, thanks.”

The light dimmed in the room and Y/N presumed that the face had disappeared from the fireplace. There was a few moments of silence before Lily and James spoke. They were likely having a conversation with expressions only to avoid scaring her. The pain had eased with her eyes shut, but she was still getting painful throbs across her neck and temple, and there was light bursting behind her eyes in pulses.

“I don’t know whats going on there, but it sounds like I won’t die, and I would really love one of those pain destroying potion whatevers,” Y/N mumbled, her voice soft from the effort.

“Yeah of course, I’ll bring you upstairs, Lil can you get the –“

“Yep, on it.”

Y/N felt arms wrap around her and then suddenly pull her upwards, carrying her presumably up towards the guest bedroom. She felt like sinking downwards into his arms until she was asleep, but the pain kept bringing her back up to the surface.

Eventually James lay her on her bed, pulled off her shoes and pulled up the blankets so they were covering her properly. Soft padding heading towards her bed indicated that Lily had followed them up.

“Here, sit up for a second,” Lily helped Y/N pull herself up and began pouring things into her throat. Y/N coughed at the coldness of the potion trickling down, but it quickly began to numb most of her body and she felt heavy and tired… so tired…

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

Sirius hissed, pain coursing through every vein, every muscle, every tiny particle that could have made up his body. He’d long since trained himself not to react, but he was sure his eyes were betraying him, bulging out and searching for Marlene who he heard scream moments before, but it was fading away as if they were dragging her somewhere else. Get the fuck up, now, do it, NOW.

He felt the pain ease slightly as whoever was casting took a moment before casting again and he took it, using every inch of strength he had left in his body. It felt like he was made of water, each limb reforming into flesh and bone as he pulled out his wand and cast across the room. Flames burst from each corner of the room, the pain easing almost completely as it did, the caster yelling loudly across from him. Sirius swung around to where he heard the noise, spotting Snape and flicking his wand towards him.

Snape was momentarily caught off guard but dodged out of the way and threw a spell back at him.

“Protego!” Sirius gasped, his feet slipping against the carpet as he edged towards the door and away from the fire.

“Don’t think you can get away from me so easily,” Snape growled at him, his eyes dark and menacing.

“If there’s anything in this life I’m counting on it’s being able to easily dodge you.” Sirius winked at him and threw a large stone like object into the room. Snape stepped back quickly, his arm outstretched – and then there was darkness, the room covered almost entirely in black dust. Sirius moved quickly, sprinting towards the door and sliding through it before Snape had a chance to fire off a spell in his direction.

He kept running down the hallway, listening closely for voices before he heard the snarl of Marlene’s voice behind him and he skidded to a stop and smashed into the door he could hear her from.

Lucius turned around quickly, glaring dangerously at Sirius but he shot a spell towards him instantly. Lucius blocked it with ease, but it gave Marlene the second’s distraction she needed to slide forwards off her chair and slam her feet into the backs of Lucius’s knees. He fell forwards and Sirius bounded over to her, grabbing her arm and pulling her towards the nearest window.

“Ever done a moving apparition before?” Sirius said, unlatching the window and opening it.

“I’m always ready to try new things.” Marlene grimaced.

“Ready?”

“Let’s go.”

They jumped from the window, Sirius closing his eyes and spinning as fast as he could as he thought of home. Of being with Y/N.

Taglist:

@averytruerayofsunshine @siriuslyjanhvi @blushingskywalker @blackpinkdolan @thebabblingbookworm @cherrie511 @imlukesnirvana @avengersassemblee @maraudersandco @sly-vixen-up2nogood @sirius-lysad @evyiione @minerva26love @aikeia @gollyderek @greatwombatblaze @songforhema @your-typical-giggle @myownviperroom @hermionie-is-my-queen @demiwitch527 siobhanhope delightfuldela nadinissavage fleurmoon treestarrrrrrrr @with1love1anu @findzelda @brighteyedmichelle a-dorky-book-keeper placeforcoolusername damalseer @approved-by-dentists @placeforcoolusername @eury-dice3 @bookscoffeeandracoons obsessedwithrandomthings askyandquiteaview leftstarfishavenue

#rainandhotchocolate #sirius x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius x you #sirius black x you #sirius black fanfic #marauders x you #marauders x reader #maraduers imagine

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arsnovacadenza · 4 years

Text

Jeanpoleon fic- Hope is a Dish too Soon Finished

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Characters: Jean, Napoleon, Sebastian, Yukari (MC), mentions of Mozart

Pairings: Jean x Napoleon, Mozart x MC (minor)

Rating: G (can be read as pre-slash)

Word count: 2756

It had been well past midnight when Yukari finally left Mozart's music room. The man had kept her after dinner, saying 'the quill would only feel inspired enough to move if Yukari was around' or 'no notes would come to him if Yukari didn't call upon them".

She chuckled fondly every time she recalled Mozart speaking those exact words without so much as an exaggeration in his voice.

Although, Yukari did dread having to walk down the long hallways this late. With no lamp to guide her, there was only the moonlight illuminating the path ahead. It was eerie, vampires lurking around in the shadows or no.

But Yukari had full trust in the residents, now that she's become a member of their eccentric clan. Even Arthur was at least respectful to leave her alone (maybe it was because of Mozart's protection, but who knew).

Yukari tried her best to distract herself from the unsettling surroundings. Failing to shake off her trepidation, she broke into a small run.

Of course, sprinting while closing your eyes was never a good idea, and it didn't take long before she was knocked back by a sturdier body, one that she didn't notice was advancing towards her in the darkness. "Ow, ow," she stumbled back before focusing her sight on the other person. "I'm sorry! Are you hurt?"

Greeting her back, however, was the haggard face of a specter. The figure appeared gaunt, looming over Yukari with a hollow eye and what looked like a hole on the other side of its head. She immediately yelped.

"Eeep!" Where's Mozart? Where is he when you need him the most?!

Yukari cautiously watched the strange creature before her, which seemed to be coming to its senses.

"Oh," a deep voice reverberated. "It's you, Mademoiselle."

It was a voice Yukari knew so well. "Jean? I'm so sorry! Are you hurt?" She fussed, despite knowing that nothing could injure the stout former soldier.

But Jean just blinked vacantly at her, and without a word, gently shoved her to the side. The man went his way, visibly staggering despite going in a straight line.

Yukari stared at the ghost’s back as it disappeared into obscurity.

"And just like that, he glided out of sight! He looked, well, he looked dead! I mean, I know he's undead, but—"

Yukari had to pause when Napoleon interrupted her with a loud snort.

Sebastian regarded him with an uncharacteristically stern look. "With all due respect, Monsieur Napoleon, this is an especially concerning matter."

The addressed man held down his laughter immediately. "Forgive me," he changed into a grave expression. "But, Sebastian, you know how he likes to go down the cellars for some Rouge. At least we know he's not starving himself this time."

"Although, to be completely honest," he added. "I'd been momentarily afraid that he'd attack and bite Yukari out of thirst, but I'm glad he didn't. In any case, I apologize on his behalf." He bowed his head slightly towards her.

"No! No!" Yukari interjected, "It was also my fault for not looking where I was heading! But, the point is, I was concerned because he seemed really out of it. I thought the way he moved was sluggish. At least, he seemed very different from the Jean that likes to join Mozart and me, or the Jean I see in the stables with you, Napoleon. I don't know, can vampires get sick?"

Sebastian nodded. "Correct. Even lesser vampires can experience physical ailment from time to time. And indeed, Monsieur Jean, in my observation, is likely in....less than ideal health."

He moved towards the shelf to align some Blanc decanters. "It's as Monsieur Napoleon says, his intake of Rouge and Blanc has so far been stable. But lately, I've been retrieving his meal trays to find most of them left uneaten."

He looked towards Yukari with a smile. "It was disheartening, considering his appetite had gotten better since you began helping out in the kitchen."

"Eheheheh, not really! I only repeat what you've taught me, Sebastian!" She chuckled as a blush spread across her cheeks. "I mean, I do admit I'm a bit proud of myself for mastering French cuisine one dish at a time. But, I don't think I can hold a candle to Napoleon here."

"You flatter me, Yukari." The emperor smirked. "Unfortunately, he rarely ever leaves his tower, much less come down to the kitchen when I'm cooking."

"Still, it bothers me that he hasn't been attending our sparring seasons lately," Napoleon examined the knife he was holding in contemplation. "Yukari, has he been visiting Mozart lately?"

The girl shook her head. "No. Mozart seems bothered about it as much as you do."

Sebastian chimed in, "Now that you mentioned it, this morning Herr Mozart himself asked me whether I'd seen Monsieur Jean lately. As far as I know, Monsieur Jean only comes down to the stables to take his horse out into town.”

"Trying to manage his weapons shop without help from Mozart?" Napoleon asked humorlessly. "I can't let this continue."

He strode towards the kitchen door. "Sebastian, come help me in the library after finishing your work. Yukari, do you mind if I borrow him later?"

"Oh, no! He's all yours!" Yukari eyed Sebastian, who was grinning discreetly. "Are you planning on doing something?"

“I am.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “Just you wait.”

Ages ago, Jean would have wandered the brightly lit halls early in the evening, spooking everybody he reached out to like a man in a desert aching for water.

Right now, however, the pitch darkness made it easier for his nightly strolls to the cellar, where he'd empty vials of Rouge before returning to his cot. Without anybody finding out.

But he did bump into Mozart's lover, whom he startled as much as she did him. This time, he'd have to proceed more carefully, or he'd run to others like Sebastian —or even worse, Leonardo.

He'd caught wind of Isaac barging into the kitchen and drinking every single bottle of Rouge on the shelf. Not only was Jean trying to avoid needless company, but he also wanted to prevent awkward encounters the morning after.

His frame cast shadows on the wine-colored carpeting, which now looked blue under the moonlight.

Within this condemned body is a ghost longing to be erased from this undesiring world.

So lost was Jean in thought that he wasn't aware of a hand that gently pushed against his chest to stop him.

Napoleon smiled upon gazing into the (sadly devoid) eye of his quarry.

"Caught you," he spoke softly. "Come with me. This is what you get for missing our training sessions."

Wordlessly and without a fight, Jean allowed the former emperor to pull him by his wrist.

So thin. Napoleon contemplated. My judgment was correct.

Jean followed Napoleon into the warmly illuminated kitchen, where a rich, meaty scent greeted him upon entering. He spotted an earthenware pot sitting on the stove.

"Come over here, Jean," Napoleon had already pulled a chair at the table where he and Isaac (and sometimes Sebastian and Yukari) gathered every time he made a dish.

Jean only looked at the table, then back at Napoleon's face.

The emperor laughed, his voice akin to the ringing of bells in the otherwise silent kitchen. "Why look at me like that? Come on, let's get you to your seat."

Jean allowed the other Frenchman to take his arm gingerly and lead him around the table. After making sure that (the still dazed) Jean is comfortable in his seat, Napoleon took off his cape and draped it on the opposite chair. "Wait there. I'll join you in a minute,"

Jean quietly watched the back of Napoleon's white shirt as he moved about by the stove, scooping and pouring its content into a smaller bowl.

Why is he doing this?

Why...for me?

Napoleon turned, carrying the bowl and placing it on the table. He pushed it closer towards Jean until the steam rose in front of his face.

Jean inspected the surface of the soup. He could make out carrots, cabbages, potatoes, chunks of turnip, and what seemed to be pork.

The scent was a familiar one.

Seeing that Jean still didn't move to pick up the spoon that he had set, Napoleon called him out. "What's wrong?"

Jean averted his eye from the dish and looked down at his lap instead. "Where's yours?"

"Huh?"

"Shouldn't you have some yourself before offering them to me?"

Napoleon waved away the question with a smirk. "Oh, this is an experiment I've always wanted to try. I won't feel confident unless you test it for me."

Why me? "This is Potée Lorraine."

Napoleon nodded (somewhat too enthusiastically to Jean's liking), "It is. What about it?"

"It should be... never mind." Jean wanted to say: It should be a simple recipe. A man as capable of you can't possibly spoil it even if you try.

But Jean knew better than to dishearten a friend over a bad mood. His body might have been yearning for blood, but his senses were now urging him to indulge him something else.

For once, he didn't object to the idea of satisfying his (real and very human) hunger.

He picked up the spoon and dipped it into the edge of the bowl, picking up some bite-sized carrots and meat (Napoleon was always considerate, right down to the smallest things). When he slowly lifted the spoon towards his face, his heightened sense of smell was immediately overwhelmed by the fragrance.

Eventually, Jean blew at the spoon and gave himself a taste. The broth slid easily down his throat.

Napoleon watched him intently as Jean closed his eyes, seemingly trying to decipher what he'd just eaten. "Don't stop, Jean. I still have enough for both of us. And more.”

Obediently, the soldier went for another scoop. And then another, and another. With every gulp, Napoleon could see the color returning to his moon-pale skin.

In the middle of working through his soup, however, Jean lifted his face with a fully open eye.

"What is this?"

After uttering the short (but significant, at least to Napoleon's ears) question, Jean resumed devouring the entire soup.

Noticing the quiet hum of life returning to Jean's body, the former emperor leaned back in contentment.

Ah, this is why I cook for others.

It was always an encouraging sight, seeing Isaac gasp in awe at a Dijon chicken sandwich after a full day of overworking his brain. There was Sebastian's appreciation as a piece of a cara-age cured his homesickness.

Yukari, too, always complimented his macarons, but it was the sight of her delightfully nibbling away at the sweets that rewarded him more. He couldn't even stop himself from smiling too when Dazai remarked fondly on his successful recreation of tofu miso.

But this? This was another scene entirely.

Napoleon wasn't just discovering another side of Jean he'd always been longing to see, he was also expelling the toxicity that plagued the beautiful soldier from head to toe. Gone was the sullen and thirst in his eyes, replaced by a spark that got brighter and brighter every time Jean took another bite of the hearty meal.

The man could picture ghost-like smog pouring out of every part in Jean's body, eventually dissipating into the air. The humble Potée Lorraine didn't just serve to neutralize poison, but it also exorcised Jean's demons.

At least for now.

Jean dropped the spoon inside the bowl with a loud clunk and leaned back on the chair. His (now glove-less) hands moved to unbutton the top of his overcoat, showing off a patch of healthy, flustered skin underneath.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Napoleon finally saw Jean sweating and taking in deep breaths, as he always did every time they finished sparring.

"It was good," Jean spoke, his head still tilted towards the ceiling. "Hit the spot, you might say."

Napoleon chuckled and pulled up a chair right next to Jean. "My hypothesis was correct," he dabbed Jean's moist forehead with a napkin. "You really were starving, but not for blood."

Jean peered at him through a half-lidded eye. The light that the Potée Lorraine restored was swimming in it. "What do you mean?"

The emperor lifted the eyepatched soldier's wrist and showed it to him. "If you only needed blood for nourishment, your wrist shouldn't stay this small after drinking all that Rouge. What's more," He continued, still not dropping Jean's wrist. "The unusual paleness of your skin, your sunken eyes, and lack of enthusiasm for daily activities clued me in on your condition."

Napoleon finally settled the hand on Jean's lap. "As the Chinese saying goes, food is medicine. It can't cure your entire body in a short time, but it should lighten your heart enough to make you want to feel better."

"It's not much, offering you comfort food. I don't even know what your favorite food is. But Potée Lorraine was a popular dish in my time, and then I discovered that it had been around during your period too." He then smiled apologetically, "Forgive me if I didn't get the recipe correctly, though. You were born in Lorraine, so of course, you'd be more familiar with the original recipe."

"No," Jean shot back with a surprising amount of passion in his voice. "It was better. Much better than the elaborate dishes le Comte wants us to eat."

Napoleon couldn't quite comprehend what le Comte had to do with this. "Come again? "

Jean sighed, his previously serene visage changing into a regretful one. "I don't mean to undermine both Yukari and Sebastian's work. They did well, producing wonderful dishes that everybody enjoys."

"But?"

"But my body can no longer take it," Jean toyed with the edges of his cape. "I... My body rejected them. I felt repulsed at ingesting such luxurious food that I didn't deserve. I tried staving off my additional starvation with more Blanc, but it hasn't gone too well."

"In the end, I had no choice but to consume Rouge. With Yukari in the mansion, I can't risk attacking and drinking blood directly from a human. It was either forcing myself to drink that wretched thing or cause trouble."

Jean took a swig of the clear water that was offered to him by Napoleon. After wiping his mouth, he resumed. "Yet, no matter how much I drink every night , my hunger persists. I’ve been feeling immense guilt at the thought of Sebastian worrying over a depleting Rouge supply."

"But your simple dish," Jean lifted the bowl close to his face to inhale the lingering aroma. "Somehow melted away this stubborn craving of mine. As expected of our Napoleon."

The red that tinted Jean's cheeks as he spoke the words made Napoleon unknowingly blush too.

"W-well," Napoleon's embarrassment was still palpable. "There's more to your reluctance to eat extravagant dishes. I've been checking the menu, and it seems your body has been rejecting all that oil and fat. However,"

He put a hand on Jean's shoulder and gripped it. "Even you deserve to nourish yourself once in a while. I can talk at length about the finer points of French food, but we can all agree on one thing: whether it's a peasant dish or haute cuisine, good food is still good food."

"It seems that the stew hit more than just your taste buds," His finger jabbed at Jean's heart. "It probably went straight to your homesickness too. I learned that this dish originated from Lorraine, where Domrémy is—'

Napoleon felt Jean's cold fingers enveloping his.

"Please, no," Jean whispered, tears starting to form in the corner of his dark eye. "Let's not talk about Domrémy tonight."

Napoleon could only abide the plea in Jean's voice. He uncurled Jean’s fingers and noticed how easily they surrendered to being handled.

"In that case," Napoleon walked back to the stove and retrieved the pot. "Let's talk about something else while you help me finish this soup." He then carried another bowl and spoon, along with another glass of water.

Jean gave him a look of genuine astonishment. "Are you not saving it for others in the morning?"

"Nah, I made it just enough for the two of us," Napoleon sat back down. "I mean, assuming you're up for some more."

Jean seized the ladle with a determined expression, despite the flush under his eyes.

"Well, don't mind if I do."

Lots of love and thanks to Marine @weird-konpeito. I was alternating between wanting to write in onion soup and garbure, but she suggested Potée Lorraine instead .

According to what she told me, it’s a dish from Lorraine, where Jeanne/Jean’s birthplace (Domremy) is located. It’s also a popular dish in the Napoleonic Era. So, again, big thanks to Marine for contributing that idea!

@kisara-16 @thedollarstoresatan @delicateikemenmemes @ikesensrandomninjagirl24 @ashavazesa @hokkaido-the-hellbeast @nuclearwinterexe @lulu-the-hedgehog @longingkisses

#ikevam jean #ikevam napoleon #ikevam fanfic #ikevam bl #jeanpoleon #riri tries ikevam

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ajokeformur-ray · 3 years

Text

Suppressed emotions show up in your body // Rosie x Patrick // stomachache comfort.

A/N: omg @loveletterstoledger thank youuuu ~ 🥺💙 I’ve been feeling the need to love on you a lot more recently and this is perfect! Thank you for sending this in; I’ve personalised it for you as much as I could and I hope you enjoy this. I’m so sorry you suffer so greatly, darling, I wish I could take your pains away from you. I love you so much and I’m so proud of you and I’m thinking of you.💙💜💙💜

Word count: 1, 703.

Every single night as regular as clockwork would your stomach begin to cause you pain. And it was just that... pain. You couldn’t think of anything worse to suffer with every night, for the pain was unrelenting and so often did it only feed into your anxiety of physical illness. This then made your stomach ache worse, for suppressed emotions reveal themselves in one’s body, and so your anxiety increased and it was only the act of your beautifully expressive eyes meeting Pat’s chocolate ones which enabled you to take a deep and full bodied breath. It wasn’t much, but it was just enough to make you realise three vital truths which, when combined, effectively broke the vicious cycle of your thoughts:

You were going to be fine. You were safe. You were home.

Like a mantra did these words keep you company and they protected you from the worst of your anxious thoughts even when Pat was absent from the room for one reason or another; his love for you kept you warm even as the ghost of his touches left you feeling cold... empty.

The weeks crept past and the months bled into one another and still did you suffer nightly with the same ailment; most notably when finally had you succumbed to your exhaustion and gone to bed. It seemed as though moving to lay down was what worsened your stomach issues, and where before had you almost been excited to go to bed and to put the day’s responsibilities to rest, now did you spend your every waking moment dreading the day’s end, for it only ever brought you pain and an inability to physically rest. Lying down was too much and your body hurt in that position, and sleeping was impossible in such a state.

It was almost like there was a timer in the back of your mind; it was never a question of if you would get a stomach ache, it was only ever a question of when and now... now, it was happening again.

“Oh, love,” Pat’s deep voice shattered your silent reverie. Your stomach was already beginning to ache and unbeknown to you, you had winced; it was largely pre-emptive but Pat knew you on an even deeper level than he knew himself and he knew what was happening just as much as you did. Large, hot hands curved to the slopes of your shoulders and two thumbs rubbed soothingly along the slip of skin which was just beneath the collar of the shirt you wore. You shivered at your love’s touch and Pat smiled reverently. He loved the effect he had on you, even without his trying to. “Are you in any pain?”

“It’s...” You paused, giving Pat’s carefully worded question some real weight of consideration. You always tried to wordlessly thank him, to silently show gratitude for the lengths he went to for you and even because of you. “It’s uncomfortable but I’m not in pain yet. Not ‘til I lay down, anyway.” The smile which punctuated your self-assessment was one without humour and it only deepened the frown on your Aussie’s beautiful face.

“Have you taken anything, strawberry?” Pat’s hands slid in one fluid motion across your shoulders, up the column of your neck, and his fingers splayed behind your ears as he cupped your face in his hands. His thumbs rubbed in that same pattern across your cheeks and there was the sweetest smile on his face as blue met chocolate and Pat felt that last lost pieces of him, gone astray had they from the chaos of the day, click back home as he himself became dazed by the look in your eyes. You always looked at Pat like the world would end if you looked away, like he was the very reason you were living and breathing, and Pat knew that never again did he want anyone to look at him in the way that you did. You were his one and only, his soulmate and the one he lived for, the one he truly tried for, and he was so excited to marry you in less than a week. In this way did you both have a ticking timer in your minds; though Pat’s spoke of celebration as opposed to pain and suffering.

“No. I’m just gonna have some water and watch The Goldbergs.” It was the same thing every night; you would have a stomach ache but it would go away in an hour or two as soon as you began to drink some water.

Pat nodded, thinking, and you were gifted with the sight of a spark of something coming into his eyes, which only served to accentuate the green flecks which rested within his dark brown gaze. “I’ll grab your blanket. Go get comfy, love.” A tender, lingering kiss to your forehead and then Pat was off, his brown curls gently brushing against the tops of his broad shoulders as he moved throughout your home. He knew exactly where your comfort blanket was, and he also knew where your heart shaped pillow was; these two things would he retrieve before returning to your side. Nothing did Pat treat as seriously as he treated you, one of two people who truly saw him.

You did as Pat had suggested and got yourself into bed. You didn’t lie down, you only leaned up against the headboard and waited patiently for the love of your life. As you did so, you prepared the television and began to watch your comfort show. Pat kept you waiting not long and the door swung open, your blanket and pillow cradled in his arms. “What’d I miss?” His eyes were fixed on you, for nothing was more important to him than you were.

“Nothing. Just the opening credits.”

Pat moved to drape your blanket over your lap and handed you the pillow. “Good.” He eased himself down beside you and pulled the blanket over his lap, too. He swung an arm over your shoulders and brought you into the side of his body. “Are you all right?”

You shrugged. “I’m fine.” Even as you said that, your stomach cramped and you froze, your head feeling hot from the inside as your anxiety spiked.

“No,” Pat sighed in patience and in understanding as his grip across your shoulders tightened in silent reassurance. “You’re not fine. What can I do?” So emotionally intelligent and so intuitive was he that Pat once more had an idea dawn across his visage and then he said, “So, I, ah - I hit the books a few days ago because I wanted to be able to be here for you when you’re in pain. Lying on your right side with a stomach ache and rubbing it in clockwise circles is meant to help. You up for trying it, girlie?”

You shook your head. “It hurts to lie down, Pat. I don’t know why my body hates me.” You winced and your hand flew to your stomach as yet another cramp tightened your abdomen; it felt like you had swallowed cyanide or something similar, so acidic was the pain. It made you feel like you were going to be sick, which only increased the anxiety which pertained to physical illness, and it was a cruel irony that that only worsened the cramps. Your heart bloomed with love to know that Pat had put real work into trying to help you. Just when you thought you couldn’t love him any more, he only did something or said something which proved you wrong. The depths of your heart surprised you, sometimes, but never did it surprise Pat; you were the most beautiful person he knew, inside and out, and he only wanted you more as each day passed.

Pat sighed and nodded his head, his strong brows furrowed. He hated to see you in pain and to know that there was little he could do except to remain beside you. “Your body doesn’t hate you, hazel eyes. It’s doing its best to keep itself alive. It’s not hurting you on purpose. Be kind to it; because hurting it would only hurt you in the long run.” Pat’s tone was firm and yet somehow gentle all at once, tenderly concerned with you and for you was he. Pat kept an arm around your shoulders and reached across his own body and laid his hand on the opposite thigh, his calloused palm facing upwards. “Hold onto me, buttercup. Squeeze when it hurts.” His dark eyes moved to the bedside cabinet on your side of the bed. “And drink some water; flushes out faster.”

Though Pat wished with everything that he was that he could reach inside you and take away the reason your stomach was hurting; whether it was stress, something you had eaten and shouldn’t have, or something else, he knew that he could only remain by your side until it passed. Usually was it over in an hour or two, and indeed were you almost at the end of the fourth consecutive episode of The Goldbergs before you pulled your hand away from Pat’s. He flexed his fingers but kept his hand where you left it, in case you grabbed it again. His palm felt empty without your own hand in his, fingers interlocked tightly, and he found himself missing you even though you were right there beside him.

“Feeling okay, sweetheart?” Pat’s eyes were fixed upon your face and you nodded slowly.

“I... think it’s gone now.” You exhaled slowly, one hand on your stomach as you slowly, slowly, laid down in bed, still watching your comfort show. “Thank you for staying with me, patty-cake.”

You received a kiss to your cheek as Pat moved to lay down beside you, making sure that there was no pressure on your stomach as he did so. “It’s in those vows we’ll be taking soon, right? Er... something about ‘in sickness and in health’?” Pat flashed you a wink as he leaned over to kiss you, effectively sealing the vows neither of you would make for another few days, but, oh... you would honour them for the rest of your lives together.

#patrick verona #verose

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marshmallow-phd · 4 years

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I Hate You, But I Hate Me Too

Genre: Non-idol!AU

Pairing: Yixing x Reader

A/N: This is a bit off path from my regular kind of thing. I wanted to try something different. I was really inspired by the song Hate Me Too by Emily Burns. I feel like this fic is more “adult” (and no I don’t mean smut, that rule is still in place lol) than my others. I hope you like it!

I need you.

Laughter echoed around you as your friends went about their conversations, blissfully unaware of the turmoil boiling inside you. Should you stay? Should you go? Like there was even really a choice.

The last time this happened, you told yourself that you would be strong, that you would pretend that you never saw the stupid text and that you were having too much of a good time with people who cared about you to want to leave. But the pull was always nearly impossible to resist.

You hardly remembered what life was like before you met him. Did you actually make it through Friday nights having fun with your friends without constantly jumping each time your phone buzzed in your pocket? Were you able to go home without disappointment because you didn’t hear from him?

You yearned for those days that you couldn’t remember, like standing in front of an Ansel Adams photograph and longing to be walking along the lakeshore. You had no understanding of what that experience was actually like, but you ached for it anyway.

Often, you searched for a way to sever the cord that kept you tied to him. You searched for a cure, but there didn’t seem to be one. Not for when you were addicted to another human being.

“Hey!”

A napkin made contact with your face, finally pulling you away from the glowing screen of your phone. It took will power – more than you thought you had – but you managed to put your phone down, blacking out the screen so no one would accidentally see the text. You looked at your friend innocently. “Yeah?”

Your friends stared at you with genuine concern. It had been like a switch with you, going from actively being in the conversation to completely silent. This time with your friends, the drinks and dinner, was almost enough to make you completely forget about him. You were having fun again. How quickly the tides turned.

“You kind of spaced out there for a second,” one of your friends explained. She narrowed her eyes at you, tilting her head as if she were examining a confusing, abstract sculpture and a new perspective would give her some enlightenment. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Um, y-” Your phone buzzed, the lit up screen stealing your attention.

Please?

The shattering of your willpower echoed in your ears.

“No, actually, I think the seafood and wine combination was a bad idea,” you lied, already digging out your wallet. Taking out some cash, you put it down on the table and stood up. “I really think I should go home. I’m sorry. I don’t want to ruin your guys’ night.”

“No, no!” One of your other friends exclaimed. “Go home. We’ll be fine. Feel better, okay?”

Her concern was only making your guilt feel worse. Maybe the guilty churning of your stomach would become an actual illness. Then you’d have a true excuse not to go see him.

But as you waved goodbye to your friends and stood outside the restaurant, waiting for your ride to come, the guilt slowly dissolved away. In its place, that familiar buzz of excitement. He’d asked for you. He’d given you the same line he gave every time, this time adding a please. You were so easy.

The car pulled up only two minutes later and you slid into the back, resting your head against the window. Your eyes didn’t focus on anything – not the street lights or the storefronts or the couples along the sidewalk. Your mind, however, was focused on him.

Zhang Yixing was quite possibly the sweetest man you’d ever met. There was nothing special about your clandestine meeting. No meet-cute through spilled coffee or mixed up luggage. He was simply an acquaintance of one of your friends. His smile, though, was enough to draw you in. You could almost say that you had a crush since the very beginning.

The times he appeared to meet up with the group were infrequent and scattered. It didn’t matter, though, your heart still fluttered each time you saw him. And there were times that gave you hope that your feelings weren’t completely one-sided. The looks he would flash your way, the smiles, the light touches. You thought it was the beginning of something wonderful, the kind of love story you could tell your grandchild.

So how did it end up like this?

No, really. You didn’t know.

The first time something happened between you, the two of you had been drinking with the group. It was a blur how the two of you got back to your apartment, but you certainly remembered what happened after you walked through the door. Your high from the encounter, however, did not last long.

You woke up to find Yixing tying up his shoes at the end of your bed. Before you could say anything, he threw you a wink, a smile and left. The sun wasn’t even beginning to peek out yet and he was already gone. Things only spiraled down from there.

No matter how many times you racked your head against a wall, you couldn’t figure out how that one night turned into this constant game. He never sent you good morning texts or asked you how your day was. Weeks could go by with nothing but silence from his end. Then, with no warning or explanation, he would call or text, usually something along the lines of him needing you or that he was sad or lonely, asking you to come cure his ailment. You were so easy he didn’t need to put any effort into reeling you back in. All he had to do was poke at that tiny flame of hope that this might possibly one day become something a little more.

You had the driver stop at the end of the street. A weird habit you’d developed sometime near the beginning of all of this. For some reason, you liked the nuance of walking down the street to the faded blue door. You could take those extra steps to prepare yourself, to calm yourself down. It was better to face him as neutral as possible. You didn’t want him to see the small amount of excitement he brought you, how happy you were when he called for you.

God, you must be so pathetic to him. Like a puppy to its owner, you came running with your tail wagging.

Raising up your fist, you knocked softly against the blue door and waited. The paint was bleached out from the sun. It could use a new coat of paint. New spots where the top coat was chipping had appeared since your last visit.

About a minute the door swung open. Not a single syllable of “hello” was able to get out before you were being pulled into the darkness. Your shoulder blades stung from being shoved into the door, but that was only a minor thought in the back of your head as Yixing covered your lips with his. So soft, so sweet. As quickly and aggressive as he’d pulled you in, his touches were soft, like how you’d hold the person you loved.

If only he actually loved you.

It was three o’clock in the morning and yet you weren’t the least bit tired. Yixing was in the kitchen getting himself a glass of water as you shoved your foot into your boot. The two of you had had a short conversation about your lives lately (mostly prompted by you asking how he was), but it was seemingly over now. By the time you were standing up and slipping into your jacket, Yixing was waiting for you. He saw you to his door, that same intoxicating smile on his face. You never spent the night. That was one of the unspoken rules between the two of you. They were never written down or even verbally agreed upon; they simply were met.

You didn’t spend the night. He contacted you first. You didn’t tell your friends about him. You always came over to his place.

Most of them were for his convenience, but it wasn’t like you argued or pushed for anything that benefited you. The best thing would be to leave this. What a charming notion.

“Let me know that you got home safe,” he said softly. You never did, but he still said it every time. Acting like he cared was another one of his tricks that you fell for so easily.

Staring at him in the dim light from the street lamps outside - hindered mostly by the heavy curtains in front of the window – you wondered what would happen if you really did text him saying you’d made it back to your place without incident. Would he care? Would he send you a text back or tell you good night? Or would he ignore your message? Wouldn’t be the first time.

“Sure,” you lied. And like he always did, he placed a kiss upon your cheek before opening up the door to the waiting car outside. The place where his lips met your skin still stung, still vibrated from the contact.

“Good night,” he waved before shutting the door behind you.

You hardly looked at the driver as he took you home. You didn’t want to meet his eyes and feel the judgement rolling out of them. What else could be going on when a girl leaves a guy’s place so early in the morning, hair disheveled, guy shirtless, and a glassy look in her gaze?

Up the short porch steps you ran once you were back on solid ground. Your fingers shook as you struggled to find the right key to let you unlock the door. Inside the safety of your own walls where you could be alone, where you could breathe again.

The darkness engulfed you again once your feet hit the carpet of your living room. This time, there was no one waiting for you. There was no one here to embrace you. Only the empty feeling of loneliness was left to crush you.

Taking out your phone, you typed out “Made it safely”. Your eyes flickered to Yixing’s previous texts. You deleted your message and threw your phone across the room. It landed safely on the couch, the only good thing to happen to you tonight.

Under the heel of all your poor decisions, you crumbled to the floor. You’d managed to hold yourself together the whole way home, but now you let it all out, the sounds of your sobs your only company.

It’d been two weeks since you heard from Yixing. Surprisingly, you were doing fine. You hadn’t cried since that night. Once your tears dried up, you picked yourself up, stripped out of your clothes and fell asleep alone in your bed of cold sheets.

Now you were okay. You weren’t sure what happened that night, but something in you snapped. You didn’t constantly check your phone or think about him or fight with yourself on whether or not to contact him. Instead, you focused on work. You spent more time with your friends. You didn’t fake an illness or lock yourself up night after night in your apartment, coming up with excuses not to join anyone for dinner or a movie. You were living, like you were meant to be.

At the moment, you were wandering through a clothing store, stopping and looking at any piece that caught your eye. Your friend was complaining about her boss while she, too, shifted through the round rack of shirts.

“It’s just so annoying,” your friend grumbled as she picked up a shirt, held it against herself and then put it back, shaking her head. “Like, if you’re in charge, you shouldn’t say one thing is the standard policy and then go change your mind on every account. How are we supposed to accomplish anything that way?”

“Have you said anything about it?” you asked.

“No. Right now, venting about it is easier. But soon I’m go- hey, Yixing!”

You froze, a sheet of ice covering you almost instantaneously, seeping down into your veins. How could he be here? Why was he here?

“Hi!” His voice was cheerful, the exact opposite of how you were feeling.

Slowly, you turned around to face him. There was no smile on your face, especially after you caught his. It was the same polite, distant yet dimpled smile. The kind that was given to acquaintances, not someone you knew intimately. And he did know you, no matter how hard he tried to pretend otherwise. He knew every inch of your skin. He knew who you were when everything else was stripped away. The things you’d confessed to him, revealed to him before your nights together was over. That smile that kept up the wall was a betrayal you couldn’t even begin to verbalize.

“Hi, (y/n),” he greeted.

You waved halfheartedly. “Hey.”

Your friend sent you a curious look given your sudden change in demeanor, but she shrugged her curiosity away. “What are you up to, Yixing?”

“Just out buying a gift,” he said mysteriously.

“Ooo, for a girl,” your friend teased. An innocent enough joke. To you, though, it was just another twist in the knife.

“No, no,” Yixing laughed. “For my mom.”

You hated his laugh.

No, you didn’t. You loved it. The childlike way the giggles would vibrate in his throat, the way his nose scrunched and his smile grew to reveal the second, hidden dimple on his other cheek. It lit him up like the famous New York City New Year’s Eve ball that dropped at midnight. Truly, he might even shine brighter.

What you really hated was yourself. You hated how much you loved the details of him. The way he titled his head when he was listening intently. The strange way his face hardened and sharpened when he frowned or put tension in his forehead. As soon as he smiled again, everything softened, rounding out his features into that boy-next-door look that fit him so well.

You loved the expressions on his face when he was excited or surprised. His eyes would grow big and he’d look around in disbelief. When he cooked, he seemed so relaxed and concentrated at the same time. While his food wasn’t anything worth wild, you counted yourself lucky that you were able to experience a dinner or two made by him.

This boy could be playful, teasing in ways that weren’t cruel. Sometimes when you told a joke, it took him a minute or two before he would get it. The gradual transition in his features as the answer dawned on him was one you could watch for an eternity.

“Oh, that’s so sweet,” your friend smiled.

“It’s her birthday soon,” Yixing said. He kept his attention on your friend as if you weren’t even there.

“I’m going to run to the restroom real quick.” You didn’t even wait to see if your friend caught your lame excuse to get out of there. You needed to leave. Thinking about him in that way… well, you didn’t want to have a breakdown in the middle of the t-shirt section. You didn’t give Yixing a second glance as you left the store.

It took you a few minutes to find the bathrooms. In this mall they were located down a somewhat eerie hallway, but for once you weren’t concerned about that factor. You just needed a place to hide out. As rude as it was, you took the biggest stall, locking the flimsy door and sliding down to the floor.

You couldn’t keep going on like this. This wasn’t fair to you. While he could freely go about his day without the slightest bit of harm, you were constantly hurting. Even though you could numb the pain, it always came back, burning you worse than before.

There was no other choice. You had to let him go. This hatred that resided in your heart, you were afraid it just might kill you.

Your friend was a little perturbed at your sudden disappearing act, but after a few apologies on your end and an excuse that everyone with a uterus could understand, she forgave you. The two of you caught dinner at one of the nearby restaurants that served generic “feel good” food, but it didn’t do much in the ways of comforting you.

In the back of your mind you were trying to decide how to break away from Yixing. Should you simply block his number? Go to his place and tell him face to face?

Turned out, you didn’t have to make that decision as he made it for you.

You were almost ready for bed. At this point, you were simply procrastinating the actually going to sleep part. Tucked into the corner of your couch with your legs folded under you, you scrolled through different social medias. Nothing of interest was happening so you locked the screen, finally ready to head to bed.

Then it happened.

The phone rang in your hand. You stared at the device as it vibrated that familiar pattern, the one that you’d set specifically for him. The sensation ran through your fingers, up your arm, and into your heart. In turn, the muscle swelled, being torn in two. Answer. Don’t answer. Answer. Don’t answer.

The call flipped over to voicemail. You let out the breath you’d been holding, leaning your head back on the couch. You did it. You actually made yourself not answer his call. But the internal celebration didn’t last long before he was calling again. He had never done that in the past – called you back to back – so your self-control was suddenly depleted.

Your thumb swiped on the green icon.

“Hello?”

A sigh of relief. “Hey.”

You didn’t reply.

“(y/n)?”

This time you did reply. “Yeah?”

“I’ve missed you.”

No. Don’t do that. Please, don’t say that.

“I realized that… when I saw you today. Can I see you again?”

Your throat swelled as you tried to keep your composure. Taking the phone away from your ear, you held it against your forehead. You concentrated on your breathing, keeping it even, keeping it silent. You couldn’t let him know that he was breaking you.

“I can’t.” You were surprised that you were able to find those words in your vocabulary when you put the phone back against your ear. You thought they didn’t exist when it came to him. It turned out, you really were getting stronger.

“Oh.” At least there was a small amount of disappointment in his voice. “Are you… with someone?”

“No,” you answered honestly. “I just can’t keep doing this.”

A few moments of silence on his end went by before he asked, “What do you mean?”

Taking a deep breath, you unfurled the words that had lingered too long inside. “I can’t keep waiting around for you to call. I can’t keep hoping that maybe someday you’ll see me more than just something to help you feel less lonely. Because I’m lonelier than ever. I can’t keep letting you break my heart. Soon I won’t have anything less. So, no, Yixing, I can’t come over. Not tonight, not tomorrow, not ever again. I’m sorry.”

“(y/n), wait-”

You hung up quickly, before he could honey up the words it would take to pull you back in. With shaking hands, you went through the motions it would take to block his number. He was out of your life for good now.

So, why didn’t you feel relieved?

It’d been nearly a month since you said goodbye to Yixing. There were still nights where silent tears would roll down your cheeks. There were still times you would check your phone for missed calls or unread text messages, forgetting that you’d block any communication he could have with you. You were still weak, but as time went on, you found that picking up the pieces of your broken heart was becoming easier. The shards didn’t leave behind as many cuts on your fingers. Soon, you might be whole again, healed.

Your friends had noticed a change in you, too. You were happier, they said. When they asked what changed, you simply shrugged and shook your head. “It just happened, I guess.”

Tonight, you could really say that you were happy.

You were looking forward to a night out, hopping from bar to bar with your friends in tow. As you got ready, you found yourself smiling. There were no worries as to who you might run into or what excuse you might need to make a quick getaway. The rideshare app on your phone was only to be used to get you from different establishments, not anyone’s residence but your own. The blue door no longer haunted your dreams. You weren’t completely okay. You weren’t completely over it. That would take time. But you were hating yourself a little less. You were stronger than you thought. And that was worth smiling about.

A majority of your friends were already at the bar, given the amount of “Where are you?!” texts you’d received. You were quietly laughing at the group chat as you walked inside. They were all together and yet they still insisted on texting you separately. Following their directions, you made your way to the back of the bar where they said they were seated. But it wasn’t just your friends waiting for you.

Yixing was standing beside your mutual friend who was seated at the table. He seemed fine, engaging in conversation as if he wasn’t affected by your absence at all. Just like normal.

So focused on him, you didn’t see the poor waiter coming towards you with a tray of empty glasses until it was too late. The glass toppled down to the floor, the shattering sounds catching everyone’s attention.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” Immediately, you bent down to help the waiter with the mess you’d made. He tried to tell you that it was alright and that you didn’t need to help, but you didn’t listen.

A third pair of familiar hands came into view.

Knowing that it was the wrong thing to do, you looked up anyway. When your eyes met Yixing’s, a half smile grew on his face. Your heart was thumping hard in your chest, so much so that it was nearly painful. Each breath became shallower and your world started to tilt back and forth. Quickly, straightening up, you ran for the door, barely missing other patrons and waiters on the way out.

“(y/n), wait!”

You’d scarcely hit the pavement of the sidewalk when a hand caught yours, dragging you over to a more secluded area. As soon as he stopped, you yanked your hand out Yixing’s. The last thing you needed was take that contact and turn into something more.

“Please, just talk to me,” he begged.

“No,” you shook your head viciously. “We already talked. I told you. I can’t do this anymore.” You tried to walk away, but he jumped in front of you, blocking your path.

“I don’t want to do that anymore either.”

You stood there for a second or two, trying to decipher what he could possibly mean. “I don’t understand.”

He reached out and took your hand in his. “When I said I missed you, I meant it. I promise, I’ll do better this time around.”

“Do better?” you scoffed, pulling your hand back once again. He tried to hold on, but you were able to break his grip. “How do you plan on that? Making it a once a week thing instead of every once in a while? No, thank you. I meant it when I said I can’t do this anymore. I hate you. But what’s worse is how much I hated myself. How much I still hate me even when I thought I was getting over it. Because just when I thought I was getting over you, this happens. And I’m right back in that place. All I want is to tell you yes. But that’s not fair to me.”

Yixing blinked, letting your words sink in as his eyes slowly fell to the ground off to the side. “Please, don’t hate me. I care about you. I didn’t mean to do that to you.”

“It doesn’t matter, because you did it anyway.”

“Please, give me another chance. I want to be with you.” He stepped closer to you, meeting your eyes. He brought his hand up to your cheek, the pad of his thumb brushing against your skin in a way that made you lean into his touch. You thought of all those times he looked at you like you were something special, worth something to him.

But that was a dangerous road that led you here in the first place.

You wrapped your fingers around Yixing’s hand and gently pushed it away. “I need to think about it.” You still couldn’t tell him no. So, this was a compromise with yourself.

He seemed to accept that answer, nodding. “When you make up your mind… even if it’s to tell me to go to hell…you know where I’ll be.”

You nodded back. Then, before you completely broke down, you walked away.

For what seemed like hours you wandered around the streets, careful stay in the more populated, well lit areas while you tried to work through your own thoughts.

Did he really mean what he said? Did he really want to be with you?

He seemed sincere. Almost as broken as you were.

Back and forth the scales went, weighing the good against the bad. The heaviest consequence was your heart. The tape holding the pieces together was already beginning to peel away. You weren’t sure how much longer it would hold now that you’d seen him again. This promise being dangled in front of you… it was too good to be true. But you weren’t walking away like you should have. That would be the smart thing to do. The right thing. Each time you closed your eyes, however, you say the desperation in his face. In your ears, his pleas played over and over again.

Your feet made the decision for you.

At the end of his street, you debated. Your feet had brought you here without you realizing it so did that mean this was what your heart wanted? Were you willing to give it away completely? The chances of the same pattern beginning again were high, astronomically so.

You took a step. And then another. Again. And again. You didn’t even try to stop until you were outside his door. That blue door that used to mock you with its depressing color was now welcoming you with open arms. Your fist raised in the air, you knocked on the door, waiting patiently. The quick footsteps on the other side matched the rhythm of your heart, reigniting the hope inside.

“(y/n).”

#exo #zhang yixing #lay #yixing x reader #lay x reader #exo images #exo scenarios #exo one shot #angst #emily burns #Hate Me Too #I Hate You But I Hate Me Too

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write-a-bad-romance · 4 years

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Jeanpoleon fic- Hope is a Dish too Soon Finished

It had been well past midnight when Yukari finally left Mozart’s music room. The man had kept her after dinner, saying ‘the quill would only feel inspired enough to move if Yukari was around’ or 'no notes would come to him if Yukari didn’t call upon them".

She chuckled fondly every time she recalled Mozart speaking those exact words without so much as an exaggeration in his voice.

But Yukari had full trust in the residents, now that she’s become a member of their eccentric clan. Even Arthur was at least respectful to leave her alone (maybe it was because of Mozart’s protection, but who knew).

Yukari tried her best to distract herself from the unsettling surroundings. Failing to shake off her trepidation, she broke into a small run.

Of course, sprinting while closing your eyes was never a good idea, and it didn’t take long before she was knocked back by a sturdier body, one that she didn’t notice was advancing towards her in the darkness. “Ow, ow,” she stumbled back before focusing her sight on the other person. “I’m sorry! Are you hurt?”

“Eeep!” Where’s Mozart? Where is he when you need him the most?!

Yukari cautiously watched the strange creature before her, which seemed to be coming to its senses.

“Oh,” a deep voice reverberated. “It’s you, Mademoiselle.”

It was a voice Yukari knew so well. “Jean? I’m so sorry! Are you hurt?” She fussed, despite knowing that nothing could injure the stout former soldier.

But Jean just blinked vacantly at her, and without a word, gently shoved her to the side. The man went his way, visibly staggering despite going in a straight line.

Yukari stared at the ghost’s back as it disappeared into obscurity.

“And just like that, he glided out of sight! He looked, well, he looked dead! I mean, I know he’s undead, but—”

Yukari had to pause when Napoleon interrupted her with a loud snort.

Sebastian regarded him with an uncharacteristically stern look. “With all due respect, Monsieur Napoleon, this is an especially concerning matter.”

The addressed man held down his laughter immediately. “Forgive me,” he changed into a grave expression. “But, Sebastian, you know how he likes to go down the cellars for some Rouge. At least we know he’s not starving himself this time.”

“Although, to be completely honest,” he added. “I’d been momentarily afraid that he’d attack and bite Yukari out of thirst, but I’m glad he didn’t. In any case, I apologize on his behalf.” He bowed his head slightly towards her.

“No! No!” Yukari interjected, “It was also my fault for not looking where I was heading! But, the point is, I was concerned because he seemed really out of it. I thought the way he moved was sluggish. At least, he seemed very different from the Jean that likes to join Mozart and me, or the Jean I see in the stables with you, Napoleon. I don’t know, can vampires get sick?”

Sebastian nodded. “Correct. Even lesser vampires can experience physical ailment from time to time. And indeed, Monsieur Jean, in my observation, is likely in….less than ideal health.”

He moved towards the shelf to align some Blanc decanters. “It’s as Monsieur Napoleon says, his intake of Rouge and Blanc has so far been stable. But lately, I’ve been retrieving his meal trays to find most of them left uneaten."

He looked towards Yukari with a smile. "It was disheartening, considering his appetite had gotten better since you began helping out in the kitchen.”

“Eheheheh, not really! I only repeat what you’ve taught me, Sebastian!” She chuckled as a blush spread across her cheeks. “I mean, I do admit I’m a bit proud of myself for mastering French cuisine one dish at a time. But, I don’t think I can hold a candle to Napoleon here.”

“You flatter me, Yukari.” The emperor smirked. “Unfortunately, he rarely ever leaves his tower, much less come down to the kitchen when I’m cooking."

"Still, it bothers me that he hasn’t been attending our sparring seasons lately,” Napoleon examined the knife he was holding in contemplation. “Yukari, has he been visiting Mozart lately?”

The girl shook her head. “No. Mozart seems bothered about it as much as you do.”

Sebastian chimed in, “Now that you mentioned it, this morning Herr Mozart himself asked me whether I’d seen Monsieur Jean lately. As far as I know, Monsieur Jean only comes down to the stables to take his horse out into town.”

"Trying to manage his weapons shop without help from Mozart?” Napoleon asked humorlessly. “I can’t let this continue."

He strode towards the kitchen door. "Sebastian, come help me in the library after finishing your work. Yukari, do you mind if I borrow him later?”

“Oh, no! He’s all yours!” Yukari eyed Sebastian, who was grinning discreetly. “Are you planning on doing something?”

“I am.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “Just you wait.”

Ages ago, Jean would have wandered the brightly lit halls early in the evening, spooking everybody he reached out to like a man in a desert aching for water.

Right now, however, the pitch darkness made it easier for his nightly strolls to the cellar, where he’d empty vials of Rouge before returning to his cot. Without anybody finding out.

But he did bump into Mozart’s lover, whom he startled as much as she did him. This time, he’d have to proceed more carefully, or he’d run to others like Sebastian —or even worse, Leonardo.

He’d caught wind of Isaac barging into the kitchen and drinking every single bottle of Rouge on the shelf. Not only was Jean trying to avoid needless company, but he also wanted to prevent awkward encounters the morning after.

His frame cast shadows on the wine-colored carpeting, which now looked blue under the moonlight.

Within this condemned body is a ghost longing to be erased from this undesiring world.

So lost was Jean in thought that he wasn’t aware of a hand that gently pushed against his chest to stop him.

Napoleon smiled upon gazing into the (sadly devoid) eye of his quarry.

“Caught you,” he spoke softly. “Come with me. This is what you get for missing our training sessions.”

Wordlessly and without a fight, Jean allowed the former emperor to pull him by his wrist.

So thin. Napoleon contemplated. My judgment was correct.

Jean followed Napoleon into the warmly illuminated kitchen, where a rich, meaty scent greeted him upon entering. He spotted an earthenware pot sitting on the stove.

“Come over here, Jean,” Napoleon had already pulled a chair at the table where he and Isaac (and sometimes Sebastian and Yukari) gathered every time he made a dish.

Jean only looked at the table, then back at Napoleon’s face.

The emperor laughed, his voice akin to the ringing of bells in the otherwise silent kitchen. “Why look at me like that? Come on, let’s get you to your seat.”

Jean quietly watched the back of Napoleon’s white shirt as he moved about by the stove, scooping and pouring its content into a smaller bowl.

Why is he doing this?

Why…for me?

Napoleon turned, carrying the bowl and placing it on the table. He pushed it closer towards Jean until the steam rose in front of his face.

Jean inspected the surface of the soup. He could make out carrots, cabbages, potatoes, chunks of turnip, and what seemed to be pork.

The scent was a familiar one.

Seeing that Jean still didn’t move to pick up the spoon that he had set, Napoleon called him out. “What’s wrong?”

Jean averted his eye from the dish and looked down at his lap instead. “Where’s yours?”

“Huh?”

“Shouldn’t you have some yourself before offering them to me?"

Napoleon waved away the question with a smirk. "Oh, this is an experiment I’ve always wanted to try. I won’t feel confident unless you test it for me.”

Why me? “This is Potée Lorraine.”

Napoleon nodded (somewhat too enthusiastically to Jean’s liking), “It is. What about it?”

“It should be… never mind.” Jean wanted to say: It should be a simple recipe. A man as capable of you can’t possibly spoil it even if you try.

But Jean knew better than to dishearten a friend over a bad mood. His body might have been yearning for blood, but his senses were now urging him to indulge him something else.

For once, he didn’t object to the idea of satisfying his (real and very human) hunger.

Eventually, Jean blew at the spoon and gave himself a taste. The broth slid easily down his throat.

Napoleon watched him intently as Jean closed his eyes, seemingly trying to decipher what he’d just eaten. “Don’t stop, Jean. I still have enough for both of us. And more.”

Obediently, the soldier went for another scoop. And then another, and another. With every gulp, Napoleon could see the color returning to his moon-pale skin.

In the middle of working through his soup, however, Jean lifted his face with a fully open eye.

"What is this?”

After uttering the short (but significant, at least to Napoleon’s ears) question, Jean resumed devouring the entire soup.

Noticing the quiet hum of life returning to Jean’s body, the former emperor leaned back in contentment.

Ah, this is why I cook for others.

It was always an encouraging sight, seeing Isaac gasp in awe at a Dijon chicken sandwich after a full day of overworking his brain. There was Sebastian’s appreciation as a piece of a cara-age cured his homesickness.

Yukari, too, always complimented his macarons, but it was the sight of her delightfully nibbling away at the sweets that rewarded him more. He couldn’t even stop himself from smiling too when Dazai remarked fondly on his successful recreation of tofu miso.

But this? This was another scene entirely.

Napoleon wasn’t just discovering another side of Jean he’d always been longing to see, he was also expelling the toxicity that plagued the beautiful soldier from head to toe. Gone was the sullen and thirst in his eyes, replaced by a spark that got brighter and brighter every time Jean took another bite of the hearty meal.

The man could picture ghost-like smog pouring out of every part in Jean’s body, eventually dissipating into the air. The humble Potée Lorraine didn’t just serve to neutralize poison, but it also exorcised Jean’s demons.

At least for now.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Napoleon finally saw Jean sweating and taking in deep breaths, as he always did every time they finished sparring.

“It was good,” Jean spoke, his head still tilted towards the ceiling. “Hit the spot, you might say.”

Napoleon chuckled and pulled up a chair right next to Jean. “My hypothesis was correct,” he dabbed Jean’s moist forehead with a napkin. “You really were starving, but not for blood.”

Jean peered at him through a half-lidded eye. The light that the Potée Lorraine restored was swimming in it. “What do you mean?”

The emperor lifted the eyepatched soldier’s wrist and showed it to him. “If you only needed blood for nourishment, your wrist shouldn’t stay this small after drinking all that Rouge. What’s more,” He continued, still not dropping Jean’s wrist. “The unusual paleness of your skin, your sunken eyes, and lack of enthusiasm for daily activities clued me in on your condition.”

Napoleon finally settled the hand on Jean’s lap. “As the Chinese saying goes, food is medicine. It can’t cure your entire body in a short time, but it should lighten your heart enough to make you want to feel better.”

“It’s not much, offering you comfort food. I don’t even know what your favorite food is. But Potée Lorraine was a popular dish in my time, and then I discovered that it had been around during your period too.” He then smiled apologetically, “Forgive me if I didn’t get the recipe correctly, though. You were born in Lorraine, so of course, you’d be more familiar with the original recipe.”

“No,” Jean shot back with a surprising amount of passion in his voice. “It was better. Much better than the elaborate dishes le Comte wants us to eat.”

Napoleon couldn’t quite comprehend what le Comte had to do with this. “Come again? ”

Jean sighed, his previously serene visage changing into a regretful one. “I don’t mean to undermine both Yukari and Sebastian’s work. They did well, producing wonderful dishes that everybody enjoys.”

“But?”

“But my body can no longer take it,” Jean toyed with the edges of his cape. “I… My body rejected them. I felt repulsed at ingesting such luxurious food that I didn’t deserve. I tried staving off my additional starvation with more Blanc, but it hasn’t gone too well.”

“In the end, I had no choice but to consume Rouge. With Yukari in the mansion, I can’t risk attacking and drinking blood directly from a human. It was either forcing myself to drink that wretched thing or cause trouble.”

Jean took a swig of the clear water that was offered to him by Napoleon. After wiping his mouth, he resumed. “Yet, no matter how much I drink every night , my hunger persists. I’ve been feeling immense guilt at the thought of Sebastian worrying over a depleting Rouge supply.”

“But your simple dish,” Jean lifted the bowl close to his face to inhale the lingering aroma. “Somehow melted away this stubborn craving of mine. As expected of our Napoleon.”

The red that tinted Jean’s cheeks as he spoke the words made Napoleon unknowingly blush too.

“W-well,” Napoleon’s embarrassment was still palpable. “There’s more to your reluctance to eat extravagant dishes. I’ve been checking the menu, and it seems your body has been rejecting all that oil and fat. However,”

He put a hand on Jean’s shoulder and gripped it. “Even you deserve to nourish yourself once in a while. I can talk at length about the finer points of French food, but we can all agree on one thing: whether it’s a peasant dish or haute cuisine, good food is still good food.”

“It seems that the stew hit more than just your taste buds,” His finger jabbed at Jean’s heart. “It probably went straight to your homesickness too. I learned that this dish originated from Lorraine, where Domrémy is—’

Napoleon felt Jean’s cold fingers enveloping his.

"Please, no,” Jean whispered, tears starting to form in the corner of his dark eye. “Let’s not talk about Domrémy tonight.”

Napoleon could only abide the plea in Jean’s voice. He uncurled Jean’s fingers and noticed how easily they surrendered to being handled.

“In that case,” Napoleon walked back to the stove and retrieved the pot. “Let’s talk about something else while you help me finish this soup.” He then carried another bowl and spoon, along with another glass of water.

Jean gave him a look of genuine astonishment. “Are you not saving it for others in the morning?”

“Nah, I made it just enough for the two of us,” Napoleon sat back down. “I mean, assuming you’re up for some more.”

Jean seized the ladle with a determined expression, despite the flush under his eyes.

“Well, don’t mind if I do.”

Lots of love and thanks to Marine @weird-profiterole. I was alternating between wanting to write in onion soup and garbure, but she suggested Potée Lorraine instead .

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kristallioness · 4 years

Text

Primary care

Summary: Aang acts as a primary caregiver to Katara while she's suffering from the flu.

Word count: 10,168

Author's note: This one-shot idea came from a scene in the "My Family" series (season 2 episode 5). Susan, the mother in the family, was sick with the flu and she lay in bed when her husband Ben came home. He tricked her into thinking that he was gonna kiss her, but then he did something else that surprised her. So I thought how this would be really cute if Aang did the same to Katara. Now it's 10k+ words of Aang nursing Katara back to health. So.. much.. FLUFF!!! Here's an "official" illustration, too. Thanks goes to @thecaroliner for providing me with some ideas! There's a continuation from an old fic of mine inspired by @katarapy's post (yes, I'm tagging you so you'd definitely see this and know that you can read it any time you want). Also, I went to my very first health check this November and I was a bit anxious, but the doctor was really sweet and the way she talked to me helped me relax. She did something that made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside and, at the same time, soothed me. So, of course, I added a tidbit in the middle of a scene that I thought was already planned out here. It became cuter. Whoever guesses correctly gets a cookie from me. Plus, I translated some Estonian lyrics from a very beautiful song and wrote them into the dialogue. If any of you guys can figure out which sentence it is that Aang says to Katara, you've earned two cookies! *waiting with a tray of cookies*

----------x----------

Katara rolled onto her other side. She could hear someone coming up the stairs, faintly. To be honest, she wasn't sure whether she could rely on the precision of her ears right now. Given how heavy her entire noggin felt.

She opened her eyes and stared at the bedroom door as her husband returned from the kitchen. Aang had a mischievous smile on his face as he approached their bed.

"It'll be another 10 minutes before the soup's done."

Katara's stomach growled at the mere mention of food. She found it hard to keep anything down for the past day and a half. Sometimes she'd get sick from simply smelling something she couldn't stand thanks to her upset tummy.

"Mmm.. thanks," she mumbled, covering her mouth for a second to cough. Otherwise, she remained hidden under the blanket.

Aang began fluffing the pillows she was surrounded with while they waited for lunch. He and Yee-Li, one of the first members of the air acolytes, had been busy preparing a simple noodle soup just for her.

The airbender did most of the cooking, but the young nun was more than happy to help keep an eye on the boiling water and stir the ingredients while he went to check on his wife. She'd promised to bring the soup to their bedroom herself, even after Aang had insisted that it wasn't necessary.

Katara propped herself up on her elbows for a second so he could fluff the pillow under her head.

"I know what would make you feel better."

She quirked an eyebrow as she lay back down and her husband perched on the edge of the bed.

"Really? And what would that be?"

Aang nudged closer to her, running a hand over the corner of her mouth.

"How about a quick kiss?"

"Aang, no. You'll get sick, too."

As if to prove her point, another short coughing fit hit her. She turned her head the other way and held a hand in front of her mouth until it stopped tickling her throat.

"See what I mean?"

"Please? Just humor me," he begged.

Katara shrugged her shoulders, but played along. She closed her eyes and puckered her lips, slightly leaning forward to prepare herself for the kiss. She didn't expect a glass tube to intrude her mouth instead.

"It's okay!" Aang said when she clearly startled.

"I just wanted to take your temperature."

He caressed her cheek to calm her down. Katara stared at the thermometer between her lips, after which she giggled and sucked the tip further in so she could tuck it under her tongue.

"Well, that did cheer me up. Thank-sh!"

"You're welcome!"

He chuckled at the way she hissed her 'S'-s now. But he couldn't really blame her since she had that stick of glass protruding from her mouth.

Aang reached for the small piece of cloth on the nightstand. He dipped it into the bowl filled with cold water, then pressed the damp rag against her hot forehead. The cooling sensation helped ease her headache.

Katara shut her eyes and waited for the thermometer to do its work. She seemed so weak to him, ever since that fever broke out yesterday, along with the accompanying fatigue. Usually she was the one treating everyone else's ailments. But who'd be there to take care of the best healer in the world during her time of need?

She didn't even notice those five minutes go by when the airbender was already carefully pulling the thermometer out of her mouth to check the measurement. He barely got to fix where the silver line of mercury pointed to when she ducked over the edge of the bed and threw up into a wash basin.

Aang grabbed her loose hair so it wouldn't fall down in front of her mouth. Using a scrunchy to fasten most of it near the nape of her neck was a good call after the first time.

"There-there.. let it all out."

Those were leftovers from last night's dinner, which her stomach hadn't digested properly. He gently patted her back until she finished, or felt like there was nothing left to force back out. He rewarded her with a nice back rub instead while she remained dangling over the edge, waiting for more to come out.

Katara wiped at her mouth and climbed back up onto the bed, plopping down into the sea of pillows. Aang used some of the water from the bowl to waterbend the remnants of the vomit off the back of her hand. Then, he picked up a jug and poured some drinking water into a glass.

"Here, sweetie. Drink this."

While she was busy cleaning her mouth from the bitter taste, he managed to find out how high her fever was. 38.2 degrees, it was no wonder she felt so poorly. He didn't really notice how badly she was shivering until she'd sat up to drink.

"Are your chills getting worse?"

Katara raised one of her bare arms in front of his nose to show off her goosebumps.

"Uh-uh, I think so. My f-fever must be rising."

Great, stammering meant that it was about to get much worse for the next hour or two. Aang intended to stay by her side for as long as he could during this period. His fingertips rubbed the edge of their shared blanket.

"Isn't our blanket enough to keep you warm?"

"No. S-stupid thing's too thin.." she muttered under her breath and averted her gaze, annoyed that her body couldn't tell the difference between hot and cold.

The airbender scratched his beard for a few seconds before he flicked his fingers.

"I have an idea. How about if I helped keep you warm? Just until your fever starts coming down again."

Katara put her empty glass on the nightstand and gave him a slightly puzzled look.

"What do you have in mind?"

He stood up and pulled the blanket off the bed in one go, leaving her uncovered.

"Aang! Are you t-trying to make my fever worse!?" she exclaimed as she crossed her arms and pulled her knees up to her chest to keep warm somehow. Her anger dissipated when he wrapped his arms around her and the blanket fell down her back.

"No, I'm trying to make it more bearable for you."

Katara frowned and hung her head a bit while he made sure her shoulders, along with her sides, were covered. She grabbed the edges of the blanket to hold it tight around her upper body.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scream at you."

"Apology accepted."

Aang offered her a smile before he crawled onto the bed and sat down cross-legged right in front of her. He scooted closer and took a hold of her hands.

"Come here."

She inched forward until she got close enough for him to slip a hand under her thighs, the other one supporting her from her back. He helped her hop onto his lap, after which her body fell into place perfectly.

Her bottom fell into the empty space between his legs. She locked her legs around him, as if she was straddling him. At first, she wrapped her arms around his neck to embrace him. But when the blanket fell off, she instinctively snaked them around his chest instead. His red shawl fell down on her bare arms and he covered her bare feet with his long cape of the same colour.

"Oh, so this is what you had in mind," she remarked.

"Do you like it?"

Katara felt how he adjusted the blanket higher on her back and brought the edges over her shoulders again. Not only was she fully covered now, she was also being heated up by the warmth radiating from his body.

"Y-yes. Very much."

She nuzzled her nose into the crook of his neck and closed her eyes to take it all in. To take all the warmth in. But if she was taking it all in, she had to be giving something in return, right?

Shivers. Aang could feel her entire being tremble from every inch that touched his body. It was scary. He wished there was something he could do to make it stop. If only he had healing abilities like her...

That thought sparked another idea. He placed his hands on her back and began rubbing it in slow circles, similarly to how she'd do it with waterbending on a person's forehead to bring their fever down.

"Aang, c-cut it out," Katara interrupted him.

"What?"

"With the firebending. I'm afraid it'll make my f-fever worse."

"Oh, sorry!" he apologized and quickly took his hands off her back, as if he was close to breaking her spine or scared of hurting her if he held them there a second longer.

"Do you want me to cool you down with some airbending instead?" he offered, but he could sense her shake her head against his shoulder.

"No, just k-keep me warm."

"So, I should just.. hold you?"

"Yes. Hold me," she pleaded.

And he did. Aang hesitantly laid his hands on her back again to hold her close like she'd asked. He gently bumped his head against her own and let her be for a while.

Or he would've let her be if he hadn't heard a faint crackling noise behind his ears. That disturbing sound seemed eerily close by. It didn't take long for him to figure out the pattern he heard matched another one he could feel against his chest.

"Is.. is that your breathing?"

"Yeah-"

Katara couldn't even finish her answer before she had to cough and clear her throat of the phlegm. She glanced over her shoulder and spat it out into the basin, almost with the same accuracy as Toph would've done it.

"Do you want me to check if it's gotten worse?"

"No, not yet. Give me another 10 minutes.. P-please? This feels really nice."

She shuddered and hugged him tighter, her chin falling back on his shoulder. Aang chuckled and pulled her back into his embrace. She sensed how he planted a light kiss into her hair.

"Sure, anything you want."

Katara hummed at that. She enjoyed the silence and the feeling of his arms wrapped around her, keeping her safe. The only sound that accompanied them was her noisy breathing, and occasionally, her coughing.

Her breathing did sound terrible now that she was so close to him, chest to chest. More so that he was an airbender, and the way she was controlling her breathing didn't sound right to him.

Aang could tell she was burning up since she squeezed him harder once every minute or so. Besides that, her intense chills ran all over her body. He wasn't sure whether it was contagious or not, cause sometimes he couldn't distinguish her shivering from his own shaky movements.

"Don't be scared. I'm here. Doctor Aang will take good care of you, okay?"

His attempt at consoling her wasn't in vain. She mumbled something incoherent to him, then continued shivering. At least she'd heard what he'd said.

He wished there was a way for him to help her fight such a high fever. He settled for rubbing her back instead, without the firebending, to let her know that he's there and he could feel her suffering.

A couple of minutes later, the airbender looked over his shoulder when he heard someone coming upstairs and hurrying down the corridor. Yee-Li came to ask him if she should bring two bowls of soup, one for each of them. She slowed her pace and stopped behind the door, knocking three times against the wood before peeking inside.

"Avatar Aang, I'm sorry to disturb you-"

She was met with the sight of the airbender sitting in the middle of their bed, his wife cuddled in his arms and seemingly napping on his shoulder. Katara stirred a little after the disturbance, but her eyes remained closed. Yee-Li pointed a finger at the waterbender.

"Is she awake?" she whispered.

"Yeah, her fever's making her weary is all. Would you leave the soup on the stove for another 20 minutes or so and come back then? Katara wants to rest a little bit longer before she can eat."

"Of course! Take all the time you need. I'll be back in half an hour to check on you two, if that's okay."

"Yes, that suits us just fine. Thank you!"

The nun bowed to him before she left. Aang turned his attention back to Katara as she smacked her lips and wiped the drool from the corner of her mouth into his collar. She really had dozed off for a couple of minutes.

"C'mon, it's time for your midday healing session," he declared and tried to get her to sit up straight, but to no avail.

"Noooo.. I don't wanna.." she whined and curled up like a baby koalaotter. Aang attempted to untangle her hands from his sides, but for someone who was sick with the flu and drowsy, she had a pretty strong grip on him.

"You're so warm."

"Thanks, but flattering won't work. You told me not to fall for it."

She'd also told him that she wanted him to examine her condition thrice a day - in the morning, at noon and in the evenings. That way she could keep mental progress of her recovery and teach him how to act in case her condition got worse. It was no secret that she took full advantage of the pampering.

"Just 5 more minutes, please?"

She'd already stopped stammering, so that was a good sign. And her chills weren't as frequent anymore either.

"How about until we hear the next bison growl?"

Katara pondered for a second, then agreed to his terms. She nestled herself against him and shut her eyes, trying to make the most of it. Barely a minute passed before they both heard one.

"Darn it."

Her husband stifled his laughter while she unwillingly pushed herself off of him and stretched her arms, releasing a long yawn. Aang supported her from her back while she did, then adjusted the blanket back on her shoulders after that.

"Feel better?"

"Thanks. A little bit."

Katara shuddered for a second, but continued to freshen up. She waterbended some of the water from the bowl onto her palms, then splashed her face with it. She patted herself dry with the corner of their blanket. Aang cupped her cheek once she'd dried up.

"Look at me," he coaxed. She blinked and stared into his eyes while he did the same. His thumb gently grazed her cheekbone, pulling her lower eyelid down a bit.

"Are they still red?"

He inched closer to her face to check her other eye. She looked around the room so he could see the sclera from all sides, but it didn't matter where she looked. Aang nodded.

"Yeah, they are. Do they still ache, too?"

"Mhmm," she hummed and nodded in return. He caressed her cheek with gentle strokes a couple of times.

"At least you're still a sight for sore eyes."

He earned a giggle from her with that punny compliment.

"Aww, I'm flattered. And since you think so.."

Katara searched for one end of her white waistband and slowly unwrapped it from her middle. She put it aside on the bed, then grabbed the collar of her tunic and, with tiny wiggling movements, slipped it off her upper half.

Another shiver ran down her spine now that she was only wearing her sarashi. Her long, loose hair provided some warmth on her back until she quickly pulled the blanket back around herself.

"It's okay, I'm in no hurry," Aang assured her. He rubbed her arms while she took a couple of calming breaths and the sound of her teeth chattering quietened down.

"Brrr!"

Katara shook the last of her chills out of her system. She took a hold of either side of the blanket and put it in his palms.

"Cover me."

Aang held it up high enough to hide her near-naked form from the surroundings. This was the smallest and narrowest changing room she'd ever used.

She stripped to the waist by pulling the sarashi over her head, throwing it next to her waistband. Next, she took a hold of either side of her tunic, slipped her arms through and pulled it back on, leaving her chest slightly exposed. Just enough room for his fingers to dance around on.

Katara adjusted the edge of the blanket over her shoulders again, after which she untangled the fabric from his fingers. Once she had a firm grip on it, she laid her hands on his shoulders, forming a makeshift drape around herself.

"Okay, I'm ready."

Aang grinned at her before summoning a stream of water, which he used to lift her stethoscope off the nightstand and bring it to him.

There was a lot of basic doctor stuff he could do, and he could do it well. At least, that's how Katara thought of him as a physician. Among other things, he'd learned how to tie a sling around a broken arm and bandage up wounds, simply by observing her. Her teachings of modern medicine compensated for his lack of healing abilities.

She watched him put the earpieces into his ears and warm up the metal by blowing on it and rubbing it against his palm. He pressed the chestpiece below the collarbone on her right side to listen to her heart.

As if on cue, she coughed a moment later. Aang did his best to hide it, but the crackling inside of her made him grimace.

"How bad is it?" she whispered, a tad breathless.

"Sounds like you've just finished running a hundred laps around the island."

"That's pretty much how I feel, too."

He chuckled and moved the chestpiece to her left, hovering over the second listening point. Of all the things missing from her usual, cheerful self, at least she hadn't lost her sense of humor.

"Your heart is beating nicely."

He didn't see it, but the corners of her mouth curled into a smile. She found it comforting when he told her what he could hear in a hushed tone. She guessed it was another manner he'd picked up from all the times she'd been his doctor. Or, healer, to be exact.

Katara slouched a bit once he began listening from the middle of her chest. But the movement unintentionally made him worry that something's wrong, or that she might need to throw up again.

"Are you okay?" Aang wondered. She didn't look up and simply nodded.

"Yes. It's just, when I bend over a little, my heart falls closer to my ribcage and then you can hear it better."

"Oh.. I didn't know that."

She smiled at him as she laid a hand on his own, the one that was pressing the stethoscope against her chest.

"Well, now you do."

Mission accomplished, she'd managed to teach him something new. Katara withdrew her hand when he moved a bit southward, but she didn't break eye contact with him. Aang noticed her still smiling from the corner of his eye and he couldn't help but laugh.

"What? Why are you staring at me like that?"

"Nothing.. I'm just admiring how focused you look like. And, looking into your eyes helps me calm down."

"Are you sure it doesn't have the opposite effect?" he teased, leaving her with a slightly dumbfounded look on her face.

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, I can tell you it isn't working. Your heart's still beating pretty fast."

She pouted and huffed out a breath, which provoked another coughing fit. Aang rubbed her right side with his free hand while she turned around a bit to spit the phlegm out into the basin.

"Do you want something to drink?"

"No, no-no.." she said with a wave of her hand, then coughed once to clear her throat so she could speak normally.

"I'm fine. You can finish examining me."

Katara rested both her hands on his shoulders to pull the drape back up. He took her word for it and continued by brushing her tunic aside.

She didn't look, but she inhaled a tad sharply when she felt him press the chestpiece gently under her left breast. He'd gone through the pattern in the correct order according to her teachings, finishing with the M-point, where her heart murmured the softest rhythm into his ears. Hence the letter 'M'.

Katara averted her gaze to her bare chest while Aang looked at her face. She'd been really pale before she threw up earlier, but now the blush on her cheeks began to return. Whether she was aroused or it was just her fever showing, it was a good sign that she was feeling better at the moment.

"Do you want me to check your breathing, too?"

"Mhmm," she practically pleaded. Katara let him snake his hand against her left side and spread his fingers over her ribs. She took a couple of deep breaths so he could hear how her lung sounded, and waited until he repeated the same on her right side.

Aang grinned at her proudly while removing the earpieces from his ears.

"Good girl. You were a very obedient patient."

He tucked her chest in by pulling her tunic closer together, then leaned forward and rewarded her with a kiss on the forehead. She released a short giggle and booped his nose with her finger.

"And you make an excellent doctor, sweetie."

He sheepishly rubbed the back of his head and blushed a little.

"Thanks!"

"So did you hear any murmurs? Wheezing? Anything out of the ordi-"

Katara covered her mouth and looked away until she finished coughing again. Aang gave her some time to catch her breath.

"..ordinary?"

"No, not that I heard of. Unless you wanna check for yourself."

He offered the medical instrument to her, but she laid her hands over his own and slowly pushed them back.

"No, I believe you. After all, you have bigger ears than I do."

She pinched one of his ears as Aang blushed even more furiously at that comment.

"True, but I don't have the knowledge that you do."

The short fuzzy hair of his beard grazed her fingers as her hand skimmed over it and she began stroking his flushed cheek to comfort him. There was a sparkle that glinted in her otherwise tired eyes.

"You'll learn. You've been a good pupil so far."

"So, I still have hope for becoming a healer?"

Katara pursed her lips and stared at him from top to bottom.

"Mmm.. maybe not a healer, since you don't have healing abilities.. yet. But you have all the qualities of a good doctor. You're very caring.."

She rested a hand above his heart, her fingers scratching over the red fabric of his shawl.

"You have gentle hands. You don't rush your patient, and you helped her feel cosy and relaxed during the exam."

His smile grew with each compliment, just as his pride swelled in his chest.

"Aww, shucks.. Thank you, sifu healer!"

"But there's one more thing a good doctor does before his visit ends."

The airbender quirked an eyebrow.

"And what's that?"

"He prescribes medicine, or a specific kind of treatment to help the patient get better."

Katara glanced behind her shoulder and nodded towards the bottle of cough syrup on their nightstand. Aang picked up on her hint. He dropped the stethoscope on the mattress and bended a stream of water to lift up the bottle, along with a spoon next to it.

"Let's see if we can cure that nasty cough of yours."

He uncorked it and poured some of that special golden, honey-tasted syrup onto the spoon. He hesitated for a second and decided to have a tiny taste with the tip of his tongue.

"Aang, that's not meant for you!"

"Sorry, I can't help it! It tastes so sweet.. Okay, I promise, this next one's for you."

He poured some more to fill the entire spoonful this time.

"Open wide.."

She obeyed and let him feed it to her, swallowing the medicine with a loud gulp once he'd pulled the spoon out of her mouth.

"Good girl," Aang praised by running his free hand through her hair. She chuckled and laid her hand on his own, bringing it onto her warm cheek. She shut her weary eyes and let him stroke her for a minute, a content hum escaping her vocal cords.

That's when they heard someone coming up the stairs. Katara swiftly pulled one edge of the blanket over the other to cover her chest and make herself more decent. She smiled when she saw Yee-Li appear from the hallway.

"I hope I didn't come too early, but it's been almost half an hour.."

The air acolyte was carrying a tray of food in her hands, approaching them slowly in order not to spill anything. Her face lit up once she lifted her gaze from the tray to the merry couple in bed.

"Oh, Katara! It's good to see you up and about."

"I don't know about that.. I still feel pretty weak."

She released another wet cough, as if to demonstrate how sick she was. Aang held onto her shoulders while she bent over the edge of the bed and spat the phlegm out. Yee-Li knitted her brows in concern.

"I see your point. It's a good thing your husband helped me prepare this hot soup for you to help clear your airways. Where do you want me to put it?"

"Just put it on the vanity over there. We'll start eating in a minute," Aang said, pointing to the empty table with one hand while he rubbed Katara's back with the other.

"Sure! Do you need me to bring you guys anything else?" Yee-Li wondered as she dropped the tray off. The airbender had a quick look around, noting the food and water on the table, his wife's medical instruments and drugs scattered around them.

"Nah, I think we're good for now. Thanks for all the help!"

"You're welcome, Avatar Aang!" she said with a bow to him. Before leaving, she stepped over to his wife and tenderly stroked her head.

"Feel better soon, Katara!"

The waterbender giggled, but had to cover her mouth with the blanket when she started coughing again. She offered the young nun a grateful smile once she'd caught her breath.

"Thank you!"

After Yee-Li had given them some privacy, the two untangled their legs so they could move freely. Aang hopped up from the bed to go have a look at lunch.

Yee-Li had brought them two separate bowls filled with noodle soup, as well as two spoons and cups of tea. There was a single banana next to the tea. He sniffed either cup and could tell which one belonged to Katara. Everything on the tray smelled delicious.

"Okay, let's get you more comfortable," he declared as he stepped behind her. He piled a couple of pillows against the headboard, then helped her scoot backwards and lie down against the heap.

Katara watched how he fetched her ginger tea. She sat up a bit before he handed her the cup.

"Thanks!"

While she breathed on the steamy liquid and took the first couple of sips, the airbender had also grabbed her bowl and dropped the spoon inside. He perched on the edge of the bed and shifted closer to her.

"Aren't you gonna eat yours?"

"No, I wanna get some of this soup into you first. Your tummy must be really empty after, err.. spewing up last night's dinner."

Katara laid her free hand above her stomach as it growled. She agreed with a nod, then allowed him to feed her. Aang stopped and lifted the spoon straight up before he could.

"One more thing. As your doctor, I'd like you to show me your throat before you can have some soup."

She playfully rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue, blowing a short raspberry to that. Her husband laughed.

"Good one, sweetie. But that's just your tongue. Open wide!"

This time, she did as he asked and let him press her tongue down a bit with the spoon.

"Is it sore?" Aang wondered in a more concerned tone, withdrawing the makeshift tongue depressor from her mouth. She shook her head.

"Nope. I would've been begging for tea a long time ago if it was."

Katara was telling the truth. Besides the fact that it didn't look red, she couldn't have sat still for so long if she had a sore throat. If she did and she was too weak to move about, she would've asked him to boil more tea. During her worst days, she could gobble down more than 20 mugs of tea in a day. 20.. whole.. mugs...

But Aang was satisfied with her answer, hence he finally began catering to her nutritional needs. He breathed on each spoonful to cool down the broth before feeding it to her, so she wouldn't burn the inside of her mouth.

"By the way, how high was my fever?" she asked while he was busy lifting more noodles onto the spoon.

"38.2, but that was before you threw up and started to have chills. We can measure it again, if you want."

Katara chewed on the noodles a little bit and swallowed before answering.

"Yeah, I do."

She placed her small tea cup on the corner of the nightstand and he laid the half-empty soup bowl next to it. Having pushed the covers off and brushing her tunic off her right side, she raised her arm a little. She gave him a sly smile, her eyes half-lidded as she watched him tuck the thermometer under there.

Aang pulled her tunic back on her bare chest and wrapped the blanket around her for extra warmth. He did feel sorry for having to stop her subtle flirting, but her well-being came first.

"Cover up, sweetie. Don't want you catching pneumonia."

Katara let out a short giggle as he tucked her in, after which she let him feed her the rest of the soup while they waited. She reached out her hands when the bowl was practically empty.

"Gimme."

Aang obliged, watching while she pressed her lips against the round edge and slurped all of the remaining broth down. She wiped at her mouth and belched.

"Sounds like someone's full. At least I won't have to hear the sounds coming from your empty stomach for a while."

"What do you mean?" Katara asked as she handed the bowl to him and he put it aside.

"I could hear your tummy rumbling when I listened to your heart from here."

He pressed his index and middle finger on the lower half of her chest, right in the middle between her breasts. That made sense, he'd been close enough to hear what was going on in her stomach.

"It was practically begging for food. You really had me worried."

Her brows furrowed similarly to his as she let him rub small circles above her belly. She rested a hand on his own and joined in.

"I just hope I can keep the soup down long enough to digest most of it."

Her husband leaned over towards the tray to grab the banana. He offered it to her, but she crinkled her nose and shoved his hand away.

"No, please. I don't think I can stomach anything sweet right now, other than cough syrup."

"Okay, but let me know if there's anything else you'd like for dessert."

"No, not right now."

She licked her lips as she watched him take a bite out of the yellow fruit. If her stomach wasn't acting up, she would've gobbled it down in one go. She offered him an apologetic smile.

"But.. thanks, sweetie. I appreciate the offer."

Aang grazed her flushed cheek with the back of his free hand while he began eating his own lunch. Once he was done with the banana, he grabbed his bowl of noodle soup and slurped the still lukewarm broth.

Katara used the opportunity to check the measurement herself. After about five minutes had passed, she pulled the thermometer out from under her arm. The silvery line reflected back when she slowly tilted it in her hands.

"Well?"

"38.0."

"Not much of a change there," the airbender claimed with a shrug of his shoulders.

She swung the thermometer in the air a couple of times to get the measurement back to a normal 36.6 degrees, so they could use it again the next time. She wasn't too happy with that result.

"I could've sworn it went down a lot more than that."

Aang pressed a hand against her clammy forehead to check.

"Katara, you have the flu, not a cold."

She narrowed her eyes.

"Oh? And since when do you know the difference between a flu and a cold?"

"You told me yourself: 'High fever equals flu, low brings a cold to you.'"

Her expression melted into a proud smile. She tickled his chin with her finger for remembering the clever rhyme she'd made up.

"Like I said, you've learned well."

The airbender looked away shyly, his grey eyes fixing on the remaining broth in his bowl. He slurped the liquid down in her manner and then gathered the dirty dishes back onto the tray.

He also grabbed the stethoscope from the mattress and took the thermometer from his wife's hand, placing her medical instruments on the nightstand to clean up their surroundings a little bit.

Katara had curled up in the meantime. She wriggled her toes, the only part of her feet that stuck out from the blanket. She didn't flinch, but she blinked and looked up when her husband laid a hand on her temple once more. He smiled at her lovingly.

"Hey.. do you wanna go take a shower? You haven't changed clothes today. It'll help you feel a little better. That is, if you feel up for it."

She shut her weary eyes and nodded into his palm.

"Mmm.. A shower does sound nice."

Aang gave her another peck on her forehead, then squatted down in front of their vanity and opened the drawer containing her clothes. He picked out a light blue tunic with the same pattern as her current one, along with a clean pair of undergarments and a sarashi.

Katara had already managed to get herself up and sitting while he arranged her changing clothes next to her on the mattress. He offered her a hand, but she refused.

"Thanks, sweetie, but I can walk by myself."

That's what she claimed, but her actions spoke louder than words. She groaned the moment she had to push her achy body up on her feet, and she nearly collapsed after her first step. Aang quickly snaked an arm around her and held onto her hand to offer some support.

"Oh, I guess not."

"You're too weak. Please, let me carry you to the shower. It's the least I could do."

Katara thought for a second longer, then gave in before her muscles could. He scooped her up in his arms bridal style and started walking towards the bathroom.

She instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck to steady his balance, but it didn't help much since they fell right back down in her lap.

"You must be really tired."

"What makes you say that?"

"You don't even have the strength to hold onto me."

She let out a quiet chuckle, which turned into a cough. Her heavy noggin fell against his chest and she closed her eyes to enjoy the ride. He'd left out the comment about her slight wheezing after the mild exercise of getting up from bed.

Once they reached the shower, Aang carefully lowered her bare feet to the ground. As she stood up, his hands remained on her sides, slightly tickling her while she attempted to move closer to the stall.

He wasn't fully aware of it, but Katara was a master at holding all of the discomfort in. Every single movement was making her body scream for her to stop and just go back under the blanket. Without his presence, she would've called it quits halfway down the corridor and plopped straight back into their bed. But right now, he was her pillar of strength, literally.

She turned the tap and found enough strength to stand on her own while he slipped her sweaty tunic off her shoulders. She pulled her undergarments off and threw them in the basket of dirty clothes.

She startled a little when her husband stood behind her and slid his hands up along her sides, all while the water was already running.

"Aang, what are you doing? You're gonna get wet."

"I think you forgot that I'm a waterbender, too."

He handed her a bar of soap, orange and peach-scented, after which his hand landed back underneath her armpit to support her. Katara began untangling his fingers one by one from her other side.

"I can wash myself," she protested.

"But you can't stand for yourself. Now it's my turn to beg. Please, Katara, let me hold you."

She ceased plucking his fingers off her ribs, seeing that he planted them right back onto their original gaps. She heaved a sigh in defeat.

"Alright."

Aang smiled, gratefully. He found the courage to take another step closer to her, even though his arms were now getting soaked with the running water. He didn't care. All he cared about was taking care of her.

And to be honest, Katara also felt grateful that he didn't leave her side. She loved the way his hands skidded along her skin as she bended forward to splash her legs with the water. It tickled when she stood back up and his fingertips softly squished into the slight fat on her belly.

He gave her more room when she squatted down a bit to wash her intimate area. While she was busy rubbing the soap under her arms, Aang combed his fingers through her wet hair and down her back. She gave him a sideways glance, along with a smile. He considered it as a silent 'thank you'.

Katara didn't take too long to finish. She didn't want her flu to get worse, hence she had no intention of staying under the water any longer than she needed to.

The airbender left her standing on her own for a couple of seconds while he fetched her towel from the peg. She used the opportunity to wring the majority of the water out of her hair, and waterbend herself drier.

The sudden lack of warmth that came from the running water made her shiver. Until her husband approached her from behind and wrapped her into the fuzzy indigo towel.

"Here you go," Aang murmured as he tucked one side over the other on her chest.

"Thanks."

Katara grabbed his hand and lifted it up to her mouth, leaving a tender kiss on the light blue arrow on the back. After he'd waterbended the soapy water out of his own robes, she let him escort her back to their bedroom.

"Let's get you back into bed. Doctor's orders."

He wasn't sure whether it was her giggling, or a wave of chills that ran down her spine and made her tremble as they walked down the hallway side by side. She could've sworn his hands barely left her sides the entire time she was up on her feet.

It wasn't until they made it to the bedside that he gave her some space to dry up. Having rubbed her back, Katara let the towel fall down, using one half to pat her chest and tummy. Aang took a hold of the other half and softly stroked her back with it, as well as her backside, just in case she missed a spot.

He hung the damp towel on the corner of the bed and watched as she started dressing up in her changing clothes. He inched closer once she was wearing her underwear, and carefully pulled the rest of her loose hair out from the binding straps of her sarashi.

Katara puffed her hair and stretched her arms as she saw him grab her clean tunic from the mattress. She let him slip her hands through the sleeves, tucking it together on the front, and waited for him to tie a white waistband around her middle.

"How are you feeling?" Aang wondered. She hummed in thought, letting him finish the knot on the small of her back to keep the tunic together.

"Refreshed, not so sweaty.. but still pretty tired."

Her answer made him chuckle.

"Then the shower was a good idea," he stated proudly.

Like an exemplary gentleman, he lifted the blanket and helped his wife climb into their bed. Once Katara had settled down, Aang reached for another drawer in their vanity.

"Do you want some peace and quiet after such a tiresome morning, or are you up for playing some cards?"

He pulled out a maroon deck of cards and began shuffling them, a sly smile decorating his lips.

"Because, I'm not sure whether boredom is a fatal illness.."

Katara snorted as she began laughing a little, but she had to cover her mouth once her giggles were replaced with coughs.

"N-no-oh.. it definitely isn't fatal."

The airbender dealt five cards for both of them.

"What was the score again? Four to two, your advantage?"

Katara had felt really awful last night, so in order to cheer her up a bit and get her mind off her upset stomach, they'd started playing cards. The catch being that, whoever lost had to do something pleasant for the other.

If Aang lost, she'd get to pick a chore or something else that he had to do for her to make her feel better. Given that the score was four-two, he'd already lost quite a few times.

The first thing she'd asked him to do was bring her the pair of yellow woollen socks she'd knit for him during their first winter together as a couple. Since Aang had lost twice in a row, the next logical thing she'd requested was a relaxing foot massage to stimulate the blood flow.

If Katara lost, she'd have to eat something healthy that would help her fight against that flu. The third time didn't turn out to be a charm for her. So she was half-forced to pluck a couple of grapes from the bunch he'd brought for her from the kitchen. And she unwillingly ate them all. Of course, he'd given her lots of praise afterwards.

Katara eyed the two fire cards tucked behind her thumb. A Queen of Fire and an 8 of Fire. The element of fire was chosen to be the trump card for this game. She had four cards remaining in her hands.

Aang defended her attack with another water card, then waited for her to add another one on the table. Or, on the blanket, to be precise.

"Don't have anything else to throw down?"

She hummed in thought for a moment before her fingertips grabbed the corner of the smaller fire card. Slowly tugging at it, she decided to put it on the table. The airbender groaned and picked up the entire pile.

"Ha-ha! You were asking for it."

"Yeah, I guess I was a bit of an eager lemur."

Katara released a short cough and, keeping in mind what he'd picked up, she chose that tiny air card for her next move. Aang defended her attack with ease and since she couldn't add any more, it was his turn again.

Now she only had two cards left. The Queen of Fire and a 5 of Water. Aang played a Jack of Earth on the sheets. She had to decide whether she'd take the risk and defend it with the fire card, or pick it up right away. She went for the risk.

Katara pressed a finger to her lips as she waited for his next move. But it never came. Aang looked at his hand a second time, then shook his head and let her throw those two into the pile of used cards.

"I win! You're the fool, again!" she cheered as she threw her final card onto the table. The airbender accepted his defeat with dignity and grace.

"Okay, okay.. so what do you want me to do for you this time?" he asked while tidying up the pile into a deck. The waterbender had a look around the room, humming in thought as her eyes eventually fixed on the floor.

"Hmm.. maybe you could wash the basin and refill it with some clean water? The smell is kind of making me sick," she claimed as she pinched her nose. She wasn't too fond of having to stare at her own vomit every time her gaze dropped to the bedside.

Aang agreed with her reasoning. He stood up and lifted the basin into his hands, already making his way towards the door when Katara tugged at his cloak to stop him for a second.

"Would you take the towel back to the bathroom while you're at it? Put it up on the peg to dry."

"Hey, no fair! That's two things at once."

"Please?" she begged, tilting her head a little. He started to feel sorry for her since she seemed so poorly. He couldn't say 'no' to her slightly reddish puppy eyes.

"Oh, alright, sweetie.."

The airbender dropped the basin and swiftly spun around. He cupped her cheek and leaned down to leave a soft peck on her temple. His thumb ran over the blush on her cheek.

"But next time you lose, you gotta eat two different things at once. Okay?"

"Okay," she murmured.

Aang ran his fingers through her hair before he went to pick up the towel. He threw the damp thing over his shoulder, picked up the basin and began heading towards the bathroom.

"And maybe you can take the tray of dirty dishes to the kitchen, too?"

"Katara-aa.." he groaned from the hallway. He could hear her quiet snickering.

"Alright-alright.. you can take the tray with you the next time you lose," she shouted in return, then plopped into the bed.

Speaking of dampness, the waterbender ran a hand over her forehead, wiping off a few beads of sweat. Something that injected more contentment into her sore limbs. Her fever was going down again, even if it was by a few tenths of a degree.

Katara pushed herself closer to the edge and reached for the small rag, dipping a corner into the bowl of cold water. She softly patted her face with the wet part to cool herself.

Once she was done, she carefully put it back on the edge of the vanity, among all their other piled up stuff. She pulled the top drawer open and wriggled her fingers through the narrow gap to grab her comb.

Her hair, especially the loose half below the scrunchy, was a bit of a mess after a restless night. She removed the scrunchy and pulled the hair loopies out of the bun, letting the entire mass of locks fall freely. In hindsight, it might not have been the best idea.

There were several nasty knots near the nape of her neck, where the bun had kept everything together and neat. As she began attempting to soothe them out, the long strands from the sides and the loose hair loopies started falling in front of her eyes. She snarled a couple of times as she tried to brush them aside with the back of her hand, but to no avail.

By the time Aang returned, she looked like someone had been playing around with the octopus form.. on her hair.

"Wow, you look worse than before. What happened?"

"I tried to comb my hair, but it just kept getting more tangled up," she admitted, almost on the verge of tears. She lowered her head in shame as the airbender put the basin of clean water down on the carpet, right next to the bedside. The wavy reflection of herself only made her feel worse.

Aang perched on the edge of the bed and attempted to comfort her by stroking her head. He gave her a warm smile.

"Well, let's see if we can fix that. First, let me find your pretty little face behind these strands."

His smile grew as he brushed the loose hairs aside and revealed her flushed face. In turn, her anger dissipated as her vision became clearer with each stroke. She smiled back at him, gratefully.

"There we go. That's what I like to see. My beautiful, sick, but happy waterbender."

Katara chuckled at that. She averted her gaze shyly, letting him graze her cheek with the back of his hand a couple of times. She felt how his other hand manoeuvred past her fingers and grabbed the comb from her palm.

"Here, let me help you with that. Why don't you shuffle the cards for the next round, hm?"

"Okay," she agreed in a much calmer tone. She sat up a bit so that Aang could inch closer to her side from behind.

While her husband was busy untangling the knots in her hair, she shuffled the pack and dealt five cards for both of them. The element of water happened to be the trump card.

"Shall we play? Or do you wanna finish up back there?"

"Hold on.. just give me a second to tie this up. And then we can play."

He didn't have enough time to redo her hair loopies, so Aang fastened all of her loose hair into a wolf tail by using the scrunchy. He fluffed the thick bundle a couple of times before he stood up to sit back down opposite to her.

To his surprise, he couldn't get his eyes off her as he slowly fell onto the mattress and faced her. Katara took notice.

"What?" she asked, leaving him speechless for a second.

"Oh! Nothing, it's just.. you look beautiful when you wear your hair like that."

She patted around her head and touched the scrunchy up on the back.

"Like what? Like a wolf tail?"

A rather thick and long wolf tail, he would say.

"Yeah. You should do it more often. It makes you look fierce, like the rest of the Southern Water Tribe warriors. Maybe you could ask Sokka to borrow his helmet and uniform some time? You'd look amazing in it with this style."

Katara blushed a little bit more. Now that he put that image into her head, she couldn't get rid of it anymore. And she liked it. She looked away, a loving smile on her lips.

"Thanks!"

Aang picked up his cards, after which she regained her composure and did the same. They began playing the second round of fool for that day. And this time, the odds were in the Avatar's favour for a change.

He played the King of Air and watched how Katara defended it with a 7 of Water. He laid another king next to that one. The waterbender bit her lip and remained in thought for a couple of seconds before she defended that one with a 10 of Water.

"You got anything more?"

"Hmm.." the airbender pondered, then pulled out a card from the middle of his hand and placed it on the blanket, in the same row as the other ones. It was another king, and she didn't have anything to defend it with. She had to pick up the whole pile.

"Sorry, sweetie, but.."

Aang only had two cards left. He threw the Ace of Water on the sheets first, forcing her to pick it up as well. After that, he revealed his last card, a 3 of Fire.

"I win!"

Katara feigned a groan as she dropped her huge, losing hand in her lap.

"Well played, sweetie. You win fair and square.." she said, gathering up the rest of the cards into a neat pile.

"So I guess it's my turn to boss you around for a change."

The waterbender lifted a hand to her mouth, like she was preparing for the food wanting to come out of her stomach the wrong way. She gulped.

"What are you gonna force-feed me this time?"

"Oh, I have a few things in mind.." Aang claimed, a cheeky grin on his face as he stood up and began creating an air ball to ride down to the kitchen. Katara tugged at his cape before he could jump on the sphere.

"But nothing too sweet, okay, sweetie?"

He smiled back at her, laying a hand on her shoulder reassuringly.

"I'll see what I can find."

And with that, he hopped on the air scooter and hurried downstairs.

Katara shuffled the cards around for a while, to get her mind off the fear of choking up everything she'd managed to keep down so far. She put the deck of cards away on the only empty corner of the nightstand.

The rumbling inside her stomach contradicted her thoughts. She was craving for all kinds of sweets right now. That darn organ just happened to be really picky when she was sick.

She was busy running circles above her tummy when her husband returned. He gracefully hopped off the air sphere and let it dissipate in the hallway. She eyed the medium-sized bowl and the jug in his hands.

"What's that?"

"Oatmeal with blueberries, and milk, if you want."

He perched on the edge of the bed and scooted closer to her, offering her the bowl and spoon.

"I thought that since you didn't have anything for dessert earlier, and everything that tastes too sweet makes you sick, then maybe this would be a delicious alternative."

She picked up the bowl from his hand and simply stared at its contents for a few seconds before she looked at him, begging for some encouragement.

"Just try it. I'll eat the rest if you don't wanna."

She gave him a faint smile, then lifted a small spoonful into her mouth. Both to his, and her own surprise, her face lit up.

"Mmmm!" she hummed before swallowing it.

"Do you like it?" Aang wondered, watching how she lifted a bigger spoonful this time and ate all of it. She nodded while munching on the oats.

"Mhmm! Thi-sh ish really good, sh-weetie!"

He laughed with joy and rubbed her cheek with the back of his hand.

"That's great! Now you can quit being on a dessert diet."

She giggled in return and lifted more spoonfuls to her mouth, taking the time to actually chew through the solid food and enjoy it for once.

"Now thi-sh ish the kind of dessert I can sh-tomach."

Aang felt proud. Proud that he'd managed to find something in the pantry and prepare it into a presentable and edible dish on such short notice. But more importantly, he was relieved that she was able to eat her meal without much reluctance. She really seemed to enjoy it, and he loved seeing her this way. Being happy.

He poured some milk on the oats when she asked for more, after which he put the jug away. Aang sat right next to her and urged her to scooch forward.

"Tell me if you start feeling sick, okay? I'll hold onto your hair so it won't fall in front of your mouth when you have to lean over the bedside."

She finished chewing and swallowed the mouthful to speak.

"I will. Thanks, Aang."

He carefully removed the scrunchy and let her hair fall freely again. Next, he began combing her hair into strands. Once the comb didn't get stuck in any bigger knots anymore, he could grab a thick bunch from the middle to roll it up into a bun.

Katara felt like she was being given a massage on her head. With each stroke of the teeth that ran along the right spots, a pleasurable shiver ran down her spine.

"Look this way," Aang coaxed her to tilt her head to the side. She blinked when his fingers came close to her left eye, but he styled her hair with utter care. From the corner of her eye, she saw him slip a blue bead through the thinner strand, fixing the tiny piece of jewellery up near her temple. He did the same on her right side, thus forming the two hair loopies, which he attached to the bun.

Before he could start braiding the rest of her loose hair, Katara used the opportunity to get up and put her empty bowl on the tray of dirty dishes from earlier.

"Do you need some help?"

"Nah, I'm good," she said, taking those couple of steps back to the bed. She did look stronger when she walked around, but the airbender still took her hand in his and supported her from her back as she climbed under the sheets. He joined her and welcomed her into his embrace.

"Aahh.." the waterbender sighed contentedly as she settled down between her husband's legs and rested herself against his chest. Her fever had fallen, she was wearing clean clothes, her tummy was full of yummy food. She could laze around the rest of the day for all she cared.

"Are you full?"

She answered with a loud belch.

"I take it that's a 'yes'," the airbender chuckled and rubbed her belly together with her. Katara released another hum.

"Mmm.. that dessert was so good. Thank you, sweetie."

She raised their entwined hands and brought them closer to her lips, leaving a soft peck on his tattoo. He lifted it higher to graze her flushed cheek.

"I feel as if I'm hugging a fireplace."

"What do you mean?" she mumbled while he ran his fingertips down the side of her face, tenderly stroking her temple a couple of times.

"You're so warm. I could be your thermometer."

"No offense, sweetie, but you wouldn't be the most accurate thermometer."

"I can be accurate enough. See?"

He touched her forehead to check her temperature.

"Diagnosis? Too hot."

Katara snorted and burst out in laughter, but it was soon replaced with another horrible coughing fit. She rolled onto her left side to spit the milky phlegm out into the basin.

"Feel better?"

Aang rubbed her back before she plopped back down against him. She hacked a little bit to regain her voice and get rid of the excess mucus that hadn't come out of her throat.

"Yeah. I'd feel even better if I had something to drink right about now."

The airbender obliged by waterbending some cold drinking water into her glass. Her cosy seat inched further away for a second when he had to reach for the glass, but she was rewarded with a refreshing beverage.

"Here you go."

"Thanks!"

Katara took a bigger sip and rinsed her mouth of the bad taste. She felt his cool palm land on her forehead one more time. She received a tender kiss behind her left ear after that.

"Can you sit up for a minute? I haven't finished your braid yet."

Some of her hair remained stuck between her back and his chest, but he needed more space to do the beginning of her braid.

So she finished her drink and let him put the empty glass away, then propped herself up. Aang looped his arms under hers when she groaned from the discomfort. Her legs might've been stronger, but her arms were still achy.

"Atta girl.." he praised, supporting her until she was sitting upright. The waterbender patiently sat there like that for another few minutes while he weaved the three strands over one another. He allowed her to rest against him once the braid started to take form.

She snuggled into his lap and pulled the blanket higher. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, to see how his hands fastened the scrunchy to the end of her braid. Maybe being sick occasionally wasn't so bad after all. Not if she had a doctor like Aang around to take care of her.

The newly built clock on his island chimed three times. She'd probably get to relax for another hour or two, before her fever would start plaguing her again. Or until the next time she'd feel the need to vomit again.

And then they would repeat the same routine in the evening. And the next morning, a couple of hours later around lunchtime, and again.. It sounded tedious, but she enjoyed every minute of it. To Katara, he was her best healer in the world.

#Kataangtag #Kataang #Aang #Katara #ATLA and TLOK #my fanfiction #mine #shards of Kristal

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fixreceding-gum-line · 3 years

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Fix Receding Gum Line

One of the most prevalent home remedies to regrow gums is by using homemade remedies. The main ingredient in homemade remedies is apple cider vinegar and a good home remedy for tooth decay is using a natural toothpaste with apple cider vinegar. By applying both ingredients on the affected region of the tooth you will be able to stop the development of the infection. If you read more about Can I Fix Receding Gums? click here https://www.allhealthhub.com/can-you-fix-receding-gums-at-home/

This mixture is going to have exactly the very same effects like being a prescription type toothpaste for curing gums and teeth. Applying the mixture into the tooth is effective because it receives the problem started and can help with the healing procedure. Employing the mixture twice a day will assist in the growth of the affected location.

Options To Fix Receding Gums

Another natural toothpaste for treating gums that is available is using baking soda. The mixture of baking soda and water should be applied to the affected area and made to sit for an hour or so before being rinsed away with tap water. This mixture may help soften the plaque buildup and will help prevent further damage to one's teeth. A toothbrush should be applied to brush the mixture from their moutharea.

One of the most useful home remedies to regrow receding gums would be by drinking more water. An everyday basis you can drink two quarts of water daily to maintain your gums as healthy as possible. The acidity in the water can help to kill any bacteria which are living on the teeth which will stop future problems from occurring.

Home remedies to regrow receding gums are also simple to accomplish yourself. For instance by using a natural toothpaste using apple cider vinegar it is possible to make use of a toothbrush to gently use the mixture to the affected area of the tooth and rinse it away with tap water.

Home remedies to regrow receding gums are also affordable. That you don't need to go out and spend a lot of money on costly prescriptions or even dental work. The benefits of these natural home remedies are well worth the purchase price. Some people feel healthier due to owning a much healthier smile.

There are many natural remedies for oral health which it is possible to search for preventing and preventing the development of the gum disease. That you never require a lot of dollars or even plenty of time and energy to do the task and the majority of those natural methods will be finished at the comfort of one's home.

Can U Fix Receding Gums?

The ideal thing about using natural home remedies to regrow receding gums would be that you wont need to be worried about spending more for painful surgery or overthecounter medicines. You just have to remember to stick to the directions for that procedure you choose. You can find a terrific deal of information on those processes at the regional library or online.

The natural home remedies to regrow receding gums will work to eradicate the plaque that's gathering within the mouth. This plaque may block your teeth so they can not be properly cleaned by brushing. Brushing the teeth can cause harm to the enamel, which will sooner or later lead into the beginning of a significant dental problem. Unless you brush properly your teeth will get stained and this will cause them to seem unattractive.

Gums who are infected with plaque will likely be inflamed and swelled up. This is the reason the very best thing that you can do to fight this ailment is to try to keep your mouth as clean as possible. You're able to make a mouthwash using lemon juice even lemon water, which will help fight off any germs.

A good brush for your teeth will be actually a bristled brush that's specifically designed to wash from the plaque that's built upon the back of your teeth. There are many kinds of toothbrushes that you can buy and this is a terrific investment in your dental health and fitness. You can buy toothbrushes in the regional drugstore as well as discount stores online.

Mouthwash can be also a fantastic means to combat the bad breath that causes your gums to become swollen. By making use of mouthwash you'll be able to get rid of those nasty breath by brushing twice per day. Mouthwash is also an exceptional treatment that will help you get rid of the bacteria which are causing the problem of gum disease.

Can You Fix Receding Gums?

Home remedies to regrow receding gums can help prevent further damage that could come from a problem in this way. There are many distinct solutions for this particular issue, however, the most famous of these are the usage of herbs and other natural ingredients which could be found in your house and around you.

A more frequent way to solve the problem of teeth which become thin and appearance yellowish or brownish is called periodontal disease. The roots of this tooth itself become very damaged as well and can't encourage the bone and the other tissues. If this occurs, the tooth will begin to weaken and start to lose its strength.

When this occurs, the gum tissue will start to erode, which causes the tooth to slowly slide out of its socket. When this occurs, it is important to get a root canal done. Whenever there's not a root canal done, the teeth will start to chip and crack.

Certainly one of the best home remedies to regrow your gums is the use of herbal remedies. These herbal solutions are simple to shoot, and they're safe to use. There are several unique herbs which can be used to provide your body the appropriate nutrients that it needs so as to remain healthy and strong.

Some of those natural herbs include garlic, which is known to help fight infections, and white mulberry, that will be used to help strengthen the gums. You are going to wish to take a couple drops of each herb every day. If you wish to simply take them onto an empty stomach just mix them in your oatmeal and eat it. For the best results, you need to simply take them before you eat whatever.

How To Fix Receding Gums At Home?

It's also important to maintain your root canal sterile and free of bacteria and germs. If you are having an over the counter remedy to cure the problem, you must be certain the substances you're using are sterilized.

If you're treating your problem with an over the counter treatment, it is ideal to attempt and locate one which is made out of natural ingredients. These ingredients are more likely to work properly and without causing any side effects. You should also make sure the treatment is approved by the Food and Drug Administration so you do not need any unwanted side effects whatsoever.

In summary, using home remedies to regrow receding gums does not have to be difficult. Using herbal remedies that are safe and effective, can make a difference in your own condition and help you get your gums straight back in health.

It's very important to keep your teeth clean and free from bacteria and plaque so that you do not have to visit the dentist. The only real method to cure your gums would be by getting them in order and making sure they are healthy.

Make certain you steer clear of foods which cause decay could make your gums worse. Keep away from food high in sugar and drinks which contain alcohol too.

This can help you understand just how to take care of your gums and be certain they remain healthy.

How To Fix Receding Gums Without Surgery?

Try to brush on the front of one's tongue and you would the own back of your tongue. Flossing will continue to keep the plaque out of your mouth and your teeth.

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reversing-gum-recession-blog · 4 years

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Reversing Gum Recession

Receding gums are an ailment that can be very painful for the two patients and their family . The symptoms of this condition include pain when chewing, staining the teeth, bad breath, and even bleeding gums when brushing. There are many ways to take care of your receding gums in home. Know more about Can I Reverse Gum Recession? click here http://orthomit.com/can-gum-recession-be-reversed/

- Gum disease is among the major causes of tooth loss among adults. This type of illness usually affects children, but can occur at any age. Gum disease may influence the gums in addition to the teeth, which can result in severe problems.

How To Reverse Gum Recession?

Compounds help to kill bacteria, however they do not kill the bacteria that cause the infection. Antibiotics will not cure the infection, but they can help to prevent it from getting worse.

- Pain killers can also help lessen the pain of gingivitis. Many pain killers are within the counter medicines which you could purchase from your local drugstore. These pain killers can help to numb the area and also to avoid any pain you will well be experiencing.

- Once you have gum disease, you may see that the area around your teeth is quite dry. Your dentist may prescribe you an antibiotic mouthwash, that will be very useful when you need to maintain the area on your teeth as quickly as possible. It will help prevent the growth of bacteria in your mouth, which can cause tooth decay.

- Fluoride helps to prevent cavities on the mouth and teeth. If you reside in a high fluoride area like Cleveland, or when your dentist recommends that you undergo fluoride treatment, you should make certain to speak to them about how it is possible to grow back receding gums in your home. The fluoride at fluoride treatments may be hard on the gums. It's best to avoid fluoride if you have dry mouth or chapped lips.

Can You Reverse Gum Recession?

- Oral rinse products such as mouthwash may be used also. These products have a compound that helps to stop the development of bacteria. That can cause cavities.

There are many ways to treat your gums in your home and you also might discover they start to grow back using only a few treatments. They can take time and work very well if you stay with the treatment. They can be used to stop the development of bacteria in your mouth in addition to help prevent the inflammation of gums.

If it comes to the sort of treatment which you utilize, you wish to check with your dentist and ensure you are using the appropriate products for the gums. You can even ask your dentist to recommend a product to utilize at home.

There are several diverse kinds of mouthwash you may utilize. You should find a way to come across a mouthwash which works well for the own personal situation and that's perfect for curing your gums. As a way to grow back receding gums in your home, you will need to make sure the mouthwash includes fluoride or antibacterial ingredients.

How To Reverse Gum Receding?

If you're using mouthwash, you should not brush your teeth more than twice as daily. Brushing is not only going to help prevent the growth of bacteria, but it is going to also help prevent the redness of the gums also.

You need to also ensure that you drink loads of water a single day to help flush out bacteria and help you grow back receding gums in your home. Drink lots of water and drink enough water every day, so that the bacteria in your own mouth stay away from your teeth and gums.

Are you on the lookout for methods to grow back receding gums in your home? When you experience a loss of gum tissue, it's an essential issue to know just how to care for the teeth to protect against further damage. One of the very first issues you need to do should you have begun to notice this problem is to seek advice from your dentist.

To begin with, the best method to take care of receding gums at home is to be certain you receive proper dental hygiene done by someone who has had experience doing this before. Many people would use mouthwash, but it's simply a temporary fix. There are times when you need to really see your dentist. The more you learn about your circumstance the more prepared you will soon be for the trip.

How To Reverse Gum Recession Naturally?

If you have periodontal disease, it is imperative you visit your dentist as soon as possible to ensure that your gums will not carry on to become infected. Once you start to experience gum disease, it is time to start visiting your dentist because this really is an extremely serious condition that can cause significant problems in the future. Your dentist may shoot x rays and take a look at your oral health. This might be the start of a prosperous treatment process to reduce the chance that you may need to undergo surgery.

One of those matters that many people do not think about when they see gum disease could be the impact it will have on their general look. They may have a problem with being forced to smile too widely and the design may be quite awful. There are quite a few different treatments readily available to help for this. These include:

The first thing that a dentist will do is simply take x-rays to find the degree of damage and infection that have occurred. Once he's performed these evaluations, the dentist should have the ability to generate a course of action that is ideal for you personally. The most useful thing you can do for yourself is to make a scheduled appointment with your dentist as soon as possible.

Reverse Gum Recession Naturally

The earlier that you have this appointment the easier it'll be setting an appointment to meet with him to ensure your questions can be answered and also to start discussing your treatment choices.

One of the first steps which he will need that will help you cure this problem is to look at your teeth. This consists of looking for signs of infection and fillings which might have started to form. When there is significant gum disease on your teeth, then it's imperative that you're able to understand your dentist immediately. Your dentist can recommend that you see a specialist who can perform a root canal procedure to treat your problem or which you can receive it removed with an extraction.

As a way to help to prevent additional damage, you could have to see your dentist or dental hygienist regularly so as to make sure that your gum tissue is growing in the perfect direction and not falling away. In some instances, you need to view them often as you want to. In such instances, you will need to find many different evaluations done such as for example x-rays and an study of the gum tissue.

How To Reverse Gum Recession At Home?

You are going to be able to keep the gum tissue growth when you treat it properly and also once you observe some of the recommended methods that will help with care of your gums in your home. Bear in mind you shouldn't ignore your requirement because it can be very serious and may result in more severe conditions.

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keeroo92 · 5 years

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Hunger Ch4

@dmcvvitale @tehrevving Here’s part four! Other than hints of necrophilia and a quick murder, this came out surprisingly vanilla. Enjoy!

Word count - 4,048

Part 1 --- Part 2 --- Part 3

___________________________

The city was quiet, subdued in the darkness of night. Only bars and nightclubs remained open, all other businesses unlit and hidden behind protective grates. Old newspapers skittered across the pavement in the breeze, accompanied by the thumping bass from the warehouse across the street. The streetlights offered periodic refuges from the shadows, a place for his prey to feel safe.

She was anything but.

The vampire crouched on the lip of a brick building, watching her every move as she pulled her phone from her bag. He’d been waiting for her to leave the club for hours, keeping himself occupied with memories of you, but at last his prey was in sight. Slim fingers tapped at the screen and the foolish woman forgot to pay attention to her surroundings. A mistake she would not repeat.

He licked his lips, running his tongue over his razor-sharp fangs. Her scent was a pale imitation of yours, her flesh several shades too dark, but the same silent need emanated from her like a siren’s call. It would have to be enough.

He slithered down to street level, keeping to the shadows until he was ready to make his move. His prey remained clueless.

Fool.

He crept closer, waiting for the familiar thrill of the hunt to flood his senses. This was his purpose, as a predator. To hunt and feed and kill those unfortunate enough to be his prey. What a perfect example tonight’s prey was, in her revealing mini dress and heels. A night of fun and revelry, only to end in blood and death. All that she could’ve become, could’ve done with her life was his to take. His to ruin.

Yet he felt no excitement, no anticipation or lust. He was empty.

Bored.

He shook himself, trying to recapture the joy of hunting. What a masterpiece she would be, eyes glazed in death with her own blood splashed across her frozen limbs. She was a canvas, and he the painter. A statement of broken dreams and stolen possibilities, begging to be realized.

V sighed.

He didn’t care.

She was nothing, a boring and plain human. Her lack of attention made hunting her too easy, child’s play. It left so much to be desired, and he was nothing if not a creature of desire. Perhaps she’d scream, beg for her life? He did so enjoy it when his prey begged…

“Please, Master…”

The vampire smirked. Your begging was sweeter than all others. Just remembering the whine of your voice sent surges of need coursing through his veins, a flood of endorphins only you had the power to summon.

He needed to decide. Were you worthy? Would you truly be his equal, or would you fall short? You had yet to disappoint him, in all the months of lustful and hungry experimentations, but the possibility still echoed in his mind. What if he turned you and everything changed? What if you lost your appeal?

A sharp pang of hunger twisted his stomach; he needed to feed, pondering your future could wait.

He flitted into the light and covered his prey’s mouth, other arm tugging her into the darkness. She tried to scream, her throat vibrating in terror as her eyes darted around, but barely a whimper slipped past his tight fingers. The cheap plastic of her heels clicked on the pavement as she struggled, desperate to free herself.

Her panic did nothing for him. If anything, it felt like he was taking the trash out. A chore, dull and tedious. What once brought him immense joy and satisfaction now barely required his attention.

Unacceptable.

He shoved her against the wall and leaned in, taking a deep sniff. The aroma of blood was enough to pique his interest, but only just. It was maddening; where was the thrill? Where was the excitement, the overwhelming rush? What was wrong with him?

Frustration pooled in his belly and he growled. His fangs sank into her flesh with no mercy. The moment he once drew out as long as he could was now only a task to complete. The crimson gush was flavorful and satisfying, but it tasted muted. Like a watered-down soda, lacking the body and decadence of the past. He had to force himself to keep drinking.

Venom dripped onto his tongue and he forced it into her wound; he didn’t care enough to keep her mouth covered any longer. She reacted quickly, pressing her body against his and humming as he slurped. What a pathetic creature. So utterly inferior, his cock twitched out of habit alone.

“Fuck me, Master…”

He snarled. Even thinking of your voice caused more of a reaction than the mewling chaff he was feeding on. Images of you flooded his mind, sprawled out and drenched in blood and ropes of his cum with that blissful afterglow. No matter how he tried to focus on his prey, you refused to leave his thoughts.

So lovely, such a good pet…

His meal moaned and tried to grind against him, lost in the grip of his venom. She tugged at his clothing, clumsy fingers scraping on his shoulders. It annoyed him and he sank his fangs even deeper. The river of scarlet flowing into his mouth quickened and the girl keened, arching her neck to give him wider access. As if he needed permission.

The thudding beat of her heart was fading. Even the knowledge that she was almost spent did nothing for him and he bit deeper still in irritation, tasting cartilage and gristle. Her arms fell away to the sides and her head drooped, her weakness growing every second. The torrent slowed to a pathetic drip and he reluctantly held her up as the last dregs passed his lips.

The girl went limp and he pulled away, watching as her features froze. What a disappointing meal, barely adequate to quench his hunger. She was so ordinary, truly a dinner to forget. He frowned and lowered her to the ground before turning away, wiping his face clean.

As he headed home, he pondered his dilemma again. You were the only one who held his attention now, the only meal he craved and yearned for. If nothing else, the girl in the minidress proved that much.

Yet you would die, and he would be left to return to old habits. It wasn’t a matter of if, but when. While turning you wouldn’t eliminate the possibility of your death, it would halt the aging process. You would gain considerable strength and power and no longer be at risk for several common ailments.

He already knew you’d embrace the dietary changes, and the idea of sharing a meal with you sent lightning racing up his spine. You always looked so delightful with blood smeared on your skin. To see you feed would be marvelous; how enticing it was to picture you making your first kill, looking back to him with blood dribbling from your reddened lips. The possibilities were endless.

You’d be more than his pet; you would be his equal.

The only potential downside was he would lose his dominance, but perhaps you were worth it. Never had a human held his attention this long, nor had he ever considered turning someone. Throughout the centuries, he’d met numerous remarkable people, yet you stood alone above them all. Unique. Irreplaceable.

Worthy.

It’s time.

Within minutes, he arrived at your door and knocked. Your car sat in the parking lot and a dim glow of illuminated bulbs made it clear you were home. He shifted his weight and peered through the glass, spotting your approaching form with ease. He stepped back to make room for the door to open.

“V? What are you doing here?”

He raised an eyebrow and stared at you until you remembered to invite him inside. Easily his least favorite side effect of his condition. You led him to your living room and sat beside him on the small couch, angling your body to see him better. The tasteful pajama set you wore brought a smirk to his lips.

“I have a proposal for you,” he began.

You leaned back, a startled look on your lovely features. “Uh, what?”

“You enjoy our time together, yes?”

He had to choose his words carefully. It shocked him to find how nervous he was, butterflies in his gut and palms clammy. He wanted this, more than he’d known. To have a companion, someone to soothe the loneliness of his existence, to share in his hunts and meals… and you were perfect for it, already acclimated to his needs and discovering your own. Though it was obvious to him how perfect a sanguisuge you’d be, convincing you would take some effort. He couldn’t afford to miscommunicate.

“Of course! Isn’t it obvious?” you replied with a light blush.

He smirked. “Indeed. But have you considered the long-term aspects?”

“What do you mean?”

He rested a palm on your knee, tattooed fingers rubbing circles in your flesh. The next few minutes would change everything, for better or worse.

“You are human, I am vampire. You will age and die, yet I will not.”

He stared deep into your eyes, letting his earnestness shine through. It wasn’t easy. He hated being vulnerable and to do so made his skin crawl. He was a predator; never should he feel so exposed.

He swallowed. “I can change that.”

The spike in your pulse was audible, going from a normal rhythm to a pace that would alarm anyone in the medical field. Your eyes went wide and you stiffened, frozen like a deer in headlights. He didn’t speak, letting you process his offer before explaining any minutiae.

“You mean… you can make me a… a vampire?”

He nodded. You stood and began pacing, arms crossed and brow furrowed in thought. It was a good sign that you didn’t dismiss him outright, yet as you turned around for the fifth time he grew annoyed. Surely you had questions? Why didn’t you speak? He licked his lips.

“I do not make this offer lightly.”

You hummed in acknowledgement but kept pacing. The vampire sighed and leaned back to wait, rubbing his temples to ease the first twinges of a headache. Another ten minutes passed before you broke your stride and came back to the couch with a sigh.

“I don’t know. Don’t get me wrong, I’m interested. But there’s so much you haven’t told me about what you are.”

He nearly growled. He was offering you the gift of eternity, and you didn’t know? Perhaps he’d overestimated you after all. “What do you want to know?”

You brought your legs up and turned to face him fully, cross-legged like a child. Glimmers of curiosity and excitement shimmered in your eyes as the questions poured out. “Can you die? I mean, are we talking total immortality or just invulnerability to certain things? How old are you? What’s the best thing about being a vampire?”

He smirked. Where to begin…

“I am three-hundred twenty-six years old. Quite young, for my kind. Barring an accident or a rare illness, I will live forever.”

He paused. What was the best thing about being this way? It wasn’t something he’d thought about before. There was the power, of course. The heightened senses. Longevity. Supremacy over all.

But the best part?

Freedom.

He met your eyes again with sparkling eyes. “The best thing about it is the freedom. Not a soul can command me, and I have all the time in the world to achieve whatever I wish. I never feel rushed, as I did before.”

He fell silent, waiting for the next round of questions. Perhaps he should’ve told you more before now but sharing his secrets did not come naturally to him. With an internal groan he scolded himself, struggling to remain patient instead of tackling you and turning you right then and there, just to get it done.

Three hours passed before you ran out of questions and fell silent, considering all he told you. Again he stifled the urge to take what he wanted and turn you, but he knew from personal experience how toxic an unwilling change could be. If he was going to have you for eternity, he couldn’t afford to start off by forcing you into it.

Don’t think of her as something to hunt, think of her as a comrade.

It was odd to realize how differently he saw you now. No longer were you just prey, or a pet to be used whenever he pleased. Weak as your body was, your mind was formidable. How else had you survived his attentions without breaking? Not to mention you kept coming back for more.

“I… I’ll do it,” you said, breaking his thoughts.

The vampire’s lips stretched into a feral grin. You were so perfect, why had he ever doubted you?

“Lie down, then.”

Your eyes widened. “Here? Now?”

“Why wait, pet? Are you going to change your mind?”

You glared at him and crossed your arms. Even petulance looked lovely on you and he smirked as you stammered a comeback, already scooting into a prone position.

“No way!”

He barked out a laugh and crouched, brushing your hair aside and dropping his fangs with a click. A glance at your eyes showed him how sure you were and he hummed in approval, lowering his mouth to your neck.

“Wait!”

He leaned back with a quizzical look. Your hands were at your belt, pulling away the denim with a bit lip and tinted cheeks.

“Can you do it while we’re… um…”

He smirked, a knowing twinkle in his gaze. “Yes, but why?”

Your flush deepened and you looked away, unable to hold his stare as you answered. “I… I want my last moments as a human to be… with you inside me.”

Truly, you were a delight. Such a perfect complement to his perversions, it sometimes seemed as though you read his mind.

He trailed his fingertips down your stomach, dipping under your top to caress the soft skin and leave goosebumps behind. Blood flooded his cock and he leaned down to kiss you, a rare treat for your honesty. Your lips opened to his without preamble and he flicked his tongue forward, teasing you.

He pulled away to tear off his clothes, impatient to feel you around him again. What would it feel like, when you changed? Would you massage him or go limp? If he timed it right, maybe you’d change mid-orgasm.

He smirked.

Your fingers stroked his naked thigh and he refocused his attention; you had undressed while he was distracted and already had yourself on display for him. Such a good girl.

He grabbed his belt and used it to tie your wrists over your head, draping them over the armrest. You whimpered at the sight of his hardened length and he arched his hips forward, allowing you to taste him. Your lips looked so lovely, wrapped around his cock.

He fisted your hair and forced your head into the right angle, rolling his hips faster and deeper as you started choking.

“Look at me,” he commanded.

You moaned, the vibrations echoing up to his balls as you opened your eyes and met his gaze. What a vision. He rolled forward again, tilting your head so he hit the back of your throat with a muttered curse. The things you were doing with your tongue had him panting, reeling at the glorious wet heat. The resistance of your gagging was bliss, knowing how easily he could force his cock further despite your body’s revolt.

“Good girl,” he sighed.

When he felt his peak approaching, he jerked your head with such force it felt like he was taking you from behind. Your neck was straining to take him, muscles spasming as tears leaked from your still open eyes. He knew you couldn’t take much more and pulled away, using his hands to stroke his saliva-covered length into ecstasy.

You were still gasping for air as he climaxed with a deep groan, hot ropes shooting into your open mouth and across your face. The gooey white mess complimented your skin perfectly and he shot the last few strands across your collarbone to drip onto your breasts as you swallowed.

But he was only getting started.

He climbed onto the couch and lowered his hips to meet yours, his still hard cock coming to rest against your folds. With a subtle motion he had his head teasing your clit and you whined, begging him to send you over the edge as your arms reached up to scrape at his patterned sides. His earlier recollections of your pleading were nothing compared to the music of your cries.

Just this once, he did as you asked, bringing you to a shuddering climax just as he sheathed himself. It always felt incredible to be inside you, but to have the very first thrust feature your quivering walls was sinfully decadent. You massaged him well, like you were made for him. Arcs of lightning danced across his nerves. Fire trailed after your nails as you clawed at him, red trails mixing with the black of his tattoos. He leaned down and rested his weight on one arm, using the other to rub at the bundle of nerves between your legs.

“Are you ready?” he asked, popping his fangs with a sharp click.

You nodded, determination coloring your eyes alongside the arousal.

He slammed into you as his teeth descended onto your sternum, right over your heart. The blood that flooded his mouth tasted like honey and strawberries, so much more delicious than his earlier meal. He suckled as his hand drew lazy circles around your sensitive core, his cock still plunging deep inside and making you curse between moans.

He gorged himself, slurping away until he knew you were almost dry. Years of practice made it easy to know the exact moment to strike. Your arms fell away to rest by your hips, even the flush on your cheeks muted from blood loss.

As the flow slowed, he increased his pace and dripped a dose of venom in your system. The last few beats of your dying heart were thunderous as you clenched around him and wailed, hands twitching feebly as if you wanted to touch him but lacked the strength.

Three seconds after your heart stopped, he bit deeply into his cheek and laved his own blood over your wound. His hips slowed as you went completely limp, internal muscles sagging around his length. For a few seconds, he couldn’t help but worry he’d done something wrong. What if it didn’t work, what if he killed you?

Come on, come on!

He gave you more of his blood, siphoning off every drop that leaked from his cheek. How long did this normally take? To lose too much of his own blood was unacceptable, but how much did he have to spare?

I should’ve called Michael before attempting this.

But then he felt it.

A single thud under his lips.

He stopped breathing and focused. Another thud.

Then another, and another. A steady rhythm; you were coming back.

---Reader---

The first thing you noticed was sound. A wet slap, panting breath and creaking furniture. A delicate hum in the background, electricity flowing through the walls. You heard the wind outside, the flies in the next room buzzing over the fruit bowl. Everything, all at once.

For a single heartbeat, it was too much. An overwhelming storm of noise, too much for your mind to comprehend.

Then V spoke.

“Keep your eyes closed for now,” he murmured. “You’ll get used to it.”

Every fiber of the couch beneath you was a copper wire, scraping at your sensitive skin. Flames of arousal licked at every inch of your skin, begging for his attention and release. His weight hovering over you was like the sun itself as he rolled his hips. Your nerves sang a heady opera at his touch, howling glorious ecstasy to the skies as you instantly shattered. The slick fluid leaking from your body tingled on your skin, the white lines on your face and chest radioactive in their intensity.

Holy fuck!

You keened his name, wrapping your trembling arms around his body and pulling him closer. All you wanted was more contact, more stimuli, more, more, more. Every ridge of his length inside you was so detailed you could’ve drawn it with your eyes closed. The hairs on your arms stood on end as waves of energy pulsed through you, a torrent of wanton delight. You arched your hips and met his pounding thrusts and felt your ass reverberate with each slam.

The sweat on his skin and yours, the taste of his breath and the scent of the air freshener in the next room left your nostrils twitching, hungry for more input. The dishes in the sink, musty rain on its way, plastic and cotton. You smelled everything.

I need to see, need to look at his face.

You opened your eyes slowly, a millimeter at a time. Dim outlines of V’s body and the couch seared into your mind, the light so bright you wondered if you’d go blind. You waited for what felt like years as your eyes adjusted, instantly staring at the vampire above you in awe.

His skin was breathtaking, alabaster streaked with onyx. The planes of his shoulders dipped and shifted as he brushed the damp strands out of his eyes, and his eyes…

Shades of emerald and jade mixed together in filaments, a line of hazel here and there. A ring of dark pine surrounded his pupils, a frame for the mesmerizing gaze half-hidden by dark eyelashes. It was like you’d never seen him before, so many facets and details never even hinted at with human senses.

You knew you were staring, but you didn’t care. Every inch of his flesh was brand new, smooth and sculpted and beautiful.

He looks like a Greek sculpture come to life…

Fangs popped out of your canines, piercing your lower lip in a flash of sweet agony. He grinned down at you and twitched to scrape at your walls, tapping at your cervix. It was too much and you crested again, gripping him with all your new strength as pleasure rolled through you. You cursed and went rigid, turning to ash and basking in the scorching light. His hips stuttered against yours, following you into paradise and making a deliciously lewd noise as he spewed his seed deep in your body.

His grunts were a beacon and you smirked as you reached out to pull his shoulder to your lips, sinking your new toys deep into his flesh and getting a taste of his blood. He threw his head back and hissed as the fluid filled your mouth, the flavor so much more intricate than ever before. It was a fine wine, notes of cinnamon and something you couldn’t identify that fit him perfectly blended together.

“Not too much, pet. Wouldn’t you rather go hunting?”

Hunting. Right. You struggled to focus through the euphoric haze clouding your mind, releasing his shoulder and lying back on the rough couch. Your nerves were jangling, exhausted and energized by everything they’d endured so far. A deep ache of hunger tugged at you, demanding satisfaction. You licked your lips, savoring the last taste of V’s blood.

“Yes, please…”

He pulled out with a wet shlorp, smirking at you as he stood. A smear of red decorated his shoulder where you marked him and your hunger howled for more. Only the knowledge that his blood would do nothing to ease the gnawing emptiness kept you from pouncing.

“Get dressed, then.”

You pouted and fought your way to vertical, legs trembling as fluid leaked from your core. When you looked down to find your clothes you smiled as you spotted the two black dots over your heart, a mark of your new existence. It was a thrill to know you had eternity to spend with your vampire. Forever to dwell in bliss and euphoria, time to explore all the possibilities.

Your hunger screamed for a meal.

First things first.

Time to hunt.

Part Five

#Hunger #vampirism #vampire #reader insert #v x reader #devil may cry #my writing #dmcv #dmc5 v #dmc #spicy

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