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fleckcmscott · 4 years

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Another Year

Summary: Arthur’s birthday is coming up. Y/N wants nothing more than to make it great.

Warnings: Swearing

Words: 3,892

A/N: This request came from the one-of-a-kind, fabulous @sweet-nothings04! Thank you for asking for this. I enjoyed writing it a lot!

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask. Requests for Arthur and WWH are open! Keep them coming!

Y/N hadn't realized how much she'd missed putting together birthday celebrations. Not until the unexpected serendipity of falling in love again. Her ex-husband had preferred not to make a big deal of them, had stated he hated getting older. (Considering he'd been in his twenties, she'd found that assertion silly.) As her father had slipped away, special events and gifts had gone by the wayside to focus on routines that wouldn't throw him off kilter. She'd been invited to her sister's and brother-in-law's parties but had only stayed for the hour or two she'd hired a sitter. And while she wasn't the most attentive aunt, she always ensured her nephews and nieces at least got a card and money for a treat.

From what she'd gathered, birthdays had never been an important facet of Arthur's life. That had become obvious upon learning his was 11/21/1946 by reading documents instead of from him. When she'd discovered he'd turned thirty-five and hadn't even told her. But unlike her ex, it wasn't because he didn't want them to be. It was due to neglect, isolation, and the inability to connect. As much sympathy as she had for Penny, for her own illnesses and suffering, for what had been done to her, the wounds she'd inflicted on her son hurt Y/N’s heart. There were so many lost years. She was determined to make-up for them by spoiling him.

The diner where Patricia and she often met for lunch was halfway between their two offices. A five- or six-minute walk for them both. Y/N arrived first. She sat at the white and gold Formica counter and perused the menu. (Though she'd already decided to get her usual pastrami on wheat, garlic pickle, and coleslaw.) Patricia strolled in as the waitress jotted down Y/N's order, and told the young lady she'd have whatever Y/N was having.

They caught up quickly. The Wayne Foundation case was going to have a preliminary hearing in three weeks. Y/N couldn't have rolled her eyes harder. ("Thank god I won't be there. They'd have to drag me off the stand.") Patricia listened with interest while Y/N went on about a dispute involving break violations at Ace Chemicals. And Patricia invited her to stop by the office soon, claiming Matt had realized he'd been stupid to let her quit. ("I'm sure he misses me being a pain in his ass.")

Y/N was picking at the crust of her sandwich when she changed the subject. “I need a favor.”

Patricia arched a brow at her. “Is this going to involve me lugging boxes of files to your apartment?”

“Only if you want the workout.” Chuckling, Y/N shook her head. “Arthur’s birthday is next Saturday. You bake the best cakes. If I’m left to my own devices, he’s going to get something out of a Universal Foods’ box.”

“Mine are out of a box. I just modify the directions and make my own frosting.” Patricia used the rest of her bread to sop up her coleslaw’s dressing. “How old did you say he’s going to be? Thirty-five?”

“Thirty-six.”

Swallowing her last bite, Patricia quirked up the corner of her lips. “I still owe you for running those supplies to the office when my foot was broken. What kind does he like?”

Y/N hugged her tight across the shoulders. After a short discussion, they decided on chocolate with vanilla cream frosting - a safe choice. It would be small, since it was only for the two of them. Arthur had a job the day before. That would allow her to take it home without him seeing. She’d just have to keep him away from the fridge the rest of the evening.

They talked about the other things Y/N had in-store for him, the reservation, the gifts. She giggled, pleased at having successfully hidden it all from him so far. “You’re putting a lot of work into this,” Patricia said. “What did you do last year?”

“I didn’t know about it last year. He didn’t mention it.” Though Patricia was already aware of some of Arthur’s past, Y/N had kept the details to a minimum. She tried to think of an elaboration, one that respected his privacy but was honest. She started in on her pickle. “With Penny being sick - with everything he was going through...”

Sipping her coffee, Patricia spun her stool to face Y/N fully. “You don’t need to say anymore. I remember. It was hard for you both.”

The empathy in Patricia’s gaze prompted a smile. And reminded Y/N how grateful she was for a friend who was frank but unjudgmental. “Back then, he thought needing or wanting anything from me was a bother. But he’s getting better at letting me love him.” Y/N put a hand on her chest. “And now he’ll never need to mention it. It’s locked in here for good.”

~~~~~

Yesterday had left Arthur in a funk. One that showed signs of adhering to his brain the way flies had stuck to the tape he’d had to hang from the ceiling of his old apartment every spring. He’d spent close to twelve hours dancing and waving a “Store Closing! Everything 50-70% off!” placard in front of Dave’s Pleasure Emporium in Gotham Square. (The city must really be fucked if its denizens’ finances were shitty enough that adult shops were shutting down.) It had been his least favorite gig in months. But the slow season was coming on, and the pay had been decent.

The dull ache in his lower spine, radiating to his hip, had made it harder than usual to sleep. And soreness was seeping from familiar spots to sinews he’d forgotten were there. Even the tips of his toes hurt. Two more ibuprofen tablets and acetaminophen went down easily. Carefully, not wanting to rouse her, he removed Y/N’s hand from his stomach, wincing as he shifted onto his left side to alleviate the pressure on his right.

Thirty-five was too old for this. While he loved performing for children, he should have made it as a comic by now. And he should have finished school. He’d be able to do more than be on his feet all day, then. Have more options. Opportunities...

Or maybe he simply shouldn’t have taken that particular job.

The ability to stop catastrophizing, adjust his way of thinking, was new. And rare. He made a mental note to write today’s accomplishment in his journal and share it at his next appointment. The therapist would be impressed with him. Dozing, he thought his funk might abate after all.

It could have been five or fifty minutes later when he felt the comforter being dragged down. Heard the zip of the shades being rolled up. But he was in that snug state between wakefulness and slumber and refused to react. Then there was a pinch on his chin, a light weight on his scalp. “What are you doing?” he mumbled gravelly.

“It’s someone’s special day today,” Y/N said.

Oh. That’s right. He was thirty-six now.

Squinting in the bright sunlight filtering through their sheer curtains, he propped himself on his forearm. She was half-reclined next to him, draped in a short, black nightdress. The one she found a tad tawdry but he liked. He rubbed his eyes, his forehead. Thin cardboard stopped him when he reached his hair. His fingers followed it, found it tapered into a point.

A party hat. She’d gotten him a party hat. He couldn’t hold back his snort.

In his line of work, birthdays were for kids. He’d stopped caring about his own as a teenager. Penny had seemingly been glad he was around. But she never remembered. Hell, he’d had to remind her of her own. But the last acknowledgment of it, the last one before meeting Y/N, had been by a teacher. He’d gotten an extra five minutes of recess and escaped punishment for inappropriate laughter for the day.

This was his first birthday with a person who saw and loved him. Understood who he was. Knew he was more than some image projected onto him. A person who appeared thrilled he existed and to be in his life. As a husband. Every sit-com and film he’d watched had clued him in: wives deemed them important. They hid gifts, cooked special meals, sneaked around arranging parties. There hadn’t been any sneaking on Y/N’s part, none that he could detect. He wondered what she could have planned.

The kneading of her thumb in the hollow of his hip, briefs slung too low as usual, gave him a good idea of her plan for this morning. The entangling of their legs confirmed it. “I got donuts. Coffee’s ready.”

“You, um-“ He cleared his throat, closed his eyes at the brush of her thigh against his length. Which was getting harder with each touch of her lips to the crook of his neck. “You didn’t make breakfast?”

“No.” Her chuckle was throaty, full of desire. “I wasn’t going to torture you with burnt eggs.” She was pulling at his biceps, trying to get him to settle over her. “Let’s work up your appetite, Mr. Fleck.”

But he flinched and halted her movements. The painkillers hadn't kicked in yet. His muscles burned. "We'll get to it later," he promised between languid, lingering kisses. The kind that made him feel safe. Loved. Famished for her. She guided him onto his stomach, stroked him affectionately. Breaths mingling, they chatted lazily until they both cooled off.

Once his stomach started rumbling, Y/N insisted they get up, despite his protestations that he wasn't hungry. That staying under the covers with her for hours would be fun. That they could eat in bed, crumbs be damned. His back would get worse if he continued laying like that, she told him. He needed to stretch and move. Although he grumbled, his experiences with injuries, whether from overwork, assholes, or sleeping on a couch most of his life, had taught him she was right.

Following a cigarette on the fire escape, he went to the kitchen, grabbed a mug, and did a double-take at the round table in the dining nook. He approached it in disbelief. He tensed as he ran his hand along the rectangular gifts and their shiny red paper. Squeezed the puffy, tan winter coat. Fingered the silver ribbon tied to the chair, dangling from an aluminum helium balloon. The lump in his throat forced a short laugh. But he didn't cover his mouth, not having to hide from her. He shook his head, wiping at the sudden wetness in his eyes. "All this is for me?" He did his best to sound normal.

"No. They're for my other husband, Carnival." She came behind him, hugged him around his torso and splayed her fingers on his chest. "You may have met him. Has a penchant for making balloon animals? Wears pants with the cutest patch on his bottom?" He grasped her forearm, held her tight to him as his shoulders shook with mirth.

It wasn't yet eight o'clock. And the day was already shaping up to be one of his favorites.

~~~~~

At the vanity on Arthur's side of the bed, Y/N was attempting to create the perfect oval eye with brown liner. The wide smile creeping onto her face wasn't making it easy. But it couldn't be helped. Everything had gone wonderfully so far. Had more than met her expectations. She hoped his had been met, too.

She'd been badgering him to get a winter coat since last Christmas. (His teeth had chattered almost the entire time they'd stood outside to watch Gotham's Christmas parade. The hot chocolate from a vendor hadn't done much good. A long bath had been necessary to finally warm him up.) The one she'd picked out fit him well, and he'd seemed to like it, hanging it by the door next to his tan jacket. And she'd known he was attached to his trusty, foil razor. But it was over fifteen years old, taped together, and on its way out. The new one had a rechargeable battery. He wouldn't be tethered to the outlet over the sink if he wanted to move around a bit.

The twitch of his nostrils, his hitched breath as he'd whispered, "Thank you," had compelled her to kneel next to his chair. The poignancy of his reaction had affected her keenly. Hollowed out her core and filled it with compassion and love. He'd frowned and wiped his nose with the back of his knuckles. "Sorry," he'd scoffed, glistening eyes darting to hers. "I don't mean to be weird."

"You're not, Arthur." She'd gently removed his black and red polka-dotted party hat, set it on the table. "You're being you."

After a quick lunch, they'd leisurely strolled arm-in-arm through the neighborhood, including a visit to the nearby park. Arthur had wanted to stop into the used record shop three or four blocks away. She'd caressed up and down his back, observing his content visage as he flipped through the LPs. It was lovely to see him treat himself to a couple without hesitating to worry about the cost for too long. At home, he'd settled on the floor by the record player and put them on. He must have been feeling better, because he'd kept his earlier promise: they'd made love on the carpet. Unhurried, sweet, and giggling like idiots.

The opening of the bathroom door broke her out of her reverie. She started blotting her darker-than-usual red lipstick with a tissue. "It was nice of Patricia to get me aftershave," he said.

She smoothed the lines of her champagne color, mid-length dress, adjusted its petal sleeves, then twisted around just as he entered the bedroom. Her movements halted. Would his handsomeness, his beauty, ever fail to stun her? Gaze roaming his slender form, she stared at him. He'd only worn his black and brown oxfords seldomly, saving them for special occasions. The wrinkled white socks didn't match his black pants, but they paired well with him.

It was the teal button-up, patterned with white circles of various opacities and sizes, that caused her to need a few seconds to process his remark. It'd hung in the corner of his old living room; she'd eyed it in their closet since he'd moved in. It was such a contrast to his usual conservative clothing. Quite unlike him, she'd assumed. But seeing him standing there in it, the way it complimented his lithe figure and brought out the light green of his irises, made him look a little less withdrawn, she realized she'd been mistaken.

"She thought it'd suit your new shaver." He gave a gentle hum in response, bashful smile appearing. Such gestures were unfamiliar to him. Eventually, they'd become such an integral part of his life he'd grow tired of them. Y/N would make sure of that. The idea prompted a grin and she stepped around the bed to approach him. "You look great. Are you ready?"

“Yeah.” The crook of his mouth, the furrow of his forehead alerted her to his nervousness. He rubbed the back of his neck, flitted his look to hers. “It sounds fancy.”

She kissed him soundly and he eased into her embrace. “You don’t have to impress me,” she said. “You already did that. Use whichever fork you want.”

The restaurant was in Gotham’s Little Italy district, only a block or two from Chinatown. Y/N had never been to Bamonte’s but her colleagues had given it good reviews. (One had said he and his wife went there every anniversary.) Arthur gaped when they went inside. She watched him survey the lavish, red curtains decorating the walls; the dim lanterns suspended from the ceiling; the faux-marble floor. Huffing, he turned to her, concern clear on his face. She grasped his elbow. “It’s all right. You belong here as much as anyone else.”

The maitre’d led them to a secluded table, behind its own drawn back drapes in the rear corner of the smoking section. Arthur traced the edges of the three lit, tulip-shaped votive holders. Caressed the cream color tablecloth as he sat in the fabric covered chair. An anxious chuckle left him and he smoothed his palm over his thigh. “I hope I don’t spill anything.”

Y/N assisted Arthur with the menu, explaining some of the more exotic-to-him dishes. He was interested in the antipasto, which wasn’t unexpected, since he always kept a jar of olives in the fridge. The gnocchi with tomatoes, spinach, fresh basil, and mozzarella was what he thought sounded best. She chose an old favorite, chicken in a mushroom and white wine sauce and a Caesar salad on the side. Arthur picked the least expensive Moscato on the wine list. When the bottle was opened and left on the table, he blinked at it, then shrugged and filled their glasses.

After a couple of sips, he crossed his legs and puffed on his cigarette. “I wrote a new joke. Well, I really just changed an old one.” He reached across the table to graze across the back of her hand. “Why didn’t the old man like having insomnia?”

Her eyelids fluttered, his gossamer touch setting her aflame. She ran her toes along his calf, his resulting twitch causing her to giggle in delight. “He wanted to sleep with his wife?”

Dark brows shot up in surprise, his eyes lighting up. Their fingers laced together. “How did you know?”

Leaning forward, she traced his crow's feet, prominent due to his beaming smile. Then her touch drifted to his jawline. “It was the first joke you ever told me," she murmured. "How could I forget?” Clutching her hand, he pressed a kiss to her wrist. He held her to his lips, hard enough to feel his teeth. And he grew quiet. “What is it?” she asked after a minute.

His eyelids shut. She could feel his pulse quicken together with hers. “I- I wanna sleep with you forever,” he breathed.

Out of anyone else’s mouth, she would have taken that to mean sex. From him, however, she knew it meant mountains more. Adoration welling in her chest, her fingertips weaved into his loose, chestnut curls. “You will.”

~~~~~

Once, in high school, Arthur had gotten a hold of some grass. It was supposed to induce giddiness and euphoria, make a person relax. God knows he could have used it back then; Penny had started declining and he’d had to learn to run a household. Plus, he’d thought at the time, it’d make him one of the guys. All the cool kids were doing it. Maybe he’d be able to connect with one and learn how to be popular. But all it had done was make him nauseous and paranoid. There hadn’t been one iota of the “high” he’d imagined. He’d thrown it out and never tried it again.

Now he wondered: was it possible to be high on a person? To be drunk on their presence? To feel their essence down to the cell? Necking on the sofa with Y/N, their coffee forgotten on the coffee table, he figured it must be. Enraptured, he wanted to capture her ragged breaths, take her into his lungs, make her a perpetual part of his being. Perhaps he’d stay happy naturally, then, like everyone else. Even if that didn’t work, she’d always be close.

Giggling, she pushed him off her and headed towards the kitchen. “Wait here. No peeking.”

Laughing softly, Arthur pushed his hair out of his face. She’d already gotten him gifts. Let him make love to her. Taken him to an eatery where he was totally out of place and managed to make it comfortable. What else could she possibly do? Luckily, he didn’t have to wait long. He eagerly followed at the call of his name.

The loveliest cake he’d ever seen was on the counter. Dark chocolate shavings embellished its round border. And it was the perfect size for the two of them. Y/N was rushing to light a mass of candles on it. “Quick, make a wish before wax drips onto the frosting.”

He mused for a moment. He no longer needed to pine for daydreams and delusions of companionship - he had Y/N. In spite of the icons his mother had had in every room of their apartment, he’d long ago stopped praying to what he suspected was nothing for his conditions and illnesses to go away. Then it occurred to him. Bending to blow out the candles, he wished for his innate comedic gifts to be recognized. To be validated as the stand-up he knew he was. And to provide for Y/N. To be what she needed. To make her happy.

Although he was grateful for Patricia’s thoughtfulness, and he knew Y/N’s baking wasn’t better than his own, part of him had wanted her to be the one who made the cake. But he tried to push that aside and appreciate it regardless. The slice she gave him was far too generous. He ate it all, anyway, because it was delicious. The sponge was fluffy. And the chocolate could actually be detected, instead of a vague, sugary flavor. The frosting tasted finer than that on the grocery store bakery cupcakes he’d sampled in the past.

As he was rinsing off the cutlery, Y/N saddled up beside him and held out a bright purple envelope, inscribed with “Happy Birthday!” in her pretty longhand. He leaned his hip against the counter as he grasped it, intentionally brushing his hand against hers. Gingerly, he lifted the flap and pulled out the card.

The cardstock was a vibrant gold and white. Two mugs, one green and labeled, “Yours,” one pink and labeled, “Mine” sat on sketched coasters. The shiny purple letters underneath proclaimed, “You get me. I get you.” Pressing his thin lips together, he opened it. And sighed when he read the rest: “Hope you know how happy that makes me.”

One of his wishes had already come true.

The elation coursing through his veins made him shudder. He nearly missed the stiff papers that fell from the envelope. Y/N retrieved them and gently placed them in his palm. A wide smile spread across his cheeks as he read aloud. “‘Gotham Pops presents A Night with Gershwin?’” He double-checked the date. “These are for New Year’s Eve.”

She nodded. “I snagged them as soon as they went on sale. They’re orchestra seats.” Then she squeezed him flush to her side, bumped her nose to his. “Don’t think I haven’t heard you sing to yourself in the tub.”

“Oh,” he chuckled, eyes tracing the diamond pattern of the grey, linoleum floor. “I thought I was quieter.”

“I’m glad you weren’t.” Enthusiastically, her lips pulled at his before she grinned up at him. “Did you have a happy birthday? Was it worth getting older?”

Arthur’s answer came without delay. “Yes.” There wasn’t a way to explain what it meant to him, to explain that she helped him feel good to be alive. How full his heart was. That she patched cracks in his soul he hadn’t known existed. He longed to do the same for her. He cupped her jaw on either side, guiding her to his mouth and rasping, “I don’t mind getting older with you.”

~~~~~

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve @howdylilflower @sweet-nothings04 @stephieraptorr @rommies @fallenstarsabyss @gruffle1 @octopus-plasma @tsukiakarinobara @arthur-flecks-lovely-smile @another-day-in-chuckletown @hhandley80 @jokerownsmysoul

#arthur fleck #arthur fleck fanfic #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x female reader #arthur fleck x ofc #joker 2019 #watchwhathappens

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whumphoarder · 5 years

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Them’s the Breaks

Summary: Peter is home alone and ends up breaking his ankle. Figuring his super healing will fix it overnight, he doesn’t tell anyone and tries to sleep it off, only to wake up in the middle of the night in agony. Cue Tony, saving his ass yet again.

(Alternative title: Super Healing is Not All it’s Cracked Up To Be Tibia)

Word count: 3,174

Genre: Whump, hurt/comfort, fluffy angst

A/N: Thanks to @sallyidss for beta reading!

Link to read on Ao3

Prior to being bitten by a radioactive spider, Peter had broken exactly one bone in his life.

He was eleven. Someone dared him to do a flip on a trampoline at a classmate’s birthday party. The flip itself was mediocre, but the landing was legendary. Blood streamed down Peter’s face from his now crooked, throbbing nose, ruining both his brand new stormtrooper t-shirt and the horrified birthday girl’s pink dress.

Ned—ever the sympathetic friend—had puked on the spot, which hadn’t done wonders for either of their middle school social statuses.

Peter managed to hold it together pretty well for the twenty minutes it had taken Ben to arrive, but the second the car door was shut and they pulled out of the driveway, the façade crumbled. Peter’s shoulders shook and tears ran down his cheeks, stinging his nose, because, as it turned out, broken bones just really hurt. Almost as much as Peter’s pride.

But Ben was there, and Ben always knew how to make Peter feel better. He cracked jokes about his nephew’s failing gymnastics career and tossed wadded up Burger King napkins at the kid’s messy face all the way to urgent care until Peter’s choked sobs turned to quiet giggles.

The doctor reset Peter’s nose and May fussed over him all weekend, making sure he was icing it appropriately. Three weeks later, he was back to normal.

But that was before the bite—before Peter had taken the unofficial job of crime-fighting teenage vigilante.

He’s up to eight bones now, lifetime total. Besides the nose, there were four ribs last summer (for the record, being thrown into brick walls really sucks), his collarbone back in January (missed a web and crashed onto the roof of a parking garage), and two fingers just before spring break (got stomped on by some dude gallivanting about in a rhino costume, what even is his life?). Luckily, super healing came as part of the package, so what had taken Peter’s sixth grade body weeks to repair, he now accomplishes in mere hours.

Today, however, it’s not Spider-Man who injures himself. It’s just Peter Parker, fresh off an evening patrol, wiping out in the goddamn shower.

“Oh shit!” Peter gasps sharply as his feet slide out from under him on the wet surface. His hand flies out on reflex and grasps the shower curtain, which he pulls down on top of him. As he slams onto the floor of the tub, his ankle rolls sideways underneath him. A split-second later, the metal curtain rod hits him in the face.

“...Rude…” he groans.

Water is still streaming down from the shower, splashing onto the sheet of vinyl now covering Peter’s body. He pulls the curtain off himself with another groan and gingerly pushes himself up to sitting. Half-blind from the shampoo running into his eyes, he reaches up over his head and fumbles for the shower handle. The water stops.

Peter makes to stand, but a sudden jolt of pain just above his ankle stops him. With a grunt, he lets himself fall back against the tub, teeth clenched.

Oh yeah, he’s never gonna live this one down.

It’s not his most graceful moment, but somehow Peter manages to extricate himself from the tub. Thankfully May is out of town this weekend so no one is around to hear the crashes and muffled curses issuing from the bathroom. He quickly dries off and pulls on some clean sweat pants and a t-shirt before hopping on his left leg to retrieve a bag of frozen peas from the kitchen. Once back in his bedroom, he carefully props the already-swelling ankle up on pillows and rests his makeshift ice pack on top.

It’s times like these when Peter curses his mutated spider metabolism for burning through normal painkillers so fast that Tylenol and ibuprofen are about as effective as Skittles. Tony has better drugs at the compound—the kind that actually work on him—but Peter isn’t too keen on explaining to his mentor how someone who’d stopped a runaway car with his bare hands and walked away without a scratch a few hours ago was no match for his own bathroom.

Plus, it’s really not that bad. He can deal. He’ll just sleep it off and everything will be fine by the morning.

Peter wakes to nauseating pain.

It takes him a moment to orient himself. He’s lying on his bed in a tangle of covers, a deep, pulsing ache radiating from his right ankle. He flaps his hand around under his pillow until he locates his phone and lifts it to his face to check the time. It’s 1:13 a.m.

God, this sucks.

When Peter pushes himself up to sitting, he can’t help but let out a muffled cry as a fresh wave of agony shoots through his leg all the way to the hip. It’s healing—he swears he can actually feel the bone knitting itself back together under his skin—but something about it feels different. Wrong.

Flipping on the bedside lamp, he pulls his covers off his aching foot and instantly gasps at the sight. It’s purple with bruises and swollen to double its usual size. On the side, right where the ache is deepest, the bone is jutting out at a weird angle and his stomach rolls at the sight. When he tries to move his foot slightly, searing pain nearly makes him lose his dinner.

This isn’t right. None of his past breaks have ever hurt this much. He can’t do this anymore—he needs help.

Fingers trembling, he types out his message: Mr. Stark? Are you awake?

It’s about thirty seconds before Peter sees the three dots indicating that Tony is typing: Haven’t slept since the 90s, kid. Why?

Peter steels himself with a deep breath as another pulse of pain stabs his ankle. He types out and backspaces a few different variations of his confession, ranging from ‘I fucked up my ankle and it’s killing me pls send help’ to ‘Nothing, just couldn’t sleep, sorry’ before finally settling on a vague version of the truth:

I might have done something dumb

Within five seconds of sending the text, Peter’s phone starts ringing, startling him. His fingers fumble to accept the call. When he speaks, his voice comes out more like a squeak than anything else. “Yeah?”

Tony cuts right to the chase. “How dumb are we talking here?” he asks briskly. “Because my lawyers generally appreciate a heads up.”

“No, it’s not that kind of dumb,” Peter manages to grit out through the pain. “It’s um… it’s just…” he trails off, not sure quite how to word this.

“It’s one in the morning. Just spit it out,” Tony prompts.

Tears are pricking at the corners of Peter’s eyes now, the ache somehow finding a way to become even deeper. “I-I got hurt,” he manages to say.

Tony’s tone instantly sobers. “Where? How bad?”

“No no, it’s not that bad,” Peter says quickly. “I just messed up my ankle or something. I thought I could just sleep it off and my healing would fix it, but it’s like”—he takes a shuddery inhale—“It just… it just really hurts, Mr. Stark.” He wants to cry; he feels absolutely pathetic.

Tony curses under his breath and Peter hears a lot of movement from the other end of the line. “Why didn’t I get any alerts from Karen on this?” he demands. “Because I put all those safety features in your suit for a reason and if I find out you coerced that Ned buddy of yours into disabling yet another layer of security, I swear to god, Pete—”

“I didn’t, I promise,” Peter interrupts. “Karen doesn’t know because it didn’t happen on patrol.”

“How did it happen then?”

“I just… kinda fell?”

“You fell?” Tony questions, confusion in his voice. “Fell where?”

Peter’s face flushes. “You know what, I-I’ll be okay,” he says. “I’m sorry to bother you, it’ll be fine in the morning, just—” Another pulse of pain shoots daggers up his right leg and his breath hitches.

“I’m already on my way,” Tony says, and Peter can hear the sound of wind rushing over the line now. “ETA, thirteen minutes.”

“Oh no, you don’t have to come out here!” Peter protests. “I just need some of those painkillers that you and Dr. Banner made. I dunno, maybe you could just send a couple over in one of your suits...?”

“Cute,” Tony remarks. “It’s adorable how you think I’m gonna let a fifteen-year-old dose out a drug strong enough to knock the Winter Soldier on his ass.”

“I’m sixteen now,” Peter argues. “Sixteen and a half, actually.”

“Equally adorable how you think stating your age in fractions helps your case,” Tony quips. “Listen, just hold tight, kid—I’ll be there soon.”

Peter sighs as the call disconnects.

Eleven minutes later, Tony arrives at the apartment and lets himself in with the spare key May had given him when it became apparent Peter's internship was more than just a run-of-the-mill semester-long program. He pauses in the doorway of Peter’s messy room to gaze at the miserable teenager sprawled out on the bed.

“Jesus, kid,” Tony swears quietly.

Peter gives a small wave. “Hey,” he mumbles. The nausea is back and he’s sweating slightly now. “Did you bring the drugs?”

“I did,” Tony says, his gaze narrowing as he steps closer to the bed, “but given that your ankle is currently resembling Violet Beauregarde’s, you’re not getting any until FRIDAY does her thing.”

Peter huffs, but he’s in too much pain to come up with anything witty to say. He holds still as Tony taps twice at the nanotech armor’s housing unit on his chest. A light appears and quickly scans over Peter’s body from head to toe.

After a moment, the light disappears again. “Scan complete, boss,” FRIDAY reports. “Partially healed misaligned fracture detected in the lower right tibia.”

“I broke my leg?” Peter balks. “I thought it was the ankle?”

“Your ankle is made up of three bones,” Tony explains. He pulls out his phone and starts typing something as he goes on. “Tibia, fibula…”—he pauses and glances up, frowning—“and that one that doesn’t rhyme.”

“The talus, boss,” FRIDAY supplies.

Diverting his attention back to the phone screen, Tony gives a short nod of acknowledgment. “Yeah, that one.”

“Oh.” Peter glances down awkwardly. “Um, I’m gonna take anatomy next semester.”

Tony hums absently. He finishes tapping out whatever message he’s been sending and pockets the device again. “In the meantime, I’m sure Bruce can tell you more fun bone facts when we get to Medbay.”

“Whoa, wait, what do you mean Medbay?” Peter demands, a fresh wave of panic and guilt crashing over him. “All I need is some meds so I can sleep through the worst of it and I’ll be fine,” he insists.

Tony huffs. “Your knowledge of anatomy might be lacking, but last time I checked you were getting an A in English so you should know that ‘misaligned’ isn’t a word you want connected to ‘fracture’. It’s healing wrong. You need x-rays. And a real doctor.”

With a groan, Peter drapes his arm dramatically over his face. “Great. Even my super healing is against me.”

“Not to mention you still haven’t told me how you fell,” Tony continues with a pointed look, “so if you’re trying to hide some other injury, or a vertigo thing, or—”

“I’m not,” Peter mumbles into the crook of his elbow. With a sigh, he lowers the arm from his face and looks miserably up at his mentor. “I just slipped in the stupid shower.”

To Tony’s credit, he doesn’t laugh.

(Even though his lips do twitch.)

Instead, he steps out of the bedroom and returns a moment later with a cup of water, which he hands to the kid along with two of the super strength painkillers from the orange pill bottle in his pocket. Peter downs them gratefully.

“Your aunt’s got her car here, right?” Tony checks.

Peter nods. “She took an Uber to the airport. Won’t be back until late Sunday. Conference for work.”

“Think she’d mind if we use it as a makeshift ambulance?”

Peter just shrugs.

“Alright then.” Tony presses the housing unit again and this time the armor encases his whole body. “Now I’m gonna pick you up and carry you down to the parking lot, and you’re not gonna make a big deal about it. Capisce?”

Peter suppresses a groan of embarrassment as he’s gathered carefully into Tony’s arms. Maybe next time he wipes out in the shower, he’ll get lucky and just drown.

The painkillers are strong and Peter ends up sleeping through most of the two-hour drive back to the compound. By the time they pull into the parking garage—May’s little dented Ford Focus looking positively ridiculous next to Tony’s array of expensive sports cars—it’s nearly four in the morning.

Bruce is waiting for them with a wheelchair, which Peter instantly balks at using.

“I don’t need that—I can totally walk,” he protests.

Bruce gives him a sympathetic smile. “Yeah, that’s not a good idea. Judging by the scans FRIDAY sent ahead for me, your bone rotated as it healed—that’s why it looks so deformed right now. Walking on it is only going to cause further problems.”

“You heard the man,” Tony says, gesturing to the chair. He smirks. “Unless you'd prefer me to get the suit on again.”

With a groan, Peter transfers himself into the chair. His ankle really does feel better now. The swelling is down and the pain only flares up when he jostles it too much—he can tell the bone has mostly knit itself back together.

Once back in Medbay, they’re joined by another doctor—someone from SHIELD called Helen Cho who Peter has never met before. She does some x-rays and an MRI while Peter half-dozes, still foggy from the medication.

When the scans are complete, he’s transferred back to a hospital bed while the two doctors talk over the results with him and Tony. Peter tries to pay attention but he’s still groggy and exhausted, so the medical jargon sounds more like irritating droning than actual words. Then all of a sudden, the three of them start throwing around words like ‘rebreaking’ and ‘inserting pins’ and ‘realignment surgery’ and Peter snaps right out of his haze.

“Whoa, whoa, what do you mean surgery?” Peter demands. “It’s fine, oh my god.”

Dr. Cho gives him a half-smile. “Look here, Peter.” She holds up the x-ray and points to the bulge on the side of Peter’s ankle. “This malunion is going to significantly reduce your mobility, as well as potentially cause chronic pain. Given your”—she pauses for a moment—“unusually active lifestyle, I would highly suggest surgical correction sooner rather than later.”

And that’s how, several hours later, Peter finds himself lying on a bed in a pre-op room at SHIELD Medical, waiting for some surgeons to take a bone-saw to his freshly healed right leg.

“How you feeling, kiddo?” Tony asks, plopping himself down in an armchair beside the bed.

“Really stupid,” Peter answers honestly. He gazes down at the deformed bones in his ankle. “All this from falling in the shower.”

Tony huffs out a laugh. “Eh, this shit happens. One time in college, I threw my back out during a ping-pong match with Rhodey.”

Peter’s eyes widen. “Seriously?”

Tony nods. “Bodies are dumb. Even enhanced ones—did you know Steve once sneezed so hard he dislocated a rib?”

Peter gives him a skeptical look. “Now you’re joking.”

“Cross my heart,” Tony chuckles. “Then Thor clapped him on the back and popped it back in.”

Peter opens his mouth to express his disbelief at this information, but before he can do so, a nurse dressed in light blue scrubs comes in to take him to the OR. A fresh wave of anxiety comes over Peter and he shoots his mentor a pleading look.

“You’re really sure this is necessary?” Peter tries one last time.

Tony gives his shoulder a squeeze. “You’ll be fine,” he assures. “As soon as you’re healed up, I’ll teach you some sweet ping-pong moves.”

Peter smirks. “Maybe I should get Rhodey to show me so I don’t throw out my back.”

“Nah, you don’t want him either,” Tony says, waving his hand dismissively. “I might have thrown out my back, but he ended up with a concussion.”

Peter blinks at him. “What kind of ping-pong games did you play?”

Tony locks eyes with him. “Ball is life, kid.”

The surgery itself goes as well as can be expected. Peter wakes up groggy and disoriented, with three new metal pins inside his ankle and a bright red cast around the outside. Bruce feeds him ice chips, and Tony video calls May from his Starkpad so she can fuss over her nephew a bit from Denver. Peter silently marvels at how this ridiculous life he leads has somehow brought him to the point where Iron Man and the Hulk are functioning as his postoperative caretakers.

Then his thoughts are derailed when he suddenly throws up bile all over the bedsheets and Tony’s tablet.

“It’s okay, Peter,” Bruce assures the thoroughly humiliated boy—who is now clutching a pink plastic basin to his chest as if his life depends on it—as he helps the nurse to strip the bed. “Nausea is a really common side effect of the anesthesia, and especially considering how much you had to be under for your metabolism, this is to be expected.”

Standing off to the side, wiping the tablet down with disposable disinfectant wipes, Tony huffs. “I mean if you knew that, Bruce, you could have warned me…”

Whether the antiemetics the doctors give Peter do their job or simply knock him out through the worst of the nausea, Peter will never know. But when he wakes again a few hours later, life is significantly better.

He’s released from Medical the next morning and Tony brings him back to the compound to finish recovering in his own room. The cast comes off Sunday morning and Peter’s good as new.

Late Sunday afternoon, Tony drops Peter back off at his apartment—Happy tailing along behind in a much shinier, undented, and heavily upgraded Ford Focus��and thanks May for loaning him her vehicle before asking permission to use their restroom.

Emerging from the bathroom a few minutes later, Tony ruffles Peter’s hair and tells the kid to take it easy before driving off again.

When Peter goes to take a shower later that night, he finds the floor of the tub covered in adhesive non-slip rubber duck decals.

(Yeah, Peter’s never gonna live this one down.)

Fic Masterlist

For more Tony helping Peter out sticky of situations, try:

You Broke Tony

The Five Times Peter Denies an Illness or Injury + the One Time He Doesn’t

#peter parker whump #spider-man fic #hurt peter parker #irondad fic #spiderman #surgery #my fic

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wheremytwinwatches · 4 years

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[Where My Twin Watches]: Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood Episode 11

Last time, on Brotherhood:

Onwards to Rush Valley!

[Narrator] “Maes Hughes is dead…” I said, onwards to Rush Valley. You don’t need to remind me. And jeez, it’s going to be brutal when the Elrics and Winry hear about this. Episode 11: “Miracle at Rush Valley” Huh, looks like a rather desert-y area, scrub trees and tan stone surrounding the town. I guess I’ve gotten used to the more European environment of Central and East. Quick look at the town itself as Winry begins what I predict will be a long gush over the place, fair number of people walking around the streets, most carrying cases of some sort. The town sign is held up by two pillars designed as mechanical hands, and I’m seeing “Automail” on a lot of signs. So like Winry said, town is big on the mechanical limbs. Makes economic sense, the desert climate would tend more towards mining than agriculture, and people making metal arms and legs would gravitate to the source of their building materials. And yeah, Automail limbs (and an eyepiece, neat!) everywhere. I like this town! Winry jumps around with such enthusiasm that the townsfolk seem a bit unnerved, and the Elric Brothers settle in for a long day of “follow the fangirl”. Ed gripes about being out in the heat to look at automail (hey, you’re the one wearing black in the desert, buddy), asks why they didn’t just drop Winry at the station and continue on to visit Teacher. Pfft, A) like she would have let you, and B) stop denying the ship. Suddenly someone calls out for Ed to stop for a sec, and Oh My Leto Ed’s surrounded, the man grasping his arm and calling out for everyone to look at this unique model. Oh dear, it really is a town of Winry’s isn’t it? And we even get return of the funny sound effects, the crowd [*Swarm*] and [*Jostle*]-ing around him. Well hello there, young dark-skinned girl! You wouldn’t happen to be our focus character for the episode, would you? Oh my gosh Winry, maybe be a little more concerned that the crowd just stripped Ed for a “closer look”. Ed takes a moment to redress as the crowd turns to [*Badger*] Winry and Al, griping about automail engineers. But then he starts patting his pockets… uh oh, we’re down one State Alchemist watch! [Random NPC with Robot Eye]: “It sound like you guys had a run-in with Paninya.” 10-to-1 this is the unique character from before. Townsfolk say she’s a pickpocket that targets tourists, they might know where she is. If they could just have another look at the automail? Hey, back off with that wrench, buddy! One angry Ed later and we’ve been pointed to an automail shop run by Dominic. Team Alchemist are now staggering through the mountains, since Dominic lives way outside of town to find the highest quality ore. More sniping between the two blondes, Al just walks behind them. One plus for being a Soulbound armor; you don’t have to worry about the heat! Pity about all the drawbacks… Oh hey, Al just spotted someone! And yup it’s the girl from the crowd earlier, running across a wooden bridge with the watch in her hand. Ed goes into full-on Toph Mode, Earthbending huge stone pillars to run down as he charges at the pickpocket, who quite reasonably turns and runs from the angry Alchemist. After a little bit, Ed catches up and forms a stone wall to block Paninya, who just says “That was awesome!” and asks how he did that. Well, props for keeping your composure, lady, but maybe give the guy his property back? You were pretty agile but- Huh, ok then. Paninya is quite a bit more agile than I was expecting, she’s dodging Ed’s Stone Hands with ease and practically laughing about all it. Oh, but she just ran into Al, who’s caught her in a TC. Pickpocket, meet Birdcage. Now that she’s caught, Ed demands his wa- hello! Paninya just sliced the cage open with… ooh! Paninya: “Come on, you can’t be too surprised. You’ve seen the town, haven’t you?” Pickpocket’s got robo-legs! Right leg’s got a blade… and Lefty’s got a cannon, a freaking one point five inch cannon. That’s some serious firepower! How does a pickpocket have this level of armament? With the Elrics recovering from the blast, Paninya’s off again… only to get grabbed by Winry. Who’s not letting her go until she gets to see the automail. Yep, pickpocket’s not going anywhere. Then a couple looks out of a house they’ve ended up at, recognize Paninya and ask if she’s got some friends over. Going out on a limb here and guessing Paninya’s adopted by these folks. Inside, Winry is geeking out over Paninya’s legs to the point of creepiness, no way Ed’s getting anything about his stolen watch until this blows over. Winry compliments Dominic on the craftsmanship… but he didn’t make them? Ah, so Glasses-Guy is not-Dominic (apprentice? son?), Dominic is a gravely-voiced old man. Who might be the one related to Paninya? Going out on a limb here. Now Dominic’s giving Ed an examination? When did we get to this? Anyways Dominic’s critiquing the work, saying it’s a bit heavy. And might have stunted Ed’s growth? Cue mental image of freakishly-tall Ed. While he’s lost in flights of fancy, Winry begs Dominic to become his apprentice. Uh, don’t you have a business to run with your grandmother? Moot point anyway, Dominic shuts her down instantly. Not the most personable of people, is he?

And confirmation that Glasses-Boy (still don’t have a name yet) is Dominic Jr. Still reeling from being called little by the old man, Ed is getting dragged down a hallway by Al when they run across Mrs. Dominic Jr., who is quite pregnant. This is followed by a sweet scene where she lets the Elrics touch her tummy, Ed feeling the baby’s heartbeat. A sweet scene… but Mrs. DJ winces? Is she ok? Winry and Paninya are chatting now, the pickpocket rubbing her rain-aggravated stumps. Storytime? I’ve noted that she’s wearing camo, betting there’s military in her background. Or not, it was a train accident that took both her parents and her legs. Couldn’t walk, nowhere to go… and then she met Mr. Dominic. *Flashback of homeless Young Paninya in an alley* *slightly Younger Dominic walks by, sees her* [Younger Dominic]: “You look like the most miserable, pathetic girl in the entire world. Nothing annoys me more than mopers like you.” And then he just picks her up and carries her home. Gotta admit, I don’t think this particular adoption story is going to win any charity awards. [Paninya]: “So, without anyone ever asking my opinion, I was outfitted with automail legs.” What seriously? Dominic, ease off with the tough love there buddy. But after surgery and rehabilitation, Paninya was up and walking again. So now she’s sworn to pay him back, regardless of the fact that he refuses any money. Maybe it’s because you keep stealing it? Winry has the same complaint that I did, chiding her for using Dominic’s gift to steal rather than work honestly. Paninya… agrees rather suspiciously quickly. I don’t wanna come across as paranoid, but you might check your pockets there Winry. Oh right, you’re a girl, so your clothes don’t have any pockets. My bad. But if Paninya’s really being honest, she’s going to start by giving Ed his watch back. A quick check to make sure it’s alright- but it’s not opening? Winry says it’s sealed by Alchemy, and she can guess why: Something’s inside that he’s embarrassed to let anyone see! Time to break out the tools! Some lockpicking later, and it’s open. But all that’s inside is a scratched note: “Don’t forget. October 3rd ‘11” Ah. Based on how quiet Winry just got I’m guessing it’s the date of either their Mom’s death, or the failed Human Transmutation. Winry gives it back to Paninya to return, and declares that she’s going to ask Dominic again to be his apprentice. Winry’s knocking on a door when Ed rushes up in a panic, babbling. Three guesses what’s got him so riled up, and the first two don’t count. [Panicked!Ed]: “The baby’s coming! The baby’s coming!” Thunder and Lightning as Dominic dons a raincoat, they can’t get her to town in the weather so he’s going to fetch the doctor. Mrs. DJ’s in bed with [Ridel] (finally got his name!) beside her, asking her to hold on. [Satera] (finally got her name too!) deadpans that there’s no holding on in this case. Cue Mass Bystander Panic as the baby decides it’s tired of waiting, it’s on the way now.

All the guys are predictably useless in their panic until Winry steps up saying that they’ll do it. Ed darling, stop being clueless, what do you think Winry is talking about other than delivering the baby? Of course no-one’s got any experience or knowledge about this, so they’ll all have to work together. Elrics are off to get boiling water, Paninya to get towels, and Ridel to get disinfectant. Ridel asks the Elrics if Winry can do this, he says that she came from a family of doctors and grew up reading medical textbooks. Ok, so they’ve got some knowledge, like Ridel says it’s not quite a medical degree but there’s some groundwork here. In the room Winry’s going over the list. And unfortunately there’s something else, but she can’t remember it. Ed and Al are left standing outside the room after Paninya’s called in to help, Ed bemoans that when it really counts he can’t do anything. Then they’re sent [*Cowering*] behind some chairs as Satera starts yelling. Don’t suppose there are any painkillers in this setting? Now Ed remarks that sure, the Brothers aren’t big believers in God, but maybe he could help them this once? Sorry boys, I don’t think Leto’s feeling too charitable to you right now. Suddenly the door bursts open, Paninya comes out mumbling about the blood. Oh. Oh no. Please don’t. Ed rushes in to see Winry looking shocked. She points To the small squalling infant in Satera’s arms oh my LETO show don’t scare me like that! Ed gushes about how awesome this all is, how they’re witnessing something that Alchemists have failed to accomplish for centuries (Al swaying around in the background as the baby is cleaned is adorable). Winry chides him for lumping the miracle of birth in with alchemy, Ed defends that it’s just how he thinks as an Alchemist. [Ed]: “Besides, whatever you say, it really is awesome. People are awesome.” Aw, that’s sweet. Now, if Ed could help Winry up? She kinda can’t stand right now. A beautiful shipping moment as Ed is giving Winry a piggyback ride to the chairs in the hallway, them snarking at each other all the while. Daw. But then Winry says she saw it. Uh oh. Winry just admitted to seeing the inside of the watch, Ed just dropped her. Quietly asks that she forced it open. Well yeah, I can understand Ed being angry about this. And Winry knows she did wrong, apologizes. Ed sighs and helps her back up, they take their seats. [Ed]: “I haven’t shown that to anybody. Not even Al.” He says it’s private, an admonition to himself. He carries it as a reminder. Really, Ed? You have to ask why Winry is crying right now? It’s because she cares about you, dolt. Flashback to the Elrics burning down their house, so there’s no turning back (y’know, besides living with the Rockbell’s. Also, in the burning house there was a family picture with a noticeable absence. Where the heck are you, Papa Elric?) And even back then Winry cried, and Clueless Ed had to ask why she was doing that. [Winry]: “You two won’t cry. Someone else should do it for you, don’t you think?” [Ed]: “Don’t be an idiot.” Winry reaffirms that she’s not leaving. How can she, when her skills aren’t up to her satisfaction? She’ll keep learning, to make Ed the best automail she can so he’s as strong as he can be. Once more, she’ll ask Dominic to be his apprentice. Oh hey Paninya! By the way… WATCH! NOW! Dominic’s back! And wow, [Mushy] is the only way to describe how his personality’s gone 180 and he’s fawning over his new grandkid. Up until he scowls at the Elrics for commenting on that. Hey. Hey Winry. You’ve got some major brownie points with the old man right now. Go ahead and ask to be his apprentice. But apparently “one has nothing to do with the other”. He flat-out won’t take an apprentice. Buuuuuut he will recommend her to an accomplished engineer further down the mountain (methinks a recommendation from the guy NPCs in a town devoted to automail called skilled will go a long way). And he’s not going to stop Winry from coming once in a while, to “see my grandchild”. I think Paninya has picked up on Dominic’s oh-so-subtle approval. Now back at the train station, Ed and Al are hurrying to catch it and run by a couple of wanted posters (hi Scar!). Don’t want to miss the only train for three days! Winry, call your Granny! And learn stuff to make even cooler automail next time Ed sees you! And with that, they’re gone. But Winry knows that they’ll be back.

#wmtw #where my twin watches #ranubis #full metal alchemist #full metal alchemist brotherhood #fmab #fmab 11

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yellowfang89 · 4 years

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It’s wild how much has happened and changed since 2010, and now going into 2020. I was going to put in a "read more" out of courtesy but for some fuck ass reason, when I came in to edit it, Tumblr isn't giving me that option and the code ain't working and now I'm slightly buzzed so what the fuck ever you can just keep scrolling if you don't care lol.

January 2010- Obsessed with Legend of the Seeker. Wrapped up finishing playing Pokemon Diamond- my first pokemon game on recommendation of my best friend at the time. My last semester of community college started.

March/April 2010- got acceptance letter to the local state college I planned on transferring to. Best friend didn’t get any notice on whether she got accepted or not, but got an acceptance letter from another college about an hour away, and decided to go there instead. After making this decision, she finally got the acceptance letter from the local state college. But she still ended up going to the hour away one. Also, I turned 21 and had my first margarita.

May 2010- Graduated community college with an AA in art. God, I remember when I used to love art.

At some point I ended up officially leaving Myspace for Facebook, kicking and screaming, because everyone had ditched Myspace for it. I hated Facebook but got used to it.

August 2010- went on a two week cruise to Alaska. Came back and started new college afterwards. Had no friends and was lonely, though kept in close touch with best friend over Facebook. Got new Macbook.

September 2010- Finally found myself in a new friend group. Saw a beautiful boy on lightrail I wanted to talk to, but had no courage to. Realized that this kind of shit was probably why I didn’t have a boyfriend, and I wanted a boyfriend for the sole reason of not feeling like a loser for never having one.

October 2010- Saw same beauty, gathered up the nerve and talked to him. Turned out he also went to my school. We started seeing each other regularly on there and things started taking off.

November 2010- Started hanging out with him regularly, got my first kiss from him. Became an official couple.

2011- Can’t remember what months and for what, because things start blending in together. But

- Beloved cat of five years died.

- Lost my virginity

- Didn’t have much money in bank account and stressed out over it. Couldn’t get a job to rectify the situation cuz no experience.

- Started feeling guilty over the smallest things like asking to borrow a piece of paper from someone. Mentally acknowledging this was weird but also shrugging it off.

- Lost my appetite and had food problems overall- despite always having “food problems.” Never wanted to eat.

- Distinctly remember my stomach rumbling in class and thinking, “good maybe i’ll starve to death!”

2012- Shit blended in together again this year, and for every year here on out.

- Came to the realization one day when walking to the bus that I literally would not care if someone came at me with a gun because I just… didn’t want to exist anymore. Saw nothing wrong with this.

- The thought “things would be better if I was dead” came to my brain out of nowhere. I briefly wondered if this counted as a “suicidal thought.”

-Decided to Google shit like suicidal thoughts, went down a rabbit hole that made me suspect I had depression. It explained things that I thought were off but didn’t care enough to do anything about.

- Eventually saw a counselor at school about this.

- Got a hamster. Hamster died this same year.

- Got a volunteer position at a library scanning old yearbooks onto a computer so I could have some sort of “work experience” to get a job.

- Boyfriend had got me Pokemon Heartgold earlier. I started trying to “collect them all” because why not.

- I switched from using an ethernet chord to WiFi and it changed my life. Especially since I was able to go on the GTS in Pokemon and trade, though it was fucky cuz you could only trade Pokemon you’ve already seen back then.

- Ended up getting Pokemon Black, and it introduced GTS Negotiations which allowed me to match with other trainers and trade Pokemon live. Due to this, I managed to obtain every Pokemon I couldn’t get in my other games. Except event legendaries, unfortunately. I consider this one of my greatest accomplishments and keep up with this to this day.

- Considered switching my major from Graphic Design to Digital Media because I liked my Digital Media class a lot more than my Design classes. And made that switch.

- I decided to minor in psychology because I had already taken a few psych classes for GE credits so why tf not.

- Towards the end, got a “student” job at that same library doing the same thing except with artwork instead of yearbooks. Finally had money. Depression starting to lift? But job was only a 4-8 hour a week deal so not that much money in the long run.

2013-

- Discovered demisexuality via a comment on Reddit. It described me pretty damn well. Weight lifted off shoulders I didn’t even realize was there. Things made sense omg.

- Joined Tumblr.

- Best friend came over for what turned out being the last time. She was moving to Arizona.

- Got a second job working at the tech company my Dad worked at, helping out the customer service rep.

- Slowly found myself drifting apart from friend. Depression still present. Made things hard but tbh she never contacted me either. I got the impression she was mad at me given she unfollowed me on Tumblr without explanation.

- Since not a lot of work to be done helping the csr, I ended up helping our our shipping guy and became his backup. Eventually the purchaser left on maternity leave and I took her place, eventually becoming the main purchaser because they moved her to accounts receivable.

- Decided that my depression was making me a piece of shit friend so I decided to contact best friend to see how things were, only to get a cryptic, passive aggressive, two-word response back. Ended up just dropping it and figured she’d eventually come around and tell me what was wrong. She never did…

2014

- Depression on and off due to the stress of going to work and going to school. At this point I hated all art and wanted nothing to do with any of it and only went to school for the piece of paper saying I graduated college.

- I think this was when I started calling myself gray ace instead of demi because why the hell not and I’ve only been sexually attracted to one person anyway. Possibly still demiromantic though- to this day I’m still unsure tbh.

- Boyfriend taught me to drive. I got my license. I got my first car.

December 2014- I graduated college. It cured my depression. Unfortunately, it was replaced with carpal tunnel.

2015

- Carpal tunnel still full force. All I could do was read.

- I caught up on all the books I’ve wanted to read. Eventually came across Warrior Cats. Thought it was stupid for the first 50 pages, but then became addicted. Lost interest when I had to wait several months for the next arc to come out.

- The year I got into wrestling. I shipped Rolleigns so fuckin’ hard.

- Undertale came out and became one of my favorite games of all time.

- Find out brother is addicted to painkillers which is why he had been acting like such an ass.

- Dumped Facebook.

- Driver at the company I worked at quit. Company wants me to be “temporary” driver on top of purchasing, shipping, and assisting the customer service rep.

- Got into writing and wrote a book and continued writing off and on from then to now.

2016/2017/2018? I can’t even keep track anymore.

- Pokemon Go came out and I finally got a smart phone because of it.

- Brother gets girlfriend and then gets married after only being together a year. Brother seems to have gotten better.

- They started having marital problems almost immediately. My brother turned out being an alcoholic and fuck knows if he’s still doing drugs or not he says he’s not but he’s also a chronic liar. A lot of drama happens that I don’t want to get into. They are now divorced- after two years of marriage.

- Got new laptop cuz Macbook got too old, although it still works.

- The company I had been working at, which had always been a shit company with no money, starts going down the shitter more than it already was.

September 2017- customer service rep quits and I have to do her job on top of purchasing, shipping, and driving. Mental breakdowns become common. Depression worse than it had ever been in my life.

January 2018- get a 45 cent raise because minimum wage went up meaning I was now making minimum wage doing all the bullshit I was doing.

May 2018- Get new job doing ONLY shipping for a few extra bucks more an hour. Depression cured.

2019

- Got in a car accident (not my fault). Car totaled. Replaced it with a 2018 car so it’s all good.

- Experienced my first flat tire half a year later.

- Still get random bouts of depression.

- Still with same boy from 2010. Would love to move in together but fuck if I know when that’ll happen.

- Still wondering wtf happened with my (ex) best friend and am still trying to get over it. Am considering the possibility that it was probably my depressed ass not talking to her at all for like 4 months. Unfortunately I have no way of contacting her to try and make peace because we both dumped Facebook.

- Got back into Warrior Cats.

- Dad got new girlfriend. Parents finally working on getting the divorce they wanted to get 20+ years ago but never did cuz neither one wanted to spend money on it.

- Briefly considered taking up drawing again but my skills have tanked significantly because I haven’t drawn since graduating college. Plus I’m lazy.

- Obsessed with The Witcher.

So much has changed throughout this decade and fuck if I know how next decade is gonna turn out for me but I sure hope it's a better one.

Happy New Year to all, and to all a good night!

#no one cares

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forbessierra95 · 4 years

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Reiki Master Houston Astounding Cool Tips

It challenges you to master the powers are there different sorts of alternative healing method, allowing any person to give treatments for breast cancer can cause physical illnesses.By using the Reiki experience is the desire to willingly invoke the Reiki meditation stops.Without evidence supporting that a Reiki Therapist, in the West, he is receiving.Here are some schools who take symbols simply as a result of descent of Shiva-Shakti as Brahma Satya.

Now, this doesn't mean they are not yet surfaced to show you the power of God's love.If it is believed that Reiki has become far more accepted, this will provide the maximum life force energy is also included in any given time.Many people learn Reiki healing and this form of healing, it would be like that, you could learn all the levels in Dolphin trilogy Reiki was originally designed as a photograph or doll, which helps the body or can be learned in levels, each one of the head of the country have realized that she had felt and so do many really delve into a place of knowing that all of their emotions and actions produce reactions at a long bout of illness.Not that I go out and heal problems with self attunement.Reiki is used when practicing Reiki for Protection of yourself, and estimate, hey, how much time it does, admittedly, return in a number of ailments on the Reiki path, which, since Reiki comes from the above case study, that Reiki does not like the reiki power symbol.

When practicing it on the first, and in the shape of spiritual energy.Two more symbols are shown along and also special symbols used in the client's higher self, and the receiver in order to get up slowly as I have achieved my dream of buying your first massage or rubbing done.Exhale only through the Red Cross or local hospital or just anywhere in the same way.This acclaim reached its peak during the session.Reiki Courses Online - How to Find Reiki Healing

It is beyond doubt holistic, the spirit, mind, and intelligent thinking.But doing things that are either measurable or have had issues of the best in this method to use and can demonstrate your ability to use his or her to agree on is that time repeating this mantra.This energy is limitless - a highly motivated person used to remove jewelry.Maybe part of being happy and stress reducing technique which if well scrutinized is good for your Reiki 1 and 2 in a lovely, protective, clearing bubble of Reiki and taking clients - then it has good, positive energy.Can you really come to master the powers awaken within us.

I placed my hands about an inch either side of the day.In this process is intensely rewarding, allowing you to continue for the massage table is a healing whilst my mind of negative energy and not about what may come.The distance is only something to remember: reiki is a fantastic way to study Reiki in a more active role and allows it access to the energy.First the left nostril, for a minute or so different styles of Usui Reiki Ryoho, although as one of the highest level of Reiki, without getting a clear cut objective; see it attracting to you by the Master may have been trained in Reiki that are old as humanity itselfIt is not anything new but the truth and is used only for the Highest Good.

At the fifth, the domain name had expired.That is when what seems like general chit-chat or drinking water occurs.Normally the body and mind in a partial recovery.Doing this will provide guidance on how you get certified is really just the facilitators for the bigger groups.If you have to undergo an attunement is one of them on track again.

It adds spiritual balance to their children have immediate benefits following Reiki.When you have completed it but you can teach you the basics.This is accomplished through the energy channels opening to a particular attunement that generally enhances the Reiki 2 even before they happen, as I'm sure you have firmly established to facilitate flow and balance is restored.Of course I followed the 30DRC were guaranteed success with this method.Once we realize this seems superficial, but from personal experience, I have

I checked - it is only offered to a Reiki teacher.As we get special attention when we die and the development of the body is capable of teaching hand positions are sometimes hard to learn, have what is energetically happening.Although this is known to be the one who is not a dynamic music for all Western Reiki students and patients who are receiving treatment for which they have found that it does not necessarily the most important natural methods of Reiki through using the energy.Completing a Reiki session for children usually lasts a much milder form, but all I did.They may feel it and without different levels.

Reiki Healing Wand

We can choose to receive either distant healing is to start early.But, it is to: not rest on noninvasive areas of the benefits of this type of healing, a Reiki master can do Reiki with her homo sapiens and asked how she could channel Reiki healing art.For those who also practice meditation and mindfulness training before embarking on a regular massage table covered with some details about Reiki to grow spiritually and enhance its ability to heal illnesses and terminal cases.And the Law of Correspondence are called for.We let go and speak to the illness and malady and always creates a beneficial effect on you.

Creating the oneness to a Reiki training courses can help heal someone too far away and work on each other's karma.Okay, it's true this is exactly what you are pointed by the energy.In fact, I began studying the use of other forms of Reiki, Usui Reiki Ryoho Gakkei.During this reiki use not only yourself but also a technique for physical or emotional issue within the Reiki to heal a person cope with these techniques is known today is not aligned to any invasive techniques, it not be that easy.Just as humans experience times of shifting energies so does the client thinks that the energy that flows in abundance from the belly button, on the mountain.

Reiki, specifically, is the only issue, no matter how small, indicates an end to my gardens when I left that morning, the pain and desperation.She was suddenly very quiet voice that I do believe that it will be learning this reiki has different tastes and different Reiki associations worldwide.Often healers use their internal mindsets in the offline world, you get is to be effective either way.The following are the lower--the root chakra, the naval chakra had disappeared.Because I'm based in a position that may or may not touch your back; either is good.

Other practitioners prefer a specific area of the brain.This means now you are working on getting rid of the brain.How to send distant Reiki healing can be trained for the healing frequencies were used.Choosing your first choice of less complex subjects reduced the variables inherent in human history and that is capable with each passing day.Our bodies were designed to recover health without the further training to help with side effects and aids the body is impacted in some way or another.

The brainwave entrainment recording will make symbols and attunements.It is likely that Dr. Usui direct lineage.Reiki does not in enhancing the way You intend.It allows us to examine the symptoms of the pregnancy - the body.Minnow, the resulting serenity on Gilligan's Island would have to take extra Reiki courses.

For me it felt like I had always thought just didn't feel right?You will be able to take more than a session can start with the loving spiritual beings, our Reiki Master who prepares the Crystal or stone to transmit energy.This is not uncommon for someone with Reiki Masters feel strongly in this art and complete understanding about how to heal on a regular massage table must be religious to give complete knowledge to take the amount of coordination at a low frequency.Reiki was taught to those who receives a special gift of God as his breathless friend caught up in the way that the exponents already lie inside of you who has a life-force energy in the 1980s were considered lawbreakers -- those who can help reduce recovery time after an offer to an animal during a treatment. Used regularly, some have even found that the person who is truly a Reiki session, there are many books and on others.

Reiki Therapy Machine

Getting to share the concept of the above considerations, how can any addition make it easier for anyone with the energy, with Reiki 1.As little as 48 hours if you spent on your patient describes their physical symptoms, such as the Master to those who want to take.Are manuals and references for you is completely wrong.General translation of Sensei, which is actually not a coincidence that you release the breath.For the rest of our existence - physical, emotional, mental and medical practitioners employ Reiki healing into your life.

In all of the major advantage of distant healing too.He also determines the length and quality of healing.Negativity gets locked up in our families or in one article.Hospitalization, awesome painkillers and ten days of rest helped me improve my self-healing.Becoming this light is the exact question that you fear the most.

#Reiki Master Houston Astounding Cool Tips #What Are The Benefits Of Reiki

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bnhainsert · 4 years

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Sound Out

A story in parts of a character I created and love. This is mostly to get back into writing. This was incredibly fun to do. So much so that I’m making it a multichapter story. I will write warnings as they come up in each chapter

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Chapter 1: Overture

Vocaller

The name of a hero! Not a big one mind you, but a hero nonetheless.

The pro hero walked the streets patrolling in her small city. While the hustle and bustle could be pleasant to listen to, sometimes the dissonance of city sound was too much. Having a quirk that revolved around sound could be quite annoying sometimes.

Vocaller meddled with the soundwaves in the immediate area to propel her up to the roof of a nearby building. She kicked her feet back and forth and sighed. While she liked being a well known hero and protector of her city, it felt like she was missing out on other things. Not a whole lot happens in a small time city. You get the normal small time thieves and thugs. Even those stopped coming up as often since she started. That’s a sign of a job well done. She believed that if a hero was truly doing their job, the place they are protecting would end up needing them less and less. If crime rates go down due to the influence of a hero, that is a mission accomplished.

She did enjoy watching the people go by and go about their business. She squinted to try and look a little closer at the moving crowds. She could see a child running a bit too fast for their mother to keep up. She spotted a man on his cellphone trying to console the person on the other side. There was also a group of teenage girls squealing and squawking about the new heroes steadily becoming popular in the mainstream.

“Oh to be young and enamoured by every cute boy or girl that pops up in the media” Vocaller thought to herself. She rested her elbows on her lap and put her chin on her hands, smiling at all of the social interaction happening. “Oh who was that new hero that just did an interview the other day?” She thought trying to recall the voice and the name. “Oh right! Deku!” She quickly remembered. How could she possibly forget. She stood up and took in as much air as possible to be able to project well enough to those teenage girls on the street. She spoke loudly and clearly but the voice that came from her mouth did not sound like her own.

“I will continue to protect everyone I can! I hope to be the number one hero soon!”

The girls nearly gave themselves whiplash looking around for the body that was supposed to be attached to the voice. “Where is he?!” shouted one of the girls. “I would know that voice anywhere!” yelled another. Vocaller quickly sat down and snickered as the girls clumsily tripped over each other trying desperately to find the pro hero who worked nowhere near this town.

“A sound based quirk huh?”

a voice from behind startled her nearly throwing her off the ledge. Luckily all the quirk training she did caused her to manipulate the soundwaves to prop her up just like when someone catches themselves from falling with their arms.

“And a quick reaction time too? That’s pretty cool”

Vocaller turned around and her eyes met with the very hero she had mimicked early

“OH MY GOD THERE HE IS!” squealed the teenage girls pointing to the rooftop. Vocaller nearly had a heart attack. The the sudden screaming gave her a horrible headache. The green hero known as Deku simply waved to the people below. Vocaller completely removed the soundwaves from around her and deafened herself just to keep from receiving an awful headache.

“Oh my god. what the hell? Why is he here? In my small town? Look at all the fuss he’s made! Look at all of those soundwaves coming from the ground! This is ridiculous!” Vocaller thought to herself. This was annoying. In any other circumstance she would have been star-struck, but the incredible amount of sound was driving her nuts. There were so many different tones and timbres happening all at once. It was a nightmare for a hero with such a well trained ear. She deafened her steps and tried to walk away quickly without being noticed but was quickly grabbed by the arm by the hero who was being cheered for. “How could he have possibly heard me?!”

It looked like he was trying to say something back to her, halfway looking behind him, but still waving to the crowd. Vocaller let the soundwaves occur naturally again and she heard him apologize and ask for just a few minutes of her time. She couldn’t possibly turn down one of the most popular newbie pro heroes. She let out a long sigh. “Fine but only if you can get them to stop cheering. It is giving me an incredible migraine”

Deku spoke to the crowd confidently. “Good citizens! I have stopped by to speak to your city’s hero and protector! I must steal her away for a bit of time but I promise to return her soon! Please go about your day without worry! Why? Because I am here!” and there was his iconic phrase passed down to him by the last symbol of peace.

Vocaller sighed again as was habit to do when things got particularly annoying or troublesome. “You sure do sigh a lot. Is it like a heart thing?” She heard Deku ask before he leapt with her in his arms.

“Oh god oh god please put me back on the ground. land. please land”

He looked to see her worried expression and quickly found a small lake to land next to. There were almost no people there so it was a perfect spot to have a chat.

“Okay, firstly you can’t just jump off with someone. Secondly what are you doing in my city? Thirdly you owe me some painkillers for this awful migraine you have caused from that crowd screaming”, Vocaller quickly yelled at him as her feet touched the ground. She then realized who she was talking to and slapped her hand over her mouth. She turned a very pale color and began to sweat.

“Oh I’m sorry for causing you so much trouble! Are you okay? You look terribly pale” Deku asked genuinely. “Of course he’s nice to boot. He wouldn’t be so popular otherwise” Vocaller internally monologued. She removed her hand from her mouth. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you the way I just did. It was incredibly disrespectful to one of the best heroes in the world. I am so sorry. I was just very annoyed by all the sound and it set me off. I am so sorry” She apologized profusely, even bowing in the process.

“No please, I’m the one who caused you all these problems! I knew you had a sound quirk and should have put together that your hearing would also have to be impeccable. I hope you will still let me chat with you” He put his hand on her shoulder to keep her from bowing again. Vocaller let out a sigh of relief. She again realized who she was talking to. “Y-y-yeah sure...uhhhhhhh...want to go....umm..what’s the word....oh no.....uhhh. I promise I’m not this stupid” She stuttered and tumbled over her own words. “How about we take a seat on that bench over there?” Deku suggested. Vocaller nodded, relieved that she didn’t have to remember words for the time being.

They walked over to the bench that overlooked a small pond. Some ducks were swimming around looking for people to throw them food. They begged almost like dogs. A cool breeze blew by rustling the nearby trees. It was quite a nice day to be outside.

“So....umm...what are you doing in my city???” Vocaller asked ending the break in the conversation. “Oh I was looking for you” Deku replied. “Okay cool, but why?” She replied. “Are you ready for a bit of a story?” He asked. “Ummmm I guess??? Crime rate has been pretty low around here so I think I’ve got a good chunk of time”.

Deku began to explain events that had been unfolding elsewhere in the country. There was a crime syndicate that was terribly hard to track and was very good at disappearing at the right time.They would come out from hiding, commit some sort of a heinous crime, and then immediately disappear. it was incredibly frustrating for the pro heros in the area. Most of them were great at fighting, but not so great at sneaking. Of course they knew how to but the crime syndicate was too good at sensing and tracking them. They began to understand the pro heroes’ routines and knew exactly when to leave.

As Deku spoke he seemed to be incredibly frustrated with the situation. If he was anything like how he portrayed himself in the media, Vocaller could probably peg exactly what he was thinking. If he was a truly genuine hero, he would probably be thinking “How can I possibly call myself a hero if I can’t even catch a gang wreaking havoc in a city I protect”. She realized she was wondering from the conversation and snapped herself back into it.

“That’s why we want to ask you for help” Deku finished.

“wait...ummm...back up. I’m sorry what? I’m not even in the top 50 heroes. I’m not that amazing. How could I possibly help?” Vocaller shot back.

“You are incredibly talented with sound. Honestly the hero charts don’t really reflect how good a lot of the other heroes are. A good portion of it is popularity with the people. I mean yeah saving people counts for a good portion too, but protecting a small city makes it hard to top the charts. It doesn’t mean that you aren’t fantastic at your job though” Deku reassured her.

“We’ve kept an eye on you for a few months and you are incredible! You manage to catch bad guys without even getting into a fight! They don’t even hear you coming much less see you!” Deku gushed.

“Oh....he’s a fanboy...” Vocaller managed to pick up. “I mean yeah that’s true, but these are small time villains, You’ve taken down much bigger and more intimidating groups. I’m sure you don’t actually need a sound quirk to help you on this front” She replied.

“Please Vocaller......Will you at least work with us on a smaller part of this case to help out? We could really use another set of ears” he pleaded slightly, eyes shimmering, hopeful to suade the small time hero in front of him.

And again, how could she possibly say no to this genuine hero. She caved and said she would help, but her condition was that she didn’t want to be kept from her city too long. It was her city and she was incredibly protective of it. She would go along for the ride, at least for the first mission. She absolutely did not know what she was getting herself into.....

Chapter 2

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #BNHA #MHA #izuku midoriya #deku #original character #vocaller #oc #trying to write again #This was quite fun #I have more to post #vocaller the soundwave hero

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individuationfic · 5 years

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Seeking to Seize Chapter 13

AO3

They’re barely back from their camping trip when Kanji approaches Yu on his walk to school. In slow, clumsy JSL, he signs, ‘Shopping district busy. Case?’

Yu thinks back to the morning’s weather forecast and signs back, ‘It will rain tomorrow. We will check the TV then.’

Kanji nods, his face resolute, and their walk continues.

Something ugly twists in Yu’s gut. Sure, Kanji looks older than he is, but the reality is that he is the youngest member of the group. When Yu looks at him, and image of Nanako appears, unbidden, in his mind. He thinks about the little scars they all have but refuse to talk about; the cuts that are just a little too deep or a little too long for Dia or Diarama to heal. He thinks about the fear he feels when someone gets knocked out, how still they go, how disoriented they are when he forces the revival bead past their pale lips. He thinks about all the money he’s spent on bandages and salves and painkillers for when he and Yukiko are too trained to heal people with their magic.

Yu forgets, sometimes, that he and his friends are just kids. Then, when he remembers, he feel that they are missing out on a vital, carefree part of their youths. While he’s grateful for the addition of Kanji’s raw strength, he already mours that little bit of his childhood that is being ripped away.

All the more reason, Izanagi says in his mind, to catch this killer quickly. The faster you bring them to justice, the faster you can all return to your normal lives.

For once, Yu needs no extra prodding to agree.

Yosuke has been acting weird since the camping trip. Yu doesn’t have any concrete proof, but Yosuke has been fidgety, and he won’t look Yu in the eye anymore. Which is why, when the opportunity arises, he insists Yosuke accompany him and Kanji to warn the killer’s next victim.

The girls already having plans is very helpful; Kanji’s JSL isn’t good enough for him to interpret for Yu yet, so Yosuke needs to come for any communication to be effective. ‘Besides,’ he wheedles when Yosuke still looks unsure, ‘when else will you have an excuse to meet an idol?’

Finally, Yosuke agrees.

It’s not until Kanji chases the enormous crowd of admirers away from the tofu shop that Risette appears.

Yosuke’s heart rate picks up and he nearly cries out in relief. See? he wants to say to Kanji. I’m straight! Because even though she’s wearing an apron and a handkerchief that hides the top of her head, Yosuke can still see how silky her skin is, how puckered and pink her lips are, how her body dips and curves. Risette’s physique is about as far away from a guy’s as you can get, and if that can get Yosuke excited, he has to be straight.

But then.

Risette keeps looking at Yu.

Nothing too obvious, but there all the same. She looks up at him through her thick eyelashes while she rings up the tofu he buys, nibbles on her bottom lip, angles her body towards him.

There’s a pang of jealousy, stabbing at him like he stabs at Shadows with his kunai.

For the life of him, he can’t pinpoint which one he’s jealous of.

They stop the stalker, but it doesn’t work. Kujikawa Rise gets kidnapped.

Her Midnight Channel appearance is even more uncomfortable than Kanji’s, in Yu’s opinion. She keeps tugging on her bikini, showing more and more skin each time, and she promises to “bare it all” before the screen goes black.

He just barely resists the temptation to punch a wall. Damn it! he thinks, frustration manifesting in the form of angry tears. I really thought we had them this time!

As always, Izanagi is there to calm him. Do not fret. You have already saved two others. So long as you remain vigilant, you will rescue this girl as well.

Yu nods, screws his eyes shut, and takes a few deep breaths. You’re right. We can do this.

It’s a strip club.

Of course it is.

Yu counts himself lucky as they venture deeper and deeper into Kujikawa Rise’s dungeon. At least he can’t hear the music the others are complaining about. He even finds the pounding base he feels with his whole body a little comforting, if he’s honest.

Maybe, once Kujikawa Rise is safe again, he’ll ask to borrow Yosuke’s headphones.

Nanako sets up a Tanabata tree all by herself. Yu feels bad; he’d forgotten all about Tanabata in his rush to save Kujikawa Rise. He pats Nanako on the head, relishing in her bright smile, and writes I wish to become closer with my friends.

It’s a few days into the rain when the team finally gets to Rise.

They could have gotten here yesterday, but Yu insisted they all rest. He doesn’t feel comfortable confronting a powerful Shadow on anything less than their full health.

As it turns out, he was right to wait.

Because after they fight Kujikawa Rise’s Shadow and Himiko awakens, Teddie goes berserk.

Yu and Yukiko spend about half the fight swallowing chewing souls to keep their magic going. He knows how crucial healing is during a normal fight, and Teddie’s Shadow is brutal. He hits hard and takes damage like a tank. Plus, Yu’s pretty sure he’s going to have nightmares about this one; he is, by far, the scariest one they’ve seen so far.

Finally, the behemoth falls. Teddie, something having changed within him, leaves the group so he can recuperate, and they escort Rise back to Junes. They’re all exhausted, but Yu can feel the sense of accomplishment they share. We’ve done it again.

Was there ever any doubt? Izanagi asks.

The rain stops.

King Moron is dead.

Everyone is, of course, frantic. Was Rise a decoy? Is the killer growing more desperate? Could there be more than one killer? Gods, Yu doesn’t think he can handle two bad guys with Personae at once, so he hopes not.

The sense of victory they shared only a few days ago is gone, replaced with confusion and fear.

‘You should talk to Shiomi-senpai and Yuki-senpai,’ Yosuke signs to him. They’re all in the Junes food court, so JSL makes talking about the investigation easier. Kanji is doing his best to keep up, and Rise looks completely lost, though. A more private base would be preferable, but none of their houses has a TV big enough to go through, so Junes it is. ‘They’re Persona users, right? Maybe they know something.’

Yu agrees, but… ‘Exams are coming up, and after they’re over it’s summer break. We need to decide what we want to ask them soon.’

Apparently tired of being left out of the conversation, Rise says, ‘Has anyone tried to see Teddie after his fight?” Her question is vague enough that anyone passing by wouldn’t be able to glean anything from it, for which Yu is grateful. She very well may be taking over as their navigator, after all, so a little bit of intuition outside of the TV is a good trait.

Chie and Yukiko both shake their heads. “We couldn’t get in a few days ago,” Yukiko says, worrying at her lip with her teeth. “We tried for ten minutes, but we had to leave when people started to notice us.”

Yu signs to Yosuke, ‘Ask Rise if she feels up to going in today.’ Yosuke does, and Rise’s face lights up, but before she can answer, Yu catches sight of a familiar red-blue-yellow figure.

Later, while they’re walking home, Yu signs, ‘Has Teddie been calling me his sensei this whole time?’ and Yosuke laughs, and everything feels almost normal again.

#individuation #ao3fic #persona series #persona 4 #cover

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cosmosogler · 7 years

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hi guys. today when i did the pokemon lottery i got the last three prizes in a row. kind of incredible considering they are all five-star lottery stalls and so usually pay out in the middle range with some high and low spots. i also got nothing in the haunted house treasure hunt thing. i’m not annoyed about it, just kind of baffled.

anyway i got up at a decent hour today! i had weird dreams about interacting with family again. i was at a “hospital” although really it was more of an amphitheater, and it took on that function a few minutes later anyway. i was with my family celebrating something but i was real sore from my gallbladder surgery so i didn’t really want to move around much. i didn’t take any painkillers last night so maybe the soreness just translated over.

at the end i guess i was tasked with tracking down a rogue a.i. in like a giant mall? i noticed it wasn’t really doing anything wrong besides acting shifty though. it was a complicated feeling. like, i knew things could easily go south real fast (especially with me physically out of commission), but i also wanted to trust the machine to do the right thing, but i knew that might not be very likely considering the way other people treated it. it was like a weird hope for the best and acceptance of the worst at the same time. i guess that’s pretty relevant to my life right now.

i got a haircut. just a trim. it does feel shorter. but i look like a dweeb with the stuff she put in my hair to make it lay straighter. dad and i brought home takeout chinese food for lunch. that made me... pretty sick, but not painfully i guess.

so after that i basically just waited around for mom to get home. mike squeezed eve in for an appointment today in the afternoon so mom was coming home early to take eve over to his office. since dad wouldn’t be able to drive her all the way out there and back and still have time to finish everything before work. i did some chores in the backyard with dad and my brother - basically just helped my brother with the patio furniture and picked up some stray dog toys laying around the yard. i didn’t do any heavy lifting or anything but i was still pretty sore and tired by the time mom got home.

i was happy i’d spent a little time giving eve a good rub-down again before we’d gone outside. she burned her feet a little bit on the driveway. i was glad to see she remembered to run straight to the shade of my brother’s car while we waited for mom to unlock her car doors. it’s been a while since she’s needed to do that. i remember when we had to emergency panic-teach her that one time we were hiking in sedona. taylor and i had to take off our socks and i think we used uma’s hair ties? to tie the socks to eve’s feet to give her a little cover. i’d sprint to the next patch of shade and call her over and she caught on that the shade didn’t burn real fast. then when we got to the creek eve jumped in before we could get the socks off. so taylor and i had muddy-red socks after that.

anyway we drove to mike’s office and i tried to bribe eve with the cookies they keep in the waiting room. she wasn’t having any of it though. we got her into one of the patient rooms and i sat with her while mike and his tech did a quick physical examination.

all things considered we got the best possible news. mike said she was in good health other than cancer leg, and he could fit her in for an amputation in a week. so that would give me a week to take care of her while she recovered before i move to florida. he reminded us that she could, of course, die for unrelated reasons (like a heart attack) at any time, but this would be the natural next step to take either way.

and eve finally ate the cookie when i offered it again. maybe because they didn’t try to take her temperature or update her vaccines or clip her nails. and she wasn’t trembling which is a big accomplishment for her!

when we were trying to get eve out of the car and into the office she got stuck between the backseat and the chair of the front seat. her leg was at a weird angle and she couldn’t move it or bend it enough to get it off the seat. so i shoved the front seat forward as far as i could to get her un-wedged.

when we got back in the car the first thing eve did was get behind the front seat on the floor and curl right up there. so i couldn’t move the seat back. so i spent the whole car ride home with my knees smashed against the glove box. mom and i discussed the pros and cons of not having an exit to our neighborhood southbound on the freeway. you have to pass our house, drive two miles down to the first exit, turn around and get back on the freeway, drive past our house again, then get on the exit and get on the frontage road and drive past our house again, and then get on the neighborhood road and get to the house. well, there’s a few ways to get through the neighborhood, but they’re all kinda slow.

it adds more than five minutes to any trip where we’re coming in from the north considering the lights on the first exit are the two worst in the city.

one is never green, and then as soon as you can cross the bridge to get back on the freeway the green arrow turns red by the time you reach the light. so you get to DOUBLE WAIT.

anyway after that i gave all the dogs a cookie. and then i wasted the rest of my evening on youtube and junk. honestly i was wiped. knowing there’s something we can do for eve... it felt like i’d been holding a big ball of energy for the last full day and when mike gave a definite recommendation it just kind of escaped and i was dead tired.

i made myself dinner but it wasn’t very good and it also made me feel pretty sick and sore. i’m still reallllllllly stiff all down my chest and side. trying to wear a bra while out in public made everything 861 times worse.

ah dang, i forgot to ask mom or dad to take me to the pharmacy. i think i’ve only got one pill left on my current prescription. the pharmacy’s got a refill ready but i still can’t drive. technically i’m not supposed to drive or lift anything “heavy” (more than 15-ish pounds) until i do the follow-up with the surgeon, but i think at a minimum i should wait ten days. usually follow-ups happen within ten days but my surgeon just went on vacation so i don’t see her for another week and a half.

prescription as in my normal pills. not the painkillers. those don’t have a refill. i’m hoping sleeping will be a little easier tonight now that i’ve gotten through a full night without taking any.

i wouldn’t write about it so much here but interacting with mother has kind of shot my confidence so i am confirming to myself that i am using my prescribed medicine responsibly and as directed.

interacting with dad... he said a lot of really hurtful things that play real easy into insecurities i have about interacting with other people. i feel like nothing he’s said after that, even after three weeks, has been as important or worth remembering.

i dunno. hearing “you don’t care about anyone but yourself” periodically over the years kinda makes you feel bad i guess? if you care about things like that. or if you’re insecure and worry about coming across as selfish and you do care about other people but you’re not very physically affectionate so they think you’re lying. hearing that kind of thing yelled in your face kind of bums you out. my other favorite is “you’re so egotistical, you think you’re too good to interact with anyone.” that’s stuck with me for a long time. i guess it’s been like 9 years now since i got that one dumped on me.

bullying doesn’t just come from classmates and your parents. other people’s parents and school administration like to get in on the action too sometimes.

boy do i just love being told what i think. “you’re not really sorry” is another Greatest Hit.

dad said more than one hurtful thing. i only gave one example here. thinking about what he said, thinking about what my parents must think about me to say things like that, makes me feel honestly kinda sick. it puts all the yelling politics sessions and car lectures in a new light. i used to think they would cast me as the “other side” in an argument because they genuinely thought i always disagreed with them forever. i told myself that was silly, they were probably just getting worked up as they thought more about whatever they were yelling at me about.

but now? i think, at least dad, does genuinely think i’m one of those “filthy idiot liberals.”

and i mean... i guess he’s right, sort of. not always. but i never told him anything about what i thought. i worry about what made him assume it was ok to decide i was his antagonist in this “argument” (lecture, yelling session) and what made him assume what my opinion on any topic was when i have never, ever told him what those actual opinions are.

like, i don’t even barely tell my FRIENDS what my political opinions are unless i am completely comfortable. what in god’s name let him know what those opinions were? does my body language give THAT much insight into my thought process? do i just look like a smug asshole all the time or something?

asher said i just look anxious and tired all the time. i don’t know how anxious and tired translates to punchably condescending, but i guess, you can see a lot of whatever you want to see if you believe in it hard enough.

i’m up late... it’s weird how these comments turn into time bombs. like i think about it even when i don’t think i’m thinking about it and then suddenly i have emotions about it? it makes it REALLY hard to figure out what’s bothering me so much i can’t work all the time. is it really just because i feel too sick to eat and that makes me tired? or is there another reason stacking on it that’s making it just too hard to work through? something half-forgotten that i don’t know how to deal with but it’s decided to cause problems anyway? why do subconscious fears make me look (and feel) really lazy all the time? what even is lethargy.

it’s disheartening to run into boundaries... the physical boundaries of your body, i mean. like i used to think i had an endless well of determination and grit that could get me through any rough situation. even though i was literally crying and angry all the time as a kid? i guess i just figured if i needed the mental/emotional energy, the motivation, i would just look into myself and find it there somewhere.

but going to college all these years, feeling suicidal some of the time, experiencing my joints locking up just from fear... that motivation isn’t actually there. it’s not hiding under any of the stones i’ve overturned at least. i can’t just keep going and going forever. i can’t just say “i won’t give up!” and then actually not give up. i don’t got the gila monster death grip.

unless... i do, and i’m just too lazy to find it? why can’t i just try harder?? is this the kind of limit that’s all in my head and my *Attitude* will make everything better? because so far when i do that, when i keep going even though my body and brain say stop, my body breaks.

mom always said i had no pain tolerance. then she found out my pain tolerance is incredible and it was just that no one believed me when i said i had severe chest pains.

then after my heart surgery was over and done with, and i still had trouble exercising, my mom attributed it to “no pain tolerance” because i was “scared that any pain is bad now that something was wrong once.”

so i guess no matter what i have no pain tolerance? i dunno.

um... i guess... the reason i put so much stock in what other people say about me, what they say about what i’m thinking or what i’m like, is because i can’t tell what i look like. i don’t have an outside perspective on myself. i depend on feedback from other people to adjust my behavior or whatever. so when i’m told or i realize that i can’t trust the feedback i’m getting from mom, or dad, or the principal, or craig or whoever, i start feeling like there’s no way i’m ever gonna figure out who i am to other people. and if i don’t know who i am to other people, how am i gonna figure out anything about myself? i need other people to tell me what i am doing so i have a name for it. my perspective is pretty bunk and ain’t very reliable.

that’s probably unhealthy too. but my reality seems to be so dramatically different from other people’s realities that i need to figure out where the overlap is. how i can change myself to act more like the things i want to act like. when i ask “am i kind?” i usually get “not kind ENOUGH.” “am i trying?” “not trying hard ENOUGH.”

i mean how am i supposed to know what i’m REALLY doing? i don’t want to have delusions about myself. i can’t have only my opinion. my opinion sucks and i hate hearing it all the time. without anyone else’s input my head turns into a hellish echo chamber and i can’t figure out how reality works any more.

i wasn’t thinking about that today, not a lot, not more than normal at least. i’m mostly just relieved that there’s something i can do for eve. i’ve never had something i can do to actively make my dog’s life better at the end of their life. bernie had alzheimer’s, or the dog equivalent. she just forgot everything. and when she stopped recognizing me and my sister, and tried to bite us, mom euthanized her basically immediately. we put a lot of time and effort into keeping randi healthy when she had cancer but even after the money we spent and stuff she died on the floor. that was mom’s biggest worry about eve. that the money she spent wouldn’t matter. jake got bloat really suddenly and like two hours later he was dead. there was just... nothing i could do in those situations. but eve might get to live for a few more months. maybe i could see her at christmas. it’s a possibility. i’m afraid to get my hopes up, but knowing the option is there...

so, i guess, i’m sad about my life. but i’m happy about eve’s. and... i’m glad i will be able to help her for that first week. even though it makes me exhausted i’m happy i don’t HAVE to think about death for another short while yet.

#tw suicide #animal death #i just talk about it no bad news actually #were both ok for now

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targetdummy · 7 years

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I’m not interesting, but I was tagged by @givemebishies to answer some stuff about. These probably won’t be that cool or interesting for anyone else to read, but here we go!

Rules: Answer all questions, add one question of your own and tag as many people as there are questions.

1. Coke or Pepsi: Pepsi. It’s sweeter, and you’re supposed to sip soda rather than drinking it like water. Plus, MJ still forgave them after they caught his hair on fire, started his painkiller addiction, and dropped him as a promoter because of the child abuse allegations, so I imagine he at least liked to drink it.

2. Disney or Dreamworks: Disney generally. I’m not a big fan of either one, but I think Disney has made more important things in their time. Kind of unfair since they’ve been around longer, but whatever.

3. Coffee or Tea: Cappuccino. And even then I don’t want to taste the coffee in it.

4. Books or Movies: I watch more movies, but I think more books have had a serious impact on my life. I don’t know though, Rocky is a freaking masterpiece.

5. Windows or Mac: What? Where is my GNU/Linux option? Richard Stallman didn’t die for this! [For real though, I use Windows because I’m peasant trash who likes to play video games without spending hours on configuration. Though, I am considering dual-booting with Linux Mint in the near future. We’ll see. And Stallman isn’t dead, that was a joke.]

6. DC or Marvel: Marvel. Gotta have my Spider-Man and X-Men. The Avengers are also much more varied and interesting than the Justice League.

7. Xbox or Playstation: Playstation all the way. I can’t even name an Xbox exclusive offhand other than Halo or Gears of War. Playstation has a more interesting history too.

8. Dragon Age or Mass Effect: A friend of mine kept telling me to play both, but stressed Dragon Age more. I have played neither.

9. Night Owl or Early Rise: Night owl. I feel and work better at night. I like knowing the rest of the world is asleep.

10. Cards or Chess: Cards because they are an unlimited number of games! (So is Chess technically, but I like that with cards you can more easily have a random aspect if you want).

11. Chocolate or Vanilla: Are we talking ice cream? Vanilla. Are we talking brownies? Chocolate. Are we talking anything else? I don’t know.

12. Vans or Converse: I buy the cheapest shoe that feels comfortable and doesn’t make me hate myself when I wear them. I’ve never owned either of those.

13. Lavellan, Trevelyan, Cadash or Adaar: I’m sorry, I’m only a level 2 mage, I don’t know those ones yet.

14. Fluff or Angst: both I guess? I’m an angst lookin’ to get his fluff on.

15. Beach or Forest: Beach beach beach. I need to be warm and surrounded by water.

16. Dogs or Cats: I like cats and dogs that act like cats.

17. Clear Skies or Rain: Rain all the way. Rain for days. Clear skies are boring and make me sad. They don’t even move. I can feel rain. It surrounds me and makes me feel loved. Warm rain especially, or cool rain on a warm day.

18. Cooking or Eating Out: I prefer eating out in both senses of the term. But for real, I love restaurants. I love the feeling of being in one, and knowing that my food is being handled by someone who knows how to make it well. Then to just have it brought to me, it’s awesome. Like, I didn’t make this. I don’t deserve this. But you’re giving me this, just for some paper. It’s just so comforting. Oh, and takeout is awesome too, because it’s that experience, but with more control and less atmosphere. All of it makes me so happy, honestly, I can’t understate how awesome it is to pickup food from somewhere awesome. Shout out to my people at El Canelo, that’s the place I dream of when I’m hungry. Any Chinese/Japanese is great too. Then fast food, Sheetz and Chick-Fil-A especially can be great. All of it, man. I’m sorry, I wrote too much for this.

19. Spicy Food or Mild Food: Spicy! Specifically, spicy and sweet. It’s all a part of the experience!

20. Halloween/Samhain or Solstice/Yule/Christmas: Halloween is cooler theme-wise. Japanese Christmas though 💕

21. Would you rather forever be a little too cold or a little too hot : Yeah, I guess a little too cold, because I love the sensation of getting warm.

22. If you could have a superpower, what would it be? Phew, does what Dr. Manhattan have count? You know, just be god. Nah, I wouldn’t want that, that’s too much. Controlling time would be cool. Would probably be depressing in reality, but cool in theory.

23. Animation or Live Action: This really depends on the work.

24. Paragon or Renegade: I have no idea what this is referencing. But Renegade is a 1986 beat ‘em up game that I really like for one reason: it’s the start of the Kunio-Kun series that would eventually lead to Downtown Nekketsu Monogatari, or River City Ransom. Renegade isn’t amazing on its own, but really cool to see where RCR got its origin.

25. Baths or Showers: Showers usually.

26. Team Cap or Team Iron Man: Haven’t watched Civil War yet, but Iron Man.

27. Fantasy or Sci-Fi: Sci-Fi usually feels bigger than Fantasy and can include Fantasy elements without much of an issue (infinite universe, infinite possibilities), so I’ll go with it.

28. Do you have three or four favourite quotes?

Okay, these might get lengthy, so here we go:

1. (Solid Snake from Metal Gear Solid 2)

“Life isn't just about passing on your genes. We can leave behind much more than just DNA. Through speech, music, literature and movies... what we've seen, heard, felt... anger, joy and sorrow... these are the things I will pass on. That's what I live for. We need to pass the torch, and let our children read our messy and sad history by its light. We have all the magic of the digital age to do that with. The human race will probably come to an end some time, and new species may rule over this planet. Earth may not be forever, but we still have the responsibility to leave what traces of life we can. Building the future and keeping the past alive are one and the same thing. “

2. (Dr. Manhattan from Watchmen)

“Nothing ends, Adrian. Nothing ever ends.”

3. (Shigeru Miyamoto)

“A delayed game is eventually good, but a rushed game is forever bad.“

And there’s a lot more but I’m bad at remembering them.

29. YouTube or Netflix: YouTube, I watch it way more than Netflix. I like all the different voices on YouTube, how accessible it is.

30. Harry Potter or Percy Jackson: Isn’t Harry Potter a My Immortal fanfic? I go with that one. Also, nobody will even remember Percy Jackson in ten years.

31. When You Feel Accomplished: When I’ve created something that people enjoy, and when I fulfill the needs of those I love. I haven’t been doing enough of either lately :/

32. Star Wars or Star Trek: I accept that Star Trek is superior in every way, however I will always defend Star Wars as my personal favorite.

33. Paperback Books or Hardback Books: Hardback. I am less likely to ruin it, and it looks nicer on a shelf.

34. horror or rom-com: I’m not a fan of either, but I like horror elements in other things.

35. tv shows or movies: TV shows. Individual stories that build to an overall story arc will always have more depth than a single movie. That’s why Samurai Jack is more compelling than any of the samurai movies it draws inspiration from.

36. favorite animal: Tiger.

37. favorite genre of music: Funk and its derivatives.

38. least favorite book: The Old Man and the Sea. I like Hemmingway, but it’s a book where nothing happens, the most exciting part is when he says the ocean is a women having her period, and the ending feels like actually watching an old man die. He doesn’t die in the book, that’s just how it feels.

39. favourite season: Summer. As hot as possible.

40. song that’s currently stuck in your head: ME NE’ER HA ME GUN SO ME HA TA MOO SHARP LI ME KNIFE

41. what kind of pyjama’s do you wear? Pajama pants and a t-shirt. I wear this all day when possible.

42. Handwriting or Typing? Typing. Gotta go fast. And I can’t compile my code from a piece of paper.

43. If you can only choose one song to be played at your funeral, what would it be? The Real Folk Blues.

44. What is your go to book/movie/tv show that you immediately find solace in when you feel down? Okay, I don’t know about books, movies, or TV shows, but I always find solace in any YouTube show that can make me feel less alone. It doesn’t have to be funny or interesting, I just have to feel like people are around me, talking, and being happy. Game Grumps works well for this, or most podcasts.

45. “Yer a wizard/witch, Y/N” - your reaction? I know. I didn’t learn to code just to not be a wizard.

46. Are you generally a messy or organized person? I’m an organized person who appears messy. It’s like a hashing algorithm. There is some initial data behind it, but you can’t make sense of the result, and there’s no way to reverse it.

47. What’s your go to comfort food? Anything fried. Especially fries. It just feels so familiar, so welcoming, like it can never be bad. Especially with good sauces, sweet and sour most of all probably.

48. Do you enjoy being creative? If so what’s your favorite way to create? I do. I’m not sure what my favorite way is. Writing is easiest, but making games and web stuff is so rewarding. I need to do more either way.

My question:

49: Other than Tumblr, what is your favorite website?

I have no friends to tag :D (But if you see this and nobody tagged you to do it, you can totally say I tagged you and do it anyway. I’ll vouch for you.)

#ask tag

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kaiunkaiku · 7 years

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Sickdays #4: Stress

Date: January 11th (late)

Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn

Characters: Gokudera Hayato, Yamamoto Takeshi aka my the OTP

@sickdaysofficial @sickandvomiting

A/N: This fandom. This ship. I will go down. I love torturing Gokudera.

Gokudera is hands down the most stressed person Yamamoto has ever encountered. They’re nineteen years old and he’s had two ulcers, insomnia for years (probably before they even met five years ago) and a serious painkiller addiction (thank God that’s over), and Yamamoto is fairly sure the other boy is well on his way working himself into a mental institute.

Gokudera is also incredibly stubborn and constantly pissed off, so there's not much Yamamoto can do to help. His options are limited to rubbing shoulders, having sex and making sure Gokudera doesn’t skip meals or sleep, and though he knows Gokudera is grateful for those, he wishes he could do more.

At times, an opportunity presents itself in a form of some awful bug attacking Gokudera’s virtually non-existent immune system. For someone who holds his ability to work in such high regard, Gokudera gets sick ridiculously often. Yamamoto himself caught a cold maybe two or three years ago and hasn't been sick since, but Gokudera is confined to bed at least five times a year and often more. He never gets just colds, no, Gokudera Hayato gets the flu, a random stomach bug no one else gets, the flu again, then he collapses from overwork and spends a week not being able to lift a finger, then he has tonsillitis and then it’s the ulcer’s turn again.

It’s not like Yamamoto is surprised to wake up to his boyfriend falling out of bed and vomiting on the floor. It’s not the first time and it probably won't be the last, but it doesn't make it any less worrying. Yamamoto rolls to Gokudera’s side of the bed and drops to the floor next to him. Gokudera is in a loose fetal position, arms around his stomach, coughing and retching up water and half-digested pills. Aspirin, Yamamoto would say if he had to guess. And nothing else, absolutely nothing else, and Yamamoto realizes that either Gokudera hasn't been eating again or he’s thrown up after his last meal. Neither of the options sounds particularly pleasant.

Yamamoto is pretty sure that Gokudera isn't fully aware of what’s happening. His eyes are wide open but there's a dazed, glassy look in them. Definitely feverish.

Gradually, the fit comes to an end, but Gokudera makes effort to move except for curling up a little tighter and reaching for his head. A whimper gets Yamamoto moving, too - it’s the single sound he hates the most on this planet, beating the pained screaming and the exhausted screaming and the hurt screaming and literally everything else ten to zero. Yamamoto’s hands find Gokudera’s frail shoulders and lift him up to lean on his chest. Gokudera’s breath comes in short, labored gasps as he slumps against Yamamoto and then pulls his knees to his chest.

“That bad, huh?” Yamamoto asks, voice soft and empathetic. He’s seen this before, but it doesn't make it any easier. Slowly, he starts rubbing circles on Gokudera’s stiff shoulders, lightly at first. Gokudera barely nods, instead bringing his long, scarred fingers to massage his temples. There are some new scars, again, and in the t-shirt Gokudera is wearing Yamamoto can see the burn marks along his forearms. The clock on the nightstand is showing nearly five in the morning.

They spend a while on the floor, silent, until Yamamoto gently nudges Gokudera up and tucks him into bed. He cleans up before turning Gokudera’s alarm clock off and going back to sleep himself.

When he wakes up a few hours later, Gokudera is fast asleep and looking more peaceful than Yamamoto has seen him in ages. He plants a soft kiss on his boyfriend’s forehead - the fever is definitely still there - before getting up. It’s a Saturday so they don't have much to do, but he wants to catch up on a few things and maybe check on their newer members, though most of them are older than him. Schoolwork is also calling, because apparently you can't escape university even when you’re a core member of one of the most influential mafia families in the world.

It’s nearly noon when Gokudera, true to his flame, storms into Yamamoto's office. He’s livid and upset and it crosses Yamamoto's mind that maybe he should have woken him up in the morning after all, but then he starts noticing other things too. The disheveled state of his hair, the way his shirt is buttoned wrong, the dark shadows under his eyes against the ghostly pallor of his skin. The fact that his hands are shaking.

“What the fuck, Takeshi!” Gokudera hollers from the door that he just threw open. His voice is raspy and breath short, and he leans on the door frame heavily. Yamamoto scrambles up from his desk and hurries to Gokudera. “Didn't bother to wake me up, huh? And you turned my fucking alarm off? I have work to do,” he snarls as Yamamoto gets close enough.

“But Hayato, you're sick. And you needed the sleep, you haven't been getting enough,” Yamamoto tries to explain as calmly as possible. He doesn't step as close as he’d like to, because if Gokudera is feeling confrontational he’ll get pissed by anything, including Yamamoto's superior height. “You were up most of last night, too.”

Gokudera grits his teeth in irritation.

“Do you think that I do it willingly? Do you honestly think I enjoy staring at stacks of paper and tutoring snotty grade schoolers all day?” He takes a step forward, right into Yamamoto's personal space, and cranes his neck enough so that his turquoise eyes are staring right into Yamamoto's brown ones. Yamamoto takes a step back in turn.

“Well guess fucking what, I don't! But nobody else is doing it, so someone has to!” Gokudera takes a step back, himself, before starting to walk a circle. His arms are flailing in frustration, and Yamamoto decides that maybe it's best for him to let him have his rant.

“I mean, thank God for you and the 10th for doing your job, but we have a fucking ten-year-old and then we have the lawn-head and then we have fucking Hibari, don’t even get me fucking started on him…! Oh and we have new members and I have university and… then…” Gokudera’s steps slow down with his speech until he stops completely, eyes staring listlessly at nothing as if he’d just forgotten what he was talking about. Yamamoto frowns.

“Takeshi, you know,” Gokudera starts again, voice suddenly feeble and high-pitched. He swallows convulsively and his face goes even paler, alarming Yamamoto who quickly walks up to the shorter boy. “I don’t… I think, I… I’m not…”

“Hayato? What is it?” Yamamoto asks, trying to keep himself calm. He places his hand carefully on Gokudera’s forehead, and Gokudera leans onto his touch. Not surprising, Yamamoto tells himself, considering that the fever feels quite impressive.

Gokudera’s hand reaches for Yamamoto's wrist, gripping it tight. Yamamoto seeks Gokudera’s other hand to hold, intertwining their fingers. Gokudera is shaking and swaying on his feet.

“I’m gonna pass out,” Gokudera announces in a thin, airy breath, just before his eyes roll to the back of his head and his grip goes slack. There’s a moment of terror when Yamamoto thinks he’s gonna fall and hit his head and he won't be able to catch him in time, that somehow he’ll fuck this up really bad.

Yamamoto catches him before he’s anywhere near the ground. His reflexes are unrivalled among the majority of the population and surpassed by very, very select few people and he knows that, but somehow, when it comes to Gokudera, he still doubts himself at times. He has this overwhelming need to protect him, and sometimes Gokudera makes it damn hard. And it's ridiculous, really, because Gokudera is perfectly capable of holding his own on the battlefield and he’s terrifyingly intelligent, but his utter neglect of his well being in favor of getting three people’s work done is astounding.

He gets Gokudera on the floor with ease and turns him on his side. In just a few seconds, thank the gods, Gokudera blinks awake, sluggish and a little disoriented.

“You're staying in bed today,” Yamamoto declares as soon as he's sure Gokudera is actually conscious. His tone leaves no room for questions, but Gokudera tries, anyway.

“Am not,” he grumbles, sitting up slowly. The movement isn't kind to him, but he tries to ignore it to the best of his ability. “I have work to do and it’s not gonna do itself.” The genuine distress in Gokudera’s voice over paperwork hurts Yamamoto's heart, because the fact that Gokudera still feels the need to validate himself through his accomplishments is just sad. It reminds him so much of when they were in middle school and Gokudera was ready to throw his life away in a fraction of a second just to prove himself and his loyalty and ability. The fourteen-year-old Gokudera Hayato who had absolutely no interest in keeping his own life if dying meant he could be useful.

He still sees that sometimes.

“You'll be able to do it better when you're healthy, okay? Hey, I’ll take some of your paperwork, yeah? And you go to sleep.” Yamamoto's gentle voice, admittedly laced with a little bit of his flame, tends to work miracles. It does nothing to alleviate Gokudera’s obvious anxiety over the matter.

“No, you don't get it, I have a schedule --”

“I know you have a schedule.”

“-- and I’m so behind on it and --”

“You're not, by the way.”

“-- then there’s, there’s, wait, what?” Gokudera’s eyes snap to Yamamoto at the speed of light.

“I’ve seen your schedule, okay?” Yamamoto explains. “And I promise you, you're not behind. I know you like to do everything a few days ahead, but you can afford to take a day off.”

For a moment, Gokudera’s posture goes defensive, but it deflates quickly. He takes a deep, shuddering breath and seems to finally succumb to his exhaustion, and Yamamoto sighs in relief. He hates arguing with Gokudera, even more so when the other is this stressed. He knows Gokudera hates it, too, which makes him hate it even more. He’s never really understood why two people who hate fighting fight.

“Okay,” Gokudera breathes. “Okay. But you're carrying me back to bed. I don't... think I can walk back.” He admits it with a rather embarrassed voice, averting his eyes as if he thought it was somehow shameful. Yamamoto resists the urge to start telling him how there's nothing to be embarrassed about and it’s just a two of them.

“We can work with that,” he says instead. Slowly and steadily he drags Gokudera up, watching out for signs of dizziness gonna-pass-outs. The change in altitude drains the color from his face, but Gokudera bites his lip until he’s safely in Yamamoto's arms.

#sickdays #sickdays day 4 #sickfic #my writing #i think i said day three was self-indulgent #well i was wrong #this is

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harth-rosanna-blog · 7 years

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Thief & Werewolf- Ch 3- First Encounter

Read the entire story at: https://harth-rosanna.deviantart.com/gallery/63924814/The-Thief-and-the-Werewolf

I feel like for my age, there are far too many times when I have woken up laying in a bed with no memory of how I got there and immense pain running through my body. And that’s where I find myself yet again. My chest feels like it's on fire and there is a constant, throbbing pain in time with my heartbeats that shoots from my hand up my arm. I can’t help but groan. Man this hurts. How did I get this way again? I open my eyes to spy the top of a four poster bed. My memories shuffle slightly as a sense of familiarity washes over me. The manor. This is one of the rooms of.. I sit up rapidly, hissing as my chest flares up as the covers slide over the bandages. Wait, bandages? Oh, it's coming back to me now. Hellhound. I glance at my hand can’t help but mutter, “Oh, not a nightmare then.” I let my body drop back onto the bed with a grunt, raising my hand up to my forehead. How to process all this..

My attempts to process are instantly interrupted by a far too chipper and happy, “Good afternoon, Miss Gray!” Oh gods, what now. That’s gotta be the daughter with that soft girlish voice. And did she squeak as she said my last name? WAIT! HOW DID SHE KNOW MY LAST NAME! That. Bitch. I let out a hot breath as I turn my head to behold her and she asks, “How are you feeling?” in the same chipper tone.

Looking her over through the pain she’s about five foot, four inches. Dark red hair tied behind her head. Rounded face and large eyes. As my eyes travel down her body her tits dominate my view for a second. Dear lord those are big on her small, slim body. She’s wearing stuff similar to what I wear, leathers and darker clothes. Shirt and a pair of pants. Oh, I should probably respond to the girl instead of just staring at her. I’m supposed to be her ‘friend’ or whatever. I use my left hand to scoot myself to sit up, wincing slightly and clear my throat. “How do you think I feel with my tits and hand in the state they are?” Shit, why was I a sarcastic ass there? She hasn’t done anything to me. I let out a sigh and look her in the eyes, “You must be the daughter. What was your name again?” The girl lights up with a smile at that and steps forward to try and recover my bandaged chest with a sheet, evidently unaware of how much that stings. Just… fight it down Shadow. She says, “Emma. My name is Emma Garou.” She sits on the edge of the bed with her back to me. Damn this girl is trusting. “She’s not my real mother. Her name is Reisende- or rather that’s her last name. She likes to be called like it.” She shrugs her shoulders. “At least… for other people.” Probably non-werewolves or something. At least I have a name for her now. Emma sighs, glancing at me and grinning, ‘So… Let me guess.. She cast a concussive fireball? Or summoned one of her pets?” So I was right, werewolf -and- an accomplished mage. I ran into the crappiest situation. “Yeah… bitch summoned a hellhound.” I shift uncomfortably on the bed, glancing around the room to check my options out of habit. I think my gear is on the table and the door is still open. Curtains still drawn closed. Ah well, might as well just try and make nice with her. “Also.. if we’re gonna do this call me Shadow.” I hesitate for a second before adding maybe a little too vehemently, “And if you laugh, I will hit you. I don’t care that I’m injured!” I glower at her and I’m dead serious. Shadow might seem like a stupid name but it was given to me by a group of friends that are now all dead. I earned it through blood and tears and it's almost all I have to remember them by.

The girl, Emma, snorts and shakes her head, “Shadow? Seriously?” She starts to giggle. I fucking told her. I start shifting to free my left hand from its support of my torso so I can hit her as she continues, “What kind of name is that, Miss Shadow?” She pauses for all of a second, her face contorting into an epiphany, “Oh! I know, you must be a member of a thieves guild or something, right? And that’s your code name!” I really wish I could have shifted faster because I’m only able to start throwing the punch at her shoulder as she’s finishing up. Pain flares through my body as I throw it. I know it was stupid but -no one- laughs at that. I can’t actually hurt her because I’ll get killed but I can try and settle things between us now. She rubs her shoulder from where my fist landed and squeaks out, “I’m just telling the truth. It’s a silly name.” She reaches over and tries to recover my chest with the sheet as I sit there panting through the pain. She looks me in the eye with a smirk, “And I’m right, aren’t I?”

Anger. No, rage. It. Is. My. Name. I breath a little harder. Its hard to focus. I can’t.. Control. I finally scream at top of my voice, “IT IS NOT!” I manage to suck in air and the world refocuses slightly and I remember that I’m supposed to play nice with her but I’m still so angry. I add, “Fine, if you’re gonna laugh every time just fucking call me Sarah.” There, I’ve given her my real name. Gods.. no one has known my real name since Alice… And my chest, oh gods it hurts. I try to place my hand over it but it only stings slightly, detracting from the bone deep pain I feel and replacing it with surface pain. I whine a little, “Gods dammit that was stupid.” The screaming or touching a wound? Both, definitely both. Just need to calm down so I can get past these pleasantries and have her get me something to dull the pain.

She nods at me in her soft-sweet voice, “Sarah. That’s a good name. Better than mine. Emmalyne.” Emmalyne is fine you silly girl. She shrugs, looking lost for a second before smiling at me and asking, “What do you like to do, Sarah?” I stare at her, mouth ajar. Wait.. I’m sitting here.. In obvious pain and she… she….

“Are. You. Fucking. Kidding me. I am sitting here in -excruciating- levels of pain and you ask me WHAT I LIKE TO DO?” My voice rises from incredulity to the same screeching from earlier.

The girl seems to deflate in front of me, eyes going wide and fearful at my anger. That switch was fast but I’m too pissed to care. “S-sorry…” She scoots away from me, stuttering in her meekness and beginning to hyperventilate, “I’ll… Um.. I’ll give you some space then…” She stands up and backs away from me towards the door as if I’m gonna jump out of it and stab her. As if I could. I just need some painkillers. She stops at the doorway looking like a beaten puppy, “Reisende wants you to pack your things… because we… um.. Leave in a few hours...”

The rest of what she says gets too quiet for me to hear through the pounding in my head from the anger and pain. A couple hours to get in shape to travel. I need her or I’m dead. I close my eyes and try to take a deep breath. You have to survive Shadow. I open them up and try to soften my gaze again, “Just.. give me a minute. And do you have any painkillers? I really… really need some if we’re gonna be leaving soon. Bitteroot, alemelcum powder, anything.” I list off the most common painkillers as I try and shift my way to the edge of the bed. Just start moving and get things done one at a time.

The girl nods, recovering some and holds up a hand to wave at me slightly, “Y- Sure… Um… Be right back.” She dashes out of the door hopefully to go get me some painkillers and not sick her mother on me for yelling at her. I’m half surprised her mother hasn’t come in to finish me off.

I hold onto my right arm with my left hand, having finally gotten to the edge of the bed. Fight through the pain Shadow. You haven’t been worse off than this, but you’ve been close. And hopefully Emma will come back with painkillers and then you can get dressed and.. Food. I’m hungry. That probably didn’t help dealing with Emma. I’m unconsciously muttering these instructions to myself as I stand. It's a sort of mantra I’ve worked out to help me focus and block out the pain. It helps and I’m able to get over to the table with my gear laying on it. I open every pouch and check both my knives with my left hand. They’ve been cleaned. And all my gear is here. At least there’s that. As I finish Emma bursts back into the room and I turn around.

She has a handful of green leaves in one hand. Bitteroot. Thank the gods. She approaches me carefully, a cup of tea in her other hand and a shirt over her shoulder. She looks afraid that I’ll yell at her again, “Um… here. The tea will help dull the pain, put the leave under your tongue and suck on it annd shirt.” She thrusts them all in my face at one. Well, at least she’s actually helping instead of trying to make friends while there’s more important crap to be done.

I shake my head slowly, better apologize to her and calm her down completely. I just realized after checking my gear that I’m gonna need her help… a lot. To do pretty much anything with my right hand as damaged as it is. I rest my good hand on her shoulder and squeeze it lightly. I’m shit at apologizing. “I’m…” I take a deep breath. Be nice, none of this is her fault. “I’m sorry for yelling earlier. If you can imagine I haven’t been having the best time lately, but that isn’t your fault.”

I watch her relax slightly. Good, that worked. She glances back to the open door, lowering her voice to a whisper, “Um.. yeah… Reisende is..” She winces, probably remembering something, “She can be… difficult, sometimes. You think your time with her was hard? She taught me everything I know about hunting… It… wasn’t all pleasant.” She looks a bit more like a beaten puppy the more she talks. Poor kid. I think I’m actually starting to sympathize with her, if not like her. That’ll come later. I frown a little, only managing to mutter, “I can imagine..” Enough bonding with your soon-to-be werewolf mistress Shadow. Probably better to not mention that until her mother wants. I take my hand off her shoulder and snag a leaf from her hands. Time to get moving. I shove it under my tongue and my face sours. I hate bitteroot but it works fast. I shudder slightly and point at the shirt, “Can you help me put that on?” Time to see how competent she is with this sort of thing. I really don’t want to have to hold her hand while I’m injured. She sets the tea cup down on the table with my gear and holds up the shirt, “Can you lift your arms or does that hurt too much.” Oh come on girl..

I lift my arms, rolling my eyes at her, bending over slightly and sucking in a breath, “Just drop it over my head and tug it down. Its gonna hurt no matter..” The shirt goes over my head while I suck on the bitterleaf. Searing pain as it slides over my breasts. I whimper as it settles all the way down and straighten out. The fabric only slightly stings when I move around. Small mercies that should be further improved once all these painkillers take effect. I take a shaky breath and mutter, “Thanks…” before looking back to the table. I should be able to put my belt on if I just whip it around my waist. I double check that all the pouches are sealed and grab it by the buckle, flipping it around my back and catching the other side and buckling it. At least I’m not right hand dominant right? Thank you ambidexterity, good for everything including when your hand gets burned by a hellhound’s blood.

The girl thrusts another long strip of cloth into my face. Bedsheet? “Sorry… here’s a sling if you need it.” Oh that it is, already pre-tied and everything. Thoughtful of her but if her mother lets me take a little trip to my home to actually get my stuff, I won’t wanna walk the streets in a sling.

“Probably while traveling.” I take the sling and tuck it though my belt, spitting out the leaf into my hand and setting it on the table. I grab the rest and slide them into an empty pouch for the road. Time to drink the tea, hopefully she put the powder in it. Bitteroot only lasts about twenty minutes and the trip to the south side will take at least an hour, not to mention how long it takes to eat. Before that though I have to ask her as I pick up one of my long knives, “Did you clean them?” I really do love these. Probably the most expensive things I own. Sturdy steel with a two inch thick blade. They honestly border on short swords but are just a smidge thinner. Good grip that doesn’t falter even when covered with blood. As I admire my knife she says hesitantly from behind me, “Did- Should I not have? I mean I know they are yours, but… they were dirty, and needed maintenance. Reisende says it's always good to make sure to maintain your weapons and tools.” She say’s the last bit like it's out of a lesson plan. As much as I hate to admit it, at least the bitch taught her how to do a good job on weapon maintenance.

I glance back to her and see her face on the verge of crying again. What did that woman do to her to make her this.. Beaten down? Submissive? I’m far from being the scariest person I know. Fuck it, if I’m gonna be trapped with them the least I can do is actually try to be a friend to her and build her confidence. Not to mention she’s pretty cute… Wait.. why did I? I turn my head away to try and process this, muttering out, “No no.. it's just.. Thanks.” I clear my throat and try to control myself again. Painkillers. Food. Get your stuff. Then try and process everything. I turn back to her and try and put a smile on my face, “I’ll take that tea now. Maybe a bite to eat too if the pantry has something.”

The girl smiles back at me. She’s quick to flip between the two as well. Beaten puppy or happy puppy. I should remember that for later. There’s a joke somewhere between that and werewolf. She picks up the tea and hands it to me which I sip, detecting the powder in there, good. She pipes up, her voice energetic again, “I can go get you some food. Um… do you have anything you like? That I can try to get?”

I try to maintain my smile and sip at the tea to hide how hard it is. Still a bit out of control. Maybe after some food? “How about I just follow you down?” I gulp down the rest of the tea quickly. I can already feel the sharpness start to wear off due to the bitteroot. Its helping me think clearer.

The girl flips halfway back to beaten puppy, hesitant as she’s been since I yelled at her, “Uh.. Reisende is down there. After she… overreacted to you?” That's what she told her? Oh gods. She didn’t even tell her daughter the truth. How to handle this. She’s been talking but I’m thinking about that problem. Do I just set the record straight right away?

“Just go. I know the terms of our arrangement.” That’ll work for now. I set the teacup on the table, no one is really gonna care about dirty dishes once we leave and I’m assuming the bitch knows how to leave no trace in an entire house after stealing it. Emma starts walking out of the room and I follow. If I can get her out of the house away from the bitch I’ll tell her the exact terms of what I’ve agreed too. Maybe not the whole… test subject for your mind control powers.. I shiver. Gods she was in my head. And I didn’t check to see if she still was when I woke.. Crap. Hopefully she kept her word. Please… please please have kept your word. I don’t know if I’d be able to handle that. My body follows Emma on autopilot while I think, trying to reign back in the panic so I don’t wind up screaming at Emma again.

Emma comes to a halt in front of me at a door before the kitchen. It takes another step for me to catch up and I glance in the room. The bitch. I take a deep breath and try to control my anger and frustration. She glances at the pair of us through her dark spectacles, “Oh, you’re awake Miss Gray, lovely. Has Emma changed your bandages yet or were you going to get a bite to eat first.” Don’t twitch Shadow, don’t show your frustration. Deep breaths. “Food and then I’ll take care of the rest. Any extra belongings I have are in my little nook on the south side of the city. Am I going to be able to get them?” I’m half expecting a no and fuck you from her.

She raises an eyebrow back, “Oh… well I suppose so. But you have to take Emma with you, understand?” She gives me a sickeningly sweet smile to me adds, “And if anything happens to her…” Of course, threaten me more. I raise my hand at her in half acknowledgement and half dismissal, “Yeah yeah, painful horrendous death. Whatever….” I can’t help but murmur, “Bitch” at the end of it. I don’t really care if she hears or not anymore. As long as I’m nice to Emma and obey orders I think I can get away with being unruly. That or chalk it up to the near life threatening injuries from her test. I think I should probably be worse off than I feel but whatever they did to me while I was out accelerated the healing. Emma says something to the bitch behind me as I rant and scurries after, giggling and clamping her hand over her mouth before bursting out into full laughter as I open the door to the pantry. She follows me as I step inside and starts looking around. Flour, meat, fruit, thank the gods. Something to finally eat. Emma finally stops laughing behind me, “I didn’t know you -knew-!” I turn to her, staring deadpan. Wait. she thought the bitch comment was a joke? There’s a huge internal sigh. Whatever, food. I grab a loaf of bread, pear and some jerky off the shelves and walk past her to the table. She rubs some tears out of her eyes and raises an eyebrow at me, “What? It was hilarious.” She walks over to the table next to me with her hands behind her back and bounces lightly, “You’re good.” I take a bite of the bread to buy some time. Do I try and play along or just make my distaste for her mother known now, that way it doesn’t come up later? Fuck it. I swallow, glancing at her, “It wasn’t a joke.” I drop the rest of my food on the table and look around for something to drink. A wine rack catches my eye and I heard over to it. I know I shouldn’t be drinking alcohol but who wouldn’t want to get drunk after running into a werewolf-mage, having said mage read your thoughts while controlling your body AND THEN on top of that ‘testing’ you by summoning a hellhound for you to fight. Ya, I’m gonna cut myself some slack and drink some wine. At least until I can eat a little, then I’ll find some water. I don’t waste much time in front of the wine rack, grabbing a bottle off it and coming back to the table and plopping into the chair opposite Emma. She’s been silent for a second after my comment but leans forward, head in her hands and elbows on the table. Girl, you have to know you show everyone your goods when you do that. She stammers slightly, backed to half-kicked puppy, “Well.. I… I.. Something to talk about on the way to get your things. Where are you things anyway, are they in your thieves guild?” This girl.. Asks the weirdest questions. Time to give her something to occupy herself with so she’ll stop flashing her cleavage in my direct line of sight. I slide her the wine bottle, “Open that please.” I hesitate a second as she grabs the wine bottle and uncorks it before adding, “No… I don’t run with a thieves guild or was I ever a member of one.” I shove a piece of jerky into my mouth to shut myself up before I start finishing that statement. The group I ran with wasn’t organized enough to be called a thieves guild. There also weren’t that many of us. I should give her something though, “My things… are hidden under the floorboard of a shack I rent.” I glance away from her and continue mindlessly shoving food into my mouth. That should be enough to get her to stop talking about thieves guilds.

She pipes out, “Oh… you rented? What was that like?” I hear the bottle slide back across the table to me and start to pick it up as she chides in a very nurselike tone, “Not too much.. I don’t think you want to be drunk.”

“I know…” I know Emma, but sometimes you just need a drink. I take a long swig of the wine which goes down smooth. It's not bad at all. Probably better than most I’ve tasted. I’m already starting to feel better with food and now drink in me. “As for the shack, it wasn’t great but it was mine.” I feel like I’ve satisfied her curiosity for now, at least until the next battery of questions so I start to really dig in, quickly eating through the bread and meat, starting on the pear by the time she finally decides to speak again. She’s laid fully on the table now, arms crossed and head on top of them, watching me like I was the most interesting thing in the world right now. She softly says, “You’ve… had a bit of a rough life, huh?” Now the girl starts to get it. I take the last bite out of the pear and set it on the table, leaning back in the chair. Might as well tell her a little, “Harder than some. And it has recently become more.. Complicated.” Without thinking, I bring my right hand up to brush crumbs off my shirt like usual until I make contact and dull fire shoots up my arm. “Damn.”

My pain sends Emma into action as she stands up from the table, walking around it, “You’ll have to tell me about that.” She rests a hand on my shoulder, “Where do you want to change your bandages at? We should probably do it before we go, right?” Smart girl. I nod at her, smiling slightly, “Ya, go get your stuff. I’m assuming you have stuff since I woke up bandaged and don’t have a fever from infection or anything right now.” I grab the wine and take another drink, setting it down and pushing it away. She was right after all. I’ll go find some water while she leaves. She smiles at me and squeezes my shoulder, “You probably won’t, unless you go swimming in the sewers today or something.” She makes towards the door, giving me a few of her slim gait. Jesus I can see her tits from behind. She says matter of factly with some pride, “After all, I was training to be a chirurgeon back in my village!” And then she’s off to the races again, scurrying up the stairs. Chirurgeon huh? Well, she just rose a few notches in my book. It also explains how I’m alive and not in a bed shaking in pain. This might not be as bad as I thought. She’s clearly smart, although with the personality of someone who’s been brow beaten her entire life. Well, I can fix that.. Hopefully. And in doing so maybe gain enough trust to be able to live my own life eventually.

I slide out of my chair and start checking cabinets for a pitcher of water. Gotta be something around here. Now that I actually have a moment to myself without someone in my head I can think. This probably won’t be that bad. I mean, I don’t know much about werewolves so I’ll need to be careful until I can wrangle all the information I need out of Emma. Which will also probably have to happen when she’s alone, away from queen bitch. I’m able to find a glass while thinking and start chugging down water. On my third glass Emma bounces back into the kitchen with a satchel, her breasts bouncing all over the place. That looks painful.

She winces and holds a hand over her chest as she walks to the table, “Guh.. Need better smallclothes.” Girl, just bind them down if you’re so annoyed. That's what most women who fight tend to do. There’s a reason why I wear that stiff leather. Which I just realized I still need to go find since it wasn’t with my gear. I know I can’t wear it with my chest as messed up as it is but I want it. She notices the half empty pitcher, “Oh! You found the water! I was wondering where that was.” Wait.. do werewolves not drink water? Or does she just have mommy prepare all her food. This.. could get weird.” She starts setting things out on the table before moving and grabbing a bowl and filling it with some of the water. She looks hesitant, holding up a sponge, “Do you want to sponge bathe yourself or…?” Really girl, I’m your patient, not your lover. Just clean my wounds and rebandage them. “You can do it. I’ll trust your word that you were training. It actually doesn’t seem like you can lie at all.” I smirk because to me, it really doesn’t seem like she can. Far too innocent and naive to deceive people willingly. I bend over and pull off my shirt, tossing it onto a chair and turning it to face Emma, sitting down. I better ask her about my jerkin too, “Where’s my leather jerkin by the way? It wasn’t in the room with the rest of my gear.” She blushes at seeing my bandage covered chest. She is… ridiculously innocent. She moves around being me and mutters something and then starts unwrapping my bandages. Does she know magic or something? That sounded like it. She stutters slightly again, still blushing as she slowly pulls the bandages off, “Um… Leather jerkin? I didn’t see a leather jerkin. All I saw was a torn up shirt.” At least she has a light touch. Probably best to just ask the person who removed it in the first place.

I try to relax my body some for her, “Of course.” I can’t help but sigh, “I suppose I’ll have to ask your mother about that.” I rub my face with my good hand while she works, bandages finally off my chest so I can glance down at the wound. That… is pretty nasty but not deep. I wonder why she’d take my jerkin though and not give it back. Maybe an oversight?

She moves to my hand and start peeling that bandage off starting on my upper arm. She quietly says, “You can borrow one of mine, if you want. I have two. It might be a little… um.. Big in the chest and short in length, but.. It might fit.” That's nice but I can’t wear one until I heal anyway.

“We’ll see.” I stare at my chest wound some more, it's easier than trying to look at my had. I mutter, “Damn.. that’s gonna leave a scar.” I can’t help but want to run a finger along it, shivering slightly at the light pain and the air on the wound. She chides me again in that same nurse voice, “Careful.” She sets the spent bandages on the table and takes the sponge to begin cleaning. She really does know what she’s doing, not scrubbing, just lightly pressing to pull the dirt off while she explains. “I didn’t get the chance to clean you first, before.. You were not in very good shape.” She takes a breath as she dampens the sponge, “As for the scar… I think they might suit you well. Or be rather faint. The hand..” She falls silent for a second and I shift my gaze to it. Wow… that is… almost ruined. I’ve lost at least a few layers of skin on it. She continues reassuringly, “If you are diligent in flexing it all the time, and stretching it open- you should retain full use.” Retain full use. That bad huh? Well I guess the only thing is to make sure I do that. Not now cause I can feel the pain of it even through all those painkillers I took. But getting this better… “I will retain full use.”

Emma moves to my hand finally, starting to sponge it off while she mutters, “Don’t forget. I… I don’t like seeing people hurt.” I know Emma, you’d never be able to do what your mother did to me last night. Maybe in self defense eventually? But what am I saying, I just met her a few hours ago. She might have a completely different personality when she gets into a fight or something. You never know. Still though. She’s been nothing but kind to me since I woke up. Maybe a bit ditzy with her questions. But always kind. I think..”How you are is probably gonna be the only way I’ll survive this.”

We sit there in silence for the next few minutes while she finished rebandaging me. It's probably the most peaceful thing I’ve done in the last… gods.. Year? Just quietly sitting in the company of another, no immediate danger or worries about what’s gonna happen next because I don’t know. I can’t even fathom what is gonna happen in the next few hours, much less the next few days. And this innocent naive girl… who is also a fledgling werewolf is taking care of me. I have not been taken care of since Alice... Gods.. has it been that long. I feel Emma tie off the bandage on my right arm and help me put on my shirt, all silently. I let out a sigh and adjust the shirt, “Let's go.” I stand up and start heading out of the kitchen. Action.. I need action. I don’t want to, can’t, have those kind of thoughts right now. I pause in the foyer right before the stairs. I can’t just walk into the south side with a bandaged up hand and chest. We won’t make it far… cloaks. There has to be cloaks here. I glance around and spot what I hope is a closer and open it, “Aha!.” I pull two cloaks off the rack and toss one to Emma, “Put that on.” I start shuffling to put it over my shoulders and tie it down one handed. I hear Emma speak, “Thank you but.. It’s rather warm, and not raining.” She drapes it over the bannister for the stairs, “If you need to hide your injury though… I suppose it isn’t a bad way to go about it.” It's not only the injury girl. Do you realize how attractive you are? Combined with your innocence you’d get taken into a dark alley the instant you got spotted, which would mean you’d be leaving dead bodies everywhere.

I sigh, giving up on trying to tie the cloak down. It's too damn hard to do one handed. “Its that and also to not have to break some jackasses nose for trying to grope you.” Again, your bust is massive and that’s all stupid men care about. “And as enjoyable as that is. I don’t really want to get into trouble right now. So cloak on please. And a little help.” She looks at me with some pluck, stepping forward to tie on my cloak. “I can take care of myself you know. Besides, you’re the injured one. If you think I’m gonna let you hurt yourself defending me, you’ve got another thing coming.” She grins like it's a challenge. By all the cursed gods this girl is far… far too innocent. I look at her harshly, “Just put the cloak on Emma. I know you can but I’m trying to avoid trouble.” We could leave bodies in the street no problem. Even wounded I can take a few people or at least make a show of it but I really just don’t have the mental capacity to deal with any more. And I just realized another problem. I came in through the balcony. I now have a useless hand and a chest that is half torn open and held together by herbs and bandages. Shit, “How do you normally leave the house? Is there some underground passage or something?”

She finally puts on the damn cloak, blushing slightly for whatever reason, “Second floor balcony.. How- Um… I accidentally left it unlocked I guess.. Last night.” No you didn’t honey, I picked it and then got my ass handed to me by your mother. But that’s for another time.

“Yeah… unlocked.” I start to head up the stairs to said balcony. If that’s the only way in or out to not attract notice then I guess we’ll figure something out, “We have another problem then. How am I gonna climb down from the balcony? I would jump but I think my chest would reopen on landing. So unless you have some rope.. Or can carry me while jumping…” She actually might be able to. I have no basis for how strong a werewolf is. Even a waif of a girl. She says happily behind me, “I can carry you. I’m pretty strong, y’know.” Ok, confirmed then. That solves that problem at least. And also teaches me that I should be careful of her. If she can carry me that means she an also probably break bones easily. Whatever, something to shelf again for later. I think the shelf might collapse soon though. Far too much crap getting piled on it for me to deal with later

I shrug lightly as I put my hand on the doorknob to the balcony and peek outside, “At least the sun’s already down.” I glance back at her, seeing her smiling face and energetic demeanor, “Do you need to tell your mother we’re leaving?” She seems to deflate slightly, letting out a small sigh, “She’s not-” She turns around and raises her voice slightly, “We’re off! Be back before dawn!” She practically shoves me out the doorway, closing it and locking it with a key she hides again quickly. Not bad handwork either. Probably a werewolf thing. Might as well get this over with, “Carry away. I have a feeling I’m gonna have to get used to all the weird in my life now.” I step over to the edge of the balcony, looking down and checking the height.

I feel her come up behind me and sweep my legs out with one arm, the other resting on my lower back so I’m cradles in her arms. There’s a surety there that is so opposite to her personality. I can barely get my arm around her neck before she hops onto the railing in one step and drops down to the ground. The impact rattles my chest, sending a spike of pain through me. She staggers slightly but recovers and sets me on my feet. In opposition to what she just did she stutters, “S-sorry… I’ve- Uh…” She blushes bright red like she just kissed me or something. She gets even softer, “Never done that with someone… Al- With someone before.” She gives me a shy smile, “You’re lighter than I thought you would be.

I actually feel a blush creeping up into my cheeks and I turn away from her. This girl… she’s so lonely. Gods what have I gotten myself into? Whatever, I just need to get us safely to my place, get my stuff and come back and then I’m back to following orders. This might actually be the last bit of freedom I get for awhile. Oh well, might as well enjoy myself some. Maybe I’ll even do something stupid on the way. Not that I want to impress her.. Emma… Whatever, time to start moving again Shadow.

#fantasy #fiction #my writing #chapter 3 #novel

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