#Muscle atrophy

[chaotic-orphan]

Vendetta (X)

Read part one // Continued from here

Strap in lads, this is gonna hurt.

*~*~*~*~*

Supervillain walked with purposeful, basking strides back towards the stage, villains parting like an honour guard for him as he walked. Villain walked behind, parading Hero after him, the whip cutting into Hero’s wrists and yanking them stumbling forward. Hero felt the coldness of Villain’s shadows possessing them, keeping them upright even as they longed to just pass out.

They didn’t want to fight anymore, they wanted to lie down and die with Superhero. They longed to plunge their… their sword that killed…

Tears somehow had the energy to keep streaming down their faces in bursts. They could still see Grieves striding forwards and grabbing the sword from Supervillain’s hands.

If Hero… if Hero never got caught then Superhero would be— they’d—

Villain dragged them up on stage and kept them by his side this time, letting Supervillain take centre stage. Grieves stood on the other side of the stage, next to Crow and the other boy from before who looked a little paler now, a little less relaxed.

“Superhero is dead. The heroes are scattered. We won!” Supervillain yelled. The shouts and cries of joy and laughter, the stomping and clapping and hollering and whistling, all of it sounded so far away to Hero who just sat staring at stage in front of them. They lost.

They actually… lost.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. The good guys were supposed to win! The good guys won in every book and movie and— it can’t end like this? With Superhero dead, Hero on their knees immobile. Surely, surely someone else will come? Surely… Teleport? Or Medic? Or… or… Hero’s hands balled into fists as a fresh wave of sobs overtook their body.

It was pathetic and childish, and so, so tone deaf to the imminent life altering moment that was before them, but all they wanted in that moment was Vigilante. He’d know what to do. He’d hold them and hug them close and tell them everything would be alright.

Hero wanted them, longed for them, with every ounce of their soul. The grief was like a quilt, dulling their senses and making everything quiet, everything except that ache for the one person they loved; the one person who loved them most. The person they’ll probably never see again.

“The time has finally come for a world where we don’t have to hide our powers, where we can walk free from the shadows. Where the powerless will know who we are, and not fear us, but respect us.” Supervillain continued. He spread his arms and indicated the crowd to quiet down. “I know I promised a world where we would rule, but if I make that world then this cycle of violence will start again.”

Hero looked up, eyes on Supervillain as he spoke. What? Did Supervillain actually want peace all this time?

“I can see your faces, but fret not, friends. We will all be on the right side of history, and it will be the Heroes who suffer in the new world!”

Another burst of claps and cheers. Supervillain turned and gestured at the boy on the other side of the stage. Crow walked the boy up to Supervillain who smiled encouragingly. The boy couldn’t have been older than sixteen, dressed in a black hoodie and jeans. He glanced over his shoulder at Hero who stared at him, too tired to offer any compassion.

“I want to thank each and every one of you here for helping us win this war, forging a new world order, know you will have my gratitude eternally.” Supervillain grabbed the boy’s hand and Hero felt the pull of power at the contact.

Their eyes widened and their stomach drooped. “No,” they breathed. Hero tried to push against Villain’s hold but Villain tightened the collar of shadows around Hero’s throat and squeezed. “No! Get back!”

But their warning was lost in the sound of cheers and applause. That boy… he must be some kind of magnifier, extending Supervillain’s reach of his power but how far Hero didn’t know.

A ball of light erupted from Supervillain and the boy, burning so bright that Hero had to turn their face away to shield themselves from the glare and the light was warm, pleasantly so, and it seemed to get closer and closer Hero. They heard bodies drop around them and people’s cries of surprise and fear and then nothing but a single, searing ringing that echoed everywhere; so loud and clear it was as if Supervillain had dropped a bomb on the battlefield and all that was left was silence and bright, white light, and that ringing.

Hero woke up in the light, stretching for miles around until it was out of sight, encompassing everything. The sky, the horizon, the earth, the ground, nothing was safe from its entombment.

Hero walked along the white ground, footsteps repeating coldly back to Hero’s ears, Villain’s whip and the shadows no longer a concern. Their hands were free. They reached up to touch their face but it was still flakey with blood from the battle, and Hero was in their same clothes. Hero frowned down at their hands.

“Confused?”

Hero whirled, eyes wide as they settled on Supervillain grinning in front of them. He stood casually, one hand in his pocket, his head tilted to the side, icy eyes focused on Hero.

His voice echoed off the expanse of emptiness. “What did you do?”

Supervillain let out a pleased sigh. “I changed the world Hero,” he said. “All I wanted was for the powerful and the powerless to live in harmony with each other. I didn’t want all the bloodshed.”

“You’re a liar.”

“Believe what you want,” he replied with a shrug. He started towards Hero, and Hero braced themselves, lowering their centre of gravity, ready for a blow, but Supervillain just put a hand on Hero’s shoulder. Hero stiffened, straightening. Supervillain’s eyes were sympathetic and kind. “It doesn’t matter anymore now. I won, Hero, and I’m finally ready for you to see my new world.”

Hero blinked. “What?”

Supervillain continued walking past Hero, and Hero turned to follow them. “I had you in stasis for a few months,” Supervillain said. Hero paused, frowning, and the expanse wasn’t just white anymore. There was a black dot faraway that Supervillain was walking towards, leading them towards. “Just while I crafted the new world to my liking.”

“What!” Hero demanded, panic gripping their chest. “But you just— we were just at the stage, at the—”

“Heroes Guild?” Supervillain asked with a chuckle, shaking his head almost fondly. “That was months ago now, Hero. Or was it a year?”

A year.

A year?

Supervillain looked over his shoulder, blue eyes capturing Hero’s in his. “Grieves kept you alive here. I didn’t want you to suffer so I asked him to make sure you wouldn’t remember anything until I was ready to release you.”

Hero swallowed the lump in their throat. Supervillain was beside the black dot now, but it was a door. How did they get here so fast? When were they moving? Wasn’t Hero standing still? Hero’s frowned deepened.

Hero shook their head. “I don’t want to go. I— leave me here, please. Leave me so I don’t remember anything.”

Supervillain shook his head sadly. “I want you to see my new world, Hero. See what you fought so hard to stop, see that the fighting wasn’t worth it at all.”

The door was open. Supervillain was stepping through. “No! No!” Hero protested as Supervillain grabbed Hero’s wrist and dragged them through the open door into more whiteness. “No! Leave me! Leave me here! Please!”

Hero woke gasping, shooting straight up in their bed and clutching at the sweat soaked sheets. Their eyes darted around the room, looking for Supervillain, but they didn’t have to look far. Hero skittered back on the bed, shivering as they stared at Supervillain’s icy, smiling eyes.

“Hello Hero,” he said with his friendly voice. Hero swallowed, their eyes shooting to the door but there Grieves stood, glare fixed on Hero.

“Sleeping beauty finally awakes,” Grieves grumbled. Hero gasped, their chest beating in fretful staccatos, jumping and falling and plunging and pushing.

It’s a nightmare. This is just a nightmare and Hero will wake up and they’ll— they’ll—

Superhero’s face flashed behind Hero’s eyes. Hero’s eyes blew wide and they lunged forward, gripping the edge of the bed and threw up everything in their stomach which wasn’t much. Mostly bile and water.

They heard Grieves moan in disgust distantly as Hero shuddered, another wave of warmth climbing their throat as the battle came back to them in terrifying, vivid clarity.

The war… Vigilante… Teleport… they had lost. They— they lost, and Supervillain— a hand on their back and Hero flinched but they couldn’t move, afraid that if they did it would anger their stomach again and they didn’t want to throw up on the bed.

“That’s it, Hero,” Supervillain said warmly. “Get it out.”

Hero couldn’t reply before they were getting sick again, and then, somehow, they knew they were finished. They wiped their mouth with the back of their hand and sat up, shaking. Supervillain smiled at them.

“Here, sip some water. I’ll get someone to clean that up.” Supervillain said, pushing a glass to Hero’s lips. Hero blinked rapidly, steadying the glass with their two hands and tentatively taking a sip. The water was cool going down their throat, and pleasant. It washed away the taste of bile and acid and Hero wanted to swallow the whole thing, but Supervillain pulled the glass away. “Easy, Hero. If you gulp it down you’ll just throw it up,” he told them.

Hero sat back away from Supervillain’s outstretched hands, away from the water and glared at him.

“Come now, Hero. You could hurt my feelings with that look.”

“I will kill you,” Hero promised, their voice croaking from disuse, but the words were heavy, weighted with a vow that Hero would follow until their dying day. Or until Supervillain’s, whichever came first. Supervillain chuckled and leaned away, setting the glass of water on the table beside the bed.

“You can try,” Supervillain said with a shrug, crossing one leg over the other and clasping his hands on his thighs. Comfortable. Relaxed. As if Hero wasn’t a threat like this.

Because you’re not.

As if they were two friends catching up on lost time. Hero was new to Supervillain’s changed world. They didn’t even know what he did, let alone what his power was. This new world he promised, Hero wouldn’t be able to navigate it properly if he didn’t show them around. All they knew was that Supervillain killed Superhero and Hero would kill him for it.

Eventually.

After a brief adjustment period.

“No?” Supervillain asked, dipping his head to catch Hero’s eyes again. Hero swallowed the dryness in their throat. “Well then, perhaps we can have breakfast together. I can show you around.”

“How lo—” Hero’s voice broke and they coughed, trying to clear the clog. Supervillain grabbed the glass of water off the table and reached it towards Hero. Hero shook their head initially, but their throat was raw, burning and they took the glass from his hands. They almost dropped it immediately, and would have too, if not for Supervillain’s hand catching the bottom on his open palm.

“Sip,” Supervillain said, scoldingly. Hero gripped the glass with two shaky hands. They continued coughing and they couldn’t lift the glass from Supervillain’s hand, so Supervillain moved leaning forwards as Hero hacked. He was beside them in the bed, a hand on the back of Hero’s neck, cool and clammy against Hero’s burning skin and Hero hated how good it felt.

Hero leaned in and sipped some of the water. It settled the burning slightly and all too quickly Supervillain pulled away. Hero cleared their throat as best as they could, and Supervillain waited, patiently, until Hero nodded and Supervillain brought the glass back to Hero’s lips and they repeated the process.

They felt disgusting having their enemy so close to them, having to need his help to fucking drink water because their body was weak. Their muscles atrophied.

“Enough?” Supervillain asked and Hero nodded. Supervillain’s thumb ran over the back of Hero’s neck. “Good.”

He moved on the bed, getting off and letting his contact with Hero drop which Hero was grateful for. Their body was exhausted from that little exertion. They leaned back against the wall and watched as Supervillain placed the glass on the table again.

“How long?” Hero asked, their voice a little stronger than before. Supervillain smiled a little, as if Hero told a stupid joke.

“It’s coming up to the year anniversary since the world changed.”

The confirmation hit them like a train to the chest, like a bowling ball was dropped from the empire state building into their stomach from their ribs, far too heavy and crushing to comprehend.

“What?” Hero asked with a breath, tears pinpricking the backs of their eyes. “You left me in stasis for a—” they swallowed back a sob, “a year?”

Supervillain shrugged, turning his back to Hero and walking to the wardrobe beside the door. “It was necessary, Hero. I needed to solidify my hold on the world, make sure the memory was ingrained deep enough that it would take, and work to destroy records and such.” Supervillain continued, hangers clanging together as he looked through the clothes.

Hero swallowed. Was their brain slow or was Supervillain talking nonsense? “What do you mean ‘make sure the memory was ingrained?’ What did you do?”

Supervillain paused in his movements. He cast a glance back at Hero who was barely hanging onto their threads of consciousness and he started to laugh. Hero wished he were dead in that moment. They longed to grab their swords and spear them through his stupid throat and his lungs, and keep stabbing until he stopped breathing.

“Oh, Hero. I completely forgot. I never did tell you my power, did I?”

Hero blinked at him. They wouldn’t give Supervillain a show. They refused.

Supervillain smiled and turned to face Hero, two hangers with clothes in his hands. His smile was wide and dashing, and pleased and friendly. “I have the ability to alter memories.”

Hero stared. “What?”

Supervillain continued towards Hero, laying the clothes out on the bed. A hoodie and a tracksuit. Neither of which were particularly interesting to Hero at that moment. Supervillain set the clothes down and sat down on his chair again beside Hero’s bed.

“I altered the world’s memories of Heroes and Villains, of powers and the powerless. I made it normal for some people to be born with powers, and didn’t try and hide it from the world like Superhero wanted.” Supervillain said, his eyes glinting with corrupt pleasure, like he was enjoying seeing Hero’s entire world shatter on their face.

“And you know what, Hero?” He said leaning in. “Nobody batted an eye about it.”

“No fucking shit!” Hero seethed, leaning forwards despite their body groaning at them for the effort. “You altered their memories so they wouldn’t bat an eye about it, you dick!” Supervillain chuckled. It chilled Hero to the core.

“No, Hero,” he said softly, shaking his head. “You don’t understand. It’s hard to implement memories that people don’t already want to accept. Well, granted, it’s harder but still do-able. Although, you’ll be happy to know that Superhero’s idea of revealing powered individuals while maintaining their secret identities, made it an easier pill to swallow.”

Hero glared at him, clenching their teeth to stop themselves from screaming, their fingers curling into fists by their sides.

“You can’t just make the everyone forget about our past! The war, the heroes—”

“Oh, yes I can, Hero. Not alone. That’s what the amplifier was for.”

Hero frowned. Amplifier? Their mind scratched back to yesterday— no… it wasn’t yesterday. It was only yesterday to them. But Hero remembered when Supervillain was on stage, Villain keeping Hero on their knees at the back and the— “the boy.”

“Yes. The boy. We had to look high and low to find him, but find him we did. Everything had to go to plan otherwise the war would be for nothing.”

“Why would he help you?” Hero demanded.

Supervillain leaned back into his seat. “Because he wanted to protect his family from it.”

The two of them fell silent. Hero was struggling to fight back tears at Supervillain’s casualness. They wished they believed that Supervillain was lying. They wished they could hope that he was, but Hero knew. They knew that Supervillain was telling the truth, and that fact was attempting to swallow them whole.

“Did you protect them?” Hero whispered.

“I did.” And Hero knew that was true too. It didn’t make them feel better about it. “But that’s not the important thing I want to show you, Hero,” Supervillain continued with a small smile. “I’m sure you’re wondering about what happened to the rest of your heroes, hmm?”

Hero’s heart lurched in their chest. No, they weren’t, and they were horrible for nothing thinking about them, but their mind was so focused on Vigilante, would he remember them? Would he still… would they still?… Fresh tears pricked Hero’s eyes, both from guilt and an overwhelming amount of pain at Vigilante’s possible altered state.

Could Supervillain make him forget about their relationship? Their love? Icy eyes drank in Hero’s obvious hurt and helpless grief. He couldn’t imagine waking up after a year and being told the world has changed.

“Please…” Hero whispered, tears falling down their cheeks as they raised their head. “Please make me forget.”

“No,” Supervillain said softly. Hero fisted their hands in the bedsheets.

“Why?!”

“Because Hero, I need someone who doesn’t agree with me to keep me in check.”

“Maybe you should have thought about that before you murdered Superhero!” Hero seethed. Supervillain’s expression darkened.

“Hmph, yes. Well, Superhero would be far too meddlesome. He would have found a way to undo all my work.”

“And I won’t?”

Supervillain smiled. “No, Hero. You won’t. I have you tangled in a web that you don’t even realise yet. But, don’t worry, I am willing to show you. As soon as you are dressed.”

Hero glared at him. They weren’t ready to see the new world. They didn’t want to go with Supervillain.

“Can’t you put me back in stasis?” Hero asked, their voice a harsh, breathy wish. Supervillain’s smile turned sad. Hero swallowed the lump in their throat, their nostrils flaring as their eyes drifted to the stupid, ugly tracksuit bottoms and hoodie.

“I want a shower.”

“You can have a shower.” Hero nodded. “I had a wet chair placed in the shower for you. I don’t want you fainting on me.”

The forethought that Supervillain had put into Hero’s awakening turned their stomach. Why had he thought of everything? Considered every possible discomfort and ensured Hero wouldn’t feel it? How long had he been planning this?

“Are you ready?” Supervillain asked, standing and extending his hand to Hero. Hero didn’t look at him, didn’t reply, but they grabbed his hand and let him help them towards a door in the corner of the room. He opened it and helped Hero in, and Hero didn’t apologise or care that much that they were leaning all of their weight on Supervillain. Their legs were numb and unused to carrying the load of their torso.

Hero saw the chair eventually, alert eyes scanning the shower, searching for a razor or something g that would let them hurt themselves but of course, there was nothing. Hero shrugged the thought away mentally, they could always slam their head against the ground until they were dead.

Supervillain set them down in the chair. “I won’t insult you by staying, so I have made a couple other safety measures.”

Supervillain pulled a pair of cuffs from his pockets and Hero recoiled, but their body was too slow and weak to respond, to fight against Supervillain as he cuffed their left arm to the right arm rest of the chair. He did the same with Hero’s ankles and Hero didn’t fight him anymore. They didn’t have the energy to fight a battle they knew they wouldn’t win.

“How will I take my clothes off genius?” Supervillain smiled. He held up a scissors and Hero rolled their eyes. “Of course.”

“I won’t look,” Supervillain said kindly, as if that made a difference. As if it would be less humiliating for him to cuff them and cut their clothes just enough so Hero could shimmy out of them in their current state with only one hand free.

“I can’t do anything like this,” Hero said through clenched teeth.

“You needn’t worry, Hero. Grieves made sure you were clean, he let you do the essentials like drink water and use the toilet.”

“Couldn’t have let me eat during that time, no?”

Supervillain dipped his chin back. “You and I both know how resourceful you are. What if you accidentally brushed Grieves and his power failed? You will be fine with just this for today. You’ll understand more about your time in stasis later, but you can rest assured, you’re not dirty.”

With that Supervillain turned the water on and left. It was refreshingly warm, not too hot or cold. Just enough that it returned some heat to Hero’s body that seemed to be seeping from every pore. Slowly they removed the shirt, which was hanging only by the loop of the collar, up and over their head and let the water touch their bare skin.

They sat in the water motionless for they didn’t know how long, long enough for their fingers to prune and only then did they open their eyes. A shelf was near their left hand and on it some shampoo and conditioner and soap. Hero rubbed it everywhere, too tired to try and fight to take off their trousers, they just slipped the soap bar underneath and scrubbed until their skin was red raw.

A knock at the door after Hero was done. “Are you finished?”

Hero thought about not answering him. “Hero?”

“Yes.”

Supervillain walked in and turned off the tap, his eyes closed and wrapped the towel around Hero’s chest. Hero wrapped it further, and told him it was okay to look when their modesty was satisfied. Supervillain unlocked their cuffs and escorted the dripping Hero back to their bed, the towel wrapped firmly around them now. It was soft, white and fluffy.

“I already laid out your clothes. I’ll turn around,” Supervillain said once Hero was sitting on their bed again.

“I assume you can’t make yourself new memories.”

“In the same way I doubt you can negate your own abilities, no. Why?”

Hero picked up the tracksuit, their nose scrunching with disgust. “Shame you can’t just make yourself memories of being stylish.”

Supervillain laughed. Hero glared at his back as they pulled on the half zip hoodie. “Of all the things you have to be angry at me for, Hero. I didn’t think fashion would factor into it.”

“Don’t worry,” Hero answered, yanking their trackies up their legs and tying the drawstring. They were annoyingly comfortable and soft. “I have plenty of anger to go around. And fashion always comes into it.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“Do I get shoes?”

“Are you finished?” Supervillain asked. Hero half expected him to turn but he didn’t until Hero said, yeah, I’m done.

“You won’t need shoes for the time being.”

Hero stared at him. “Do you seriously think I’m in any state to run away?”

“Hero,” he said, gently scolding. A tone that set Hero’s teeth on edge. “You can’t even stand up by yourself. I have a wheelchair for you.”

Hero paused, frown drawing their features down. “I am not going around in a wheelchair!”

“It’s either that or I carry you like a child, Hero. It’s your choice.” Supervillain shot them a look and Hero glared back. They didn’t need a wheelchair. They could— Hero could stand up on their own! And they would fucking prove it.

Hero didn’t break eye contact as they grabbed the headboard of the bed and pushed themselves up to shaky feet. Supervillain watched them, saw their shaking muscles and weak legs and their determination as they took a step.

Their ankle folded and Hero almost fell but they caught themselves and let out a startled: “wait!” to stop Supervillain from swooping in and saving them from falling flat on their face. Hero swallowed and pushed themselves back up, sweating from the effort as they pulled themselves to their full height, wobbling only slightly as they lifted their burning gaze to meet Supervillain’s.

“See? I’m fine.”

“I’ll carry you then,” Supervillain said with a shrug, starting towards them. “It makes no difference to me. I just thought you’d want to retain some semblance of dignity.”

Hero backed up. Fear immediately wiping away the determination from before and Hero stumbled back, falling onto the bed and kicking up a leg to keep Supervillain back but he kept coming.

“OKAY! OKAY! Fine! I’ll— the wheelchair,” they said, trying to smother their panic with rage. They hadn’t felt this weak in… well, ever, and it scared them more than Supervillain did. “I’ll take the wheelchair.”

As if on cue there came a knock on the door. Supervillain straightened with his chilling, friendly smile, his eyes twinkling with an awful knowing that turned Hero’s stomach.

“Enter.”

The door opened and a wheelchair rolled through. Supervillain stepped out of Hero’s line of sight so they could get a full view of the door as Grieves walked through, grinning at Hero, followed by a familiar head of jet black hair.

“Medic?” Hero whispered, surprised they could get that word together with the lack of oxygen in their chest. Medic looked at Hero and no recognition flashed across his face. He was wearing an apron, with a bucket and a mop. His eyes narrowed when he saw Hero.

“Who are you?”

“Medic,” Grieves chastised and Medic winced. Grieves turned and placed a hand on Medic’s shoulder. “Don’t be rude.”

“Don’t touch him!” Hero growled, shooting to their feet. The world swam and they grabbed the headboard for support, but Supervillain caught them and started pulling them away, towards the wheelchair.

Medic’s eyes turned quizzical as they caught Hero’s, frowning as Supervillain turned Hero and shoved them into the chair. Hero’s lips curled back into a snarl, about to curse Supervillain out of it when Supervillain shot them a look, his icy eyes freezing Hero in their defiance.

“Would you like the same treatment as the shower or will you behave?”

“You’re a fucking monster,” Hero spat, tears welling up on their lower lids, blurring edges into colours and shapes. Supervillain didn’t move, his expression didn’t change.

“Will you behave?”

Hero grabbed the arm rests of the wheelchair, arms shaking from their white knuckled grip. They couldn’t answer, not verbally, so they nodded stiffly. Once up and once down, almost imperceptible, but Supervillain saw.

“Good,” he said, and Hero could hear the smile in his voice. Medic walked past Hero towards the vomit by the bed and set the bucket down, dunking the mop in. That’s all Hero saw before Supervillain turned their chair.

Grieves was by the door, arms behind his back, a grin on his papery face. Hero glared at him as Supervillain wheeled them out the door, their face flooding with shame. Only when they saw that the hallway was empty did they let the helpless tears fall.

Hero would right this, they vowed.

They would fix everything. They’d kill Supervillain and Grieves, and Villain and all other villains that were conscious to the change— the ones that remembered the old world — but first, they needed to get their strength back.

They needed to learn how the new world worked. They had to play nice with Supervillain while they learned exactly what this world they had woken to was. What a world looked like in Supervillain’s image.

If Grieves had Medic, he probably had Teleport too, but Hero couldn’t know until they saw her with him. And if Grieves had them, then Villain probably had…

Hero swallowed. Surely Vigilante would remember them? Medic and Hero were friends, but— but isn’t love supposed to survive every trial? Hero stared at their knees dejectedly. If Supervillain wiped everyone’s minds… nobody, none of the heroes or Hero’s friends would remember who they are. They’d just think Hero’s another of Supervillain’s generals.

“Does anyone remember me?” Hero asked. Their voice came out so quiet that even Hero wondered if they had asked a question out loud at all.

“No,” Supervillain replied, just as gentle as before. “Superhero is a villain in their eyes, the darkest days of our lives, so I wouldn’t try and cosy up to them by throwing his name around either.”

Hero sucked in a breath. “Did you enslave every hero?”

Supervillain chuckled. “Not all of them. My generals got their first picks. You can guess who Grieves chose.”

Hero clenched their jaw. “You did that on purpose.”

“I did.”

“Why?!” Hero demanded, slamming their palm on the arm rest of the wheelchair.

There was a pause. Supervillain stopped walking. Hero’s heart thumped loud in their chest. They felt Supervillain remove his hands from the chair, and he walked around to the front of Hero. Hero refused to look at him, but it didn’t matter. Supervillain tilted Hero’s chin up with the pads of his index and middle finger, until Hero’s eyes met piercing blue.

“I want you to acclimatise to your new life quickly Hero. Superhero would have run around and tried to form connections and rally his friends in vain to revolt against me. I want you to know that that idea will not be tolerated.” Hero felt their eyes burn with hot, frustrated tears that they refused to let fall. “And it won’t be you who is punished for your insolence.”

Supervillain leaned down, his hands going to the armrests of the chair, fingers wrapping around Hero’s wrists and pinning them as Hero shrunk back in the chair. Supervillain stopped a hair’s breath away from Hero’s face.

“It will be your friends. Medic and Teleport, and the little traitor Vigilante.” Hero struggled against Supervillain’s grip in vain, their blood rushing like a waterfall in their ears, deafening. “And I’ll make you watch as they are hurt for your petty defiance. Do I make myself clear, Hero?”

Hero was shaking. Their lips shut resolutely. Supervillain squeezed their wrists in warning. “Hero.”

“Yes.” Hero hissed. Supervillain smiled, leaning back. Hero swallowed the lump in their throat, grabbing their wrists and putting them in their lap when Supervillain pulled away.

“Good,” he said, chipper and happy. His mood changing as suddenly as a day became a year for Hero. “Let’s get some breakfast then. All this excitement has me working up an appetite,” he said, and he was pushing Hero’s wheelchair through the halls again, as if he didn’t threaten everyone Hero loved.

Everyone Hero loved. People who didn’t remember them anymore. The only person they had vaguely on their side right now was Supervillain, much to their chagrin, but that’s the way it was and would be until Hero was strong enough to fight back.

First, breakfast.

Then they could figure out a plan.

Find Vigilante and they could fall in love all over again, if that’s what it takes… Hero was ready to abandon being a hero during the war for Vigilante, they could do it again now. Stop being a hero and just find Vigilante and be happy.

It would be what Supervillain wanted. What Supervillain asked of them; Not to be an upstart like Superhero, not to fight back futilely. Hero closed their eyes and let Supervillain push them through unfamiliar halls.

They could do this. They would survive this.

End of Arc 1

*~*~*~*~*

Continued here

Orphanage roll-call: @micechomper @aarika-merrill @silentpotat0 @dutifullykrispyland @gloriousqueen101

GUUUYYYYSSS!!!! It’s finally gotten to the part of the story where the title makes sense now~ hehe, also, would recommend for those that want little tidbits/sneak hints/easter eggs I would listen to Jann’s song Gladiator on Spotify for the clues to the next arc of the story

Thank you for reading my happy fic, I love you all so much cause this one’s special, my poor lil baby, Hero is all alone :( with only their nemesis for safety and comfort :(

[cinnamon-roll-whump]

Previous

thanks again to @melkors-defense-attorney for the cane idea!

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Tulkas stands by the door, impatient, arms folded over his chest. Melkor feels very small as he moves about the cottage, gathering his things. He can't help the last time thoughts running through his mind at everything. This is the last time he'll make his bed. The last time he'll see some of these clothes. The last time he'll walk through this doorway, clean these dishes in the sink, run his fingers over the back of this chair.

He finds a bag to put a few things in. A change of clothes, Anna's water and food bowls. He doesn't have much.

The absurdity of it strikes him, and he stifles a dry laugh. Here he is, preparing mundanely for a simple journey, as if he's a craftsman or trader preparing to go to market, when the reality is that he runs the risk of losing everything.

"Anna, sweetie!" He calls her softly, and she runs over from where she was investigating a few books. He ties a long strip of leather to her collar, the leash he spent so long crafting and making sure she was accustomed to. His hand rests for a moment on her head, and she pushes into the touch. "Good kitten."

"Enough delay," Tulkas snaps. "You have your things, let's go."

"Of course." Melkor frowns, standing. Anna follows him over to the door. Carefully, watching Tulkas's face, he reaches behind the other Vala. Tulkas glares daggers at him, but Melkor keeps his movements slow and pulls back holding a tall wooden staff. It's simple, but sturdy, and has served him well.

"What's that for?" Tulkas eyes it warily.

"Walking," Melkor replies. He kneels down to tie Anna's leash over a small ridge on the base that he'd left there for just this purpose. It'll give her a few feet more of length than if he held the leash in his hand.

"Walking?" Tulkas repeats in confusion.

Melkor keeps his tone even, detached. "I spent so long in the Void, my muscles began to atrophy. I had to relearn many things when I was released, and I am still unable to traverse significant distances unaffected. I do not need it in my house, but if I grow tired of being cooped up or I run out of food for Anna and must visit the village, I cannot manage that distance unassisted yet."

He sees Tulkas frown, then his eyes go wide as he realizes just how little the distance from Melkor's home to the village is. A mere mile or so that the once-great Vala cannot manage without support.

"So." Melkor forces a firmness he does not feel into his voice and grips his staff tighter. "Now you see one of the reasons I did not want to return to Valinor. I hope you'll forgive me that we’ll need to stop often, as the other option is you carrying me, and I think neither of us would enjoy that."

Tulkas grunts in reluctant acknowledgement and pushes the door open. Melkor walks through without a word, Anna scampering at his heels.

How was he so lucky as to find this little blessing? His sweet girl, so loyal, and almost as clever as his Mairon. If he were still lord of Angband, he can imagine watching Anna run circles around Mairon's favorite wolfhounds. He'd make sure they played gently with his little kitten, and in the evenings, when a hound slept on either side of their bed, Anna, so much smaller, could share their pillow or sleep cuddled up with a hound.

His chest aches with longing, deep desire for what can never be again, for the Maia he cannot touch or speak to without the risk of having his life ripped away again. It's too much.

"I need to stop." Melkor's voice grates against his own ears, and he's hardly conscious of anything but the hard wood of his staff sliding through his palms as he sinks to the ground.

Paws press against his thigh, and then with the soft pricking of claws, Anna climbs into his lap, purring for all she's worth. Still clutching his staff with one hand, he moves the other to her head, thumb brushing lightly over her ears. The tension in his chest begins to ease, the cold hand of dread loosening its grip. Manwë is a fair judge. He won't send Melkor to the Void again for something that wasn't his fault. And he won't punish Anna for Melkor's mistakes.

But what about my Mairon?

Melkor stands slowly, one arm holding Anna close to his chest, and looks towards Valinor. Come what may, this time he will save what matters.

[theghostofmaddy]

I’m so sorry if this is also anyone else’s experience. Being chronically ill and in pain around your parents who have the “get older and then you’ll actually feel real pain.” Mindset, is actually the fucking worst. Especially if you have a parent that who has pain too. Like we’re in the same damn boat but you have absolutely no sympathy for me just because I’m 25 and my pain “can’t be worse than yours” because I’m “so young”.

It’s so lonely feeling immense pain and having everyone around you (whom you just need support from) tell you to get over it and that you “don’t know real pain yet”. Some days I feel so shitty I do not see the point anymore, it really doesn’t help when some days all I need is someone to say I’m doing a good job of fighting this, that they see me, that they care, anything other than “you probably didn’t take your meds” or “I don’t know why you think you’re in that much pain.”

Middle aged/older adults really love to gate-keep being able to express that you are in pain and gain support if you are younger. If you’re a parent who has a ill child and you ignore their pain and belittle it like that, sorry but you are someone who obviously only gives a shit about your own experience and your kid deserves better.

[nancylfitness]

Flex, Stretch and Compute

As we sit at the computer our shoulders are usually forward and we are hunched over for extended periods of time.  Our bodies are not designed to sit all day. Sitting for long periods of time (10 hours or more per day) has a negative effect on health: circulation decreases, muscles tire, and tasks become more uncomfortable to perform.

It can cause pain and tightness in the back and neck, tingling in the extremities and poor posture. 

Also, sitting after eating a meal causes high blood sugar spikes. Instead move around after eating to cut the sugar spikes in half … move around, clean the kitchen, walk the dog.

Incorrect computer posture habits combined with long-term sitting may cause medical problems such as:  cumulative trauma disorder (CTD) or repetitive stress injury (RSI).

Reduce these effects of long term sitting; take breaks; switch things up:

Below are examples of some exercises / stretches that can be performed without leaving your desk area.  Set your timer to take breaks and go for it!  Start small and slowly work your way up to more movement.

Neck Flexors, Sitting or Standing

Stand (or sit) head comfortable in a centered position.

Draw in chin pulling head straight back.  Keep jaw and eyes level.

Hold this position for 5 to 7 seconds.  Release. 

Repeat.

Side/Torso – Standing Bend

Stand with feet together and palms overhead touching.

Bend body to one side as far as possible.

Hold 5 to 7 seconds.

Resume original position.

Bend body to the other side as far as possible.

Hold 5 to 7 seconds.

Resume original position.

Chest Scapula Adduction with Pectorals

Stand in a doorframe, palms against frame and arms at 90 degrees.

Lean forward, squeezing shoulder blades together.

Hold 7 to 10 seconds.

Release, then repeat.

Hip Flexors/Quadriceps Stretch

Stand, may use chair as a support.

Slowly bend left leg feeling the stretch.

Hold for 7 to 10 seconds.

Release.

Repeat with other leg.

Dorsiflexion and Plantar Flexion, sitting

Sitting with feet on the floor.

Point toes up while keeping heels on the floor.

Hold position 5 to 7 seconds.

Now, press toes to the floor while raising heels.

Hold position 5 to 7 seconds.

Repeat several times.

Upper/Mid Back Stretch, sitting

Sitting in chair with knees apart, bend forward toward the floor.

Feel the stretch in the lower back.

Hold 7 to 10seconds.

Sit upright.

Repeat.

[mandana-the-service-pup]

⚠️ TW: Body Image // Neglect In Healthcare ⚠️

💛

🧡

❤️

Monday will be my third attempt to try to get answers about my muscle loss. I don’t think these doctors understand how scary this is for me. I’ve been thin all of my life but even at my lightest I didn’t have this much muscle loss. Maybe it’s just a mental thing but it’s happening so fast that I feel like I’m watching it progress over the course of months. I’m hoping this image comparison will be shocking enough to get them to take me seriously bc I truly don’t know what else I can say to get the point across.

[numerousenbees]

so my cat seems to have muscle atrophy-

his front paw is a bald spot, the back leg-that is literally his bone and skin. both backlegs are like that

google doesnt have similar photos tho

[munaeem]

How Much Protein Do You Really Need?

To maintain muscle mass, you should tailor your daily protein intake to your specific circumstances. These include your age, weight, and activity level. However, there are some general guidelines to consider: General Recommendations The Recommended Dietary Allowance (RDA) for protein is 0.8 grams per kilogram of body weight, or about 0.36 grams per pound[1]. However, this is considered the…

[creativeera]

Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis Treatment: Current Perspectives on Amyotrophic Sclerosis Treatment

What is Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis Treatment? Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS), also known as Lou Gehrig's disease, is a progressive neurodegenerative disease that affects nerve cells in the brain and spinal cord. The motor neurons, which are responsible for controlling voluntary muscle movement, gradually die in people with ALS. When the motor neurons die, it becomes very difficult to control muscle movement and eventually the muscles weaken and waste away. ALS usually affects people between the ages of 40 to 70 years. About 5-10% of ALS cases are considered familial, meaning they run in families. Most ALS cases are sporadic with no known family history. Men are slightly more likely than women to develop ALS. It is estimated that about 20,000 Americans may have the disease at any given time. Symptoms of ALS typically include slurred speech, muscle weakness, twitching or cramping, difficulty swallowing or breathing, and impaired walking or use of arms and hands. Most people with ALS lose their ability to speak, eat, move, and breathe within 3 to 5 years of diagnosis. The disease progresses differently in each individual and life expectancy can vary widely, with some people living for up to 10 years or more after symptoms first appear. Unfortunately, at this time there is no cure for ALS. Current Treatment Options While there is currently no cure for Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis Treatment, some treatments can help manage symptoms and quality of life for people living with the disease. The most common drug treatments for ALS include riluzole, edaravone, and dextromethorphan/quinidine. Riluzole (Rilutek) was the first FDA-approved drug for ALS in 1995. It is believed to work by blocking glutamate, a neurotransmitter that appears to play a role in motor neuron death. Riluzole has been shown to modestly extend survival by 2 to 3 months on average. Side effects may include nausea, fatigue, and liver problems. Edaravone (Radicava) was approved in 2017 as the second drug shown to slow functional decline in ALS. Clinical trials found edaravone reduced motor function decline over 6 months compared to a placebo. It is believed to work as an antioxidant, protecting cells from free radical damage. Side effects are generally mild and may include bruising, headache, and edema. Dextromethorphan/quinidine (Nuedexta) received FDA approval in 2011 as an add-on treatment for pseudobulbar affect, a condition that causes involuntary and unpredictable laughing or crying episodes unrelated to a person's feelings or mood. While not a treatment specifically for ALS motor symptoms, it can help manage this distressing symptom that sometimes occurs with ALS. Common side effects include diarrhea, nausea, dizziness, and vomiting. In addition to medications, other treatments that may help manage ALS symptoms include physical and occupational therapy to maintain mobility and function for as long as possible. Speech therapy can help address swallowing and speaking difficulties. Respiratory therapy and mechanical ventilation support, such as non-invasive ventilation, may improve breathing problems and quality of life. Nutritional supplements or feeding tubes help address weight loss or difficulty swallowing. Braces, walkers, and wheelchairs provide mobility assistance as needed. Stem Cell and Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis Treatment Exciting new avenues of research are exploring the potential of stem cell and gene therapies for ALS. Several clinical trials are investigating various approaches with the goal of replacing lost motor neurons or protecting and preserving existing motor neurons. One promising area involves transplanting motor neuron progenitor cells, stem cells that can develop into motor neurons, directly into the spinal cord. Early phase trials have begun testing the safety and potential benefits of this approach. Another trial is looking at transplanting olfactory bulb stem cells, which naturally migrate to the brain, into the lumbar region of the spinal cord. Get more insights on Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis Treatment

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Priya Pandey is a dynamic and passionate editor with over three years of expertise in content editing and proofreading. Holding a bachelor's degree in biotechnology, Priya has a knack for making the content engaging. Her diverse portfolio includes editing documents across different industries, including food and beverages, information and technology, healthcare, chemical and materials, etc. Priya's meticulous attention to detail and commitment to excellence make her an invaluable asset in the world of content creation and refinement.

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[volvolts]

i have this headcanon that baby philip used to play with animal bones and caleb made him the mask in hopes that it'll stop him from touching bones (it didnt)

also bonus evelyn

[pangur-and-grim]

I am FINALLY at the stage where I can walk without my aircast, but it’s painful in a way I didn’t expect? the sole of my foot has become so tender that it hurts to walk on. it’s also texturally different (less thick hard skin) so maybe I’ve just developed soft sensitive baby feet from not walking on it for two months? very interesting

[darethshirl]

solavellan, slow burn

She afforded him such patience.

He could feel it in her careful gaze, with its glancing touch, its featherlight weight. Lavellan always approached him by the side, her silent hunter's gait turned politely audible to avoid any surprises. She always waited for him to turn first—even when he took his time with it, when he was so lost in thought or avoidant meditation that even her courteous noises didn't stir him—before smiling at him. And lastly, always, she had something to offer him: a bowl of stew, gone lukewarm but still hearty; a skein of water, its droplets reminding his throat that it was parched; a flower, for him to sketch. Or a leaf, or a pebble, anything and everything that showed beauty, tiny things bravely surviving that only an appreciative eye would notice. A kind eye.

He accepted them, each and every time. Even when his stomach tightened with hollow guilt, his eyes stinging with tears that burned half in anger, half in sorrow—he couldn't help it. He opened his palms, fingertips grazing hers, and took.

Weak, his mind scolded him, a poisonous truth laced in self-hatred. He used to fight back against the accusation, concoct elaborate justifications that rose sky-high like towers with faulty foundations, doomed to fall. Let it not be said he ever shied away from impossible, self-defeating odds.

But he knew better now. Kindness was by far the trickier trap, filling up his gnawing hunger the way meat did the slavering wolf. Having already succumbed to it, did it matter if he indulged? So he allowed himself to overflow with it, to pay it forward. He offered cupped hands of his own, crude mugs made of thick clay still radiating warmth. He healed with extra diligence, his magic delving deep, his fingers lingering. He listened, and watched, and paid attention, letting his gaze grow heavy with the full weight of his consideration. And she deserved consideration. Every twist of her expression, every thought revealed, confessed—it all deserved to be noticed, and catalogued, and appreciated with an artist's eye. His eye.

The mountain rose steep ahead of them, white and ancient, and still he watched. Lavellan's shoulders drooped from exhaustion but her chin was raised high, her capable legs bringing her upwards even as wounds plagued her ribs. Solas's hand hovered over the small of her back, not touching, ready to stabilize her if need be. Haven lay ruined at their backs, its smoke and ash already dispersed; Skyhold waited for them ahead, a gift unasked for with his signature expunged, all at once too much and not nearly enough.

It would have to do.

[whump-galaxy]

A character’s arms being tied above their head for so long that their arms dislocate and eventually their muscles atrophy.

[swiiivet-screamathon]

"Ah-- shit shit shit-- Milky I need a hand--!"

"What have gotten you so bold now then?"

"I don't have time for your snark-- just come help!!"

"Or else?"

"You're responsible for cleaning up two 10 kilos worth of wafflebot ingredients--"

"This problem isn't my fault! Can't just put that on me, tut tut."

"I thoroughly do not ca-- arGH-!!!! Get down here!!!"

"Fine, fine, what do you need?"

"That crank, pull it now, as hard as you can--"

He raises his staff--

"No no, not magic, it will break it all--!"

"Huh? How the hell is that supposed to work?"

"STOP ASKING AND PULL IT--"

He floats down and apprehensively grabs onto it.

"HURRY!??"

He gives a glare to Crepe, but pulls it... And tries again-- whoo-wee is he going for it.

"Holy-- Okay just magic this thing up, be careful and do not move it at all."

Smilk glares again at Crepe but lets go, and does way wave his wand-- a set of strings get summoned that holds the collapsing wafflebot in place and Crepe quickly sprints over to pull the lever, that pulls with no resistance whatever. With the switch it enables some mobile poles that hold up the machine.

"Phew-- wait hold on-- no don't leave I know you're about to. I'm not judging you."

"I think you should be grateful enough that I saved your little project regardless of your earlier audacity."

"I am, I really am, genuinely thank you for helping me. But apparently there's some safety hazards that needs to be discussed if you don't want me to kick you out."

"... You dare threaten me?"

"It's not a threat, it's for everyone's safety here-- There's a lot of physical work that goes on here, if something falls on you and you can't lift it off you that's a hazard that PV will never let go. This is essentially a construction zone, you know that right?"

"I've got no reason to stay here if you want to follow through with it. In fact I can level this entire place if I'd so choose."

"Sigh, look, I know you're a secretive stubborn twat, but if you didn't want to be here we wouldn't have constructed an entire floating capsule for you to live in, so I have to do my due diligence to make sure no work accidents occur, or else we both get kicked out. Do you have a physical disability?"

"And here I thought you good guys would have more-- tact, than that."

"Shadow Milk, I know you like avoiding personal questions but this one has to be answered today; do you want me to go tell Vanilla to get you to talk or will you answer me right now?"

"... Not what I'm aware."

"Okay, so your inability to pull a very light and greased lever is just a lack of exercise?"

"There's no point in putting any effort in your physicality when you're baked immortal and can solve all your problems with magic. That's something you mortals have to contend with, not me."

"Well that lever is made with magichanical engineering just like most of the equipment in here, where if affected by uncalculated magic will screw with its wiring and make it unable to control its items as precisely as it currently does, so you're gonna have to do some physical stuff in the world ever."

"Last I checked I still wasn't employed here to do your petty work."

"Breathe in, breathe out-- Okay, how about we take this another avenue; do you want such an obvious weakness where if I throw a rock at the back of your head you're out cold?"

"And you think I'm so blind with my multitudes of eyes that I can't see you revving up your wafflebot to throw one at me to prove your puny point?"

"Eugh, your confidence is going to get you killed-- I'm just considering getting him anyways, he'd get through this layer of ego and I wouldn't have to waste my entire afternoon on this when I should be fixing what broke my machine in the first place. Look, you can be physically weaker than the average cookie and not be weak overall, I am very much willing to admit you've got a good head for magic, certainly better than the 'prodigies' from the school, I'm not judging you for struggling in this avenue."

"Curious how you believe it's ego that's making me not want to do your labor for you."

"And here I was suspecting you just wanted to get paid to do the-- eugh, """puny""" labor. I mean it's obvious you're here for a reason, if you weren't you wouldn't be here, anyone with half a brain could figure that one out, yet it's also something you're not willing to just not say outright. I doubt it's embarrassment, you don't get embarrassed, you just get annoyed-- it really does feel like it's your ego, that you're the Beast of Deceit, so you have to be all macho all the time retaining a mystery because what else beyond that is a better lie? It'd be a lot more appreciated if analysing your dough answered these questions, simply knowing you're full of knowledge does nothing to help with your stubbornness."

"D'aw, do you really think that lowly of me?-" Suddenly a marionette's control bar appears above Crepe and the strings ties itself around their limbs, lifting them off the ground-- much to Crepe's complete disappointment. Though it seems that they shuffle strangely underneath their coat.

"-Believing me to be a petulant child who's roleplaying out their fantasies? What could I possibly have done to give you such a view of me?"

"This isn't exactly helping your case. Why haven't you left yet?"

"Out of the two of us I'd describe you as the petulant one, trying your best to squeeze an answer out of me, such patheticism is entertainment."

"I think I'm being quite reasonable trying to get neither of us evicted, though if the only reason you're sticking around is to watch me be mad then maybe I should go tell Vanilla that you're no good fit here."

"It is true that eventually your absence would be noticed, and who else would be the bigger suspect; but that only matters if I care to be a criminal to this floating rock, doesn't it?"

"You're gonna threaten to crumble me over trying to determine whether you can lift a twig? Real slick there, bluey."

"Of course not! One of us actually has some tact, you know. I've got far better means to ensure things go my way."

"For as long as I've known you I cannot say I could even fathom what 'your way' is supposed to look like, your motives aren't exactly consistent."

"You were right with one thing, I am the Beast of Dec--ough--!"

Suddenly Smilk is ensnared into bindings made of golden scrolls, where he looks down to see what occurred only to become immediately disappointed and glare at Crepe.

"I've got him Crepe! Land safely!" Crepe's own puppet strings poofs into the ether and Crepe themself falls to the ground yet lands without any damage.

"Took your time, that's for sure."

"I know, I'm sorry, but are you harmed?"

"No I'm good. No, this wasn't really an emergency at all, sorry for alarming you but I needed you here quickly to settle a thing."

"Huh? Settle a thing? What's with the puppeteering then?"

"I just wanted a better look at them! Land bound cookies are so difficult to keep eye contact with. We were having a civil discussion"

"He threatened to 'make me absent' so that he wouldn't have to confront you."

"Are you pushing Shadow beyond his boundaries?"

"Well his boundaries are a workplace hazard and if I want to keep my workshop I need to get some answers out of him."

"Okay, before we get explanations to catch me up, are you going to threaten Crepe again, Shadow?"

"It wasn't a threat, just playing around."

"No playing around either?"

"If you're currently threatening me with these bindings what choice do I have?"

"I'll take that as enough of a yes." The bindings unfurl and dissipate into golden sparkles, letting Smilk stretch his newly freed limbs.

"I want to hear Crepe's telling first, and then yours Smilk, any objections?"

"If you insist."

"Before I start, can you go pull that lever?"

As asked, Pv walks over to the pointed lever and does indeed pull it, where one of the wafflebots legs raise up into the air.

"One of the supports holding my wafflebot collapsed and fell on me, so because I was busy trying to not get crushed to crumbs I asked Milk to pull the lever to get a new support, but he could not pull it. Once it was sorted and fixed I asked him about it since being unable to pull it is a sign of extreme physical weakness, and knowing the stipulations for me staying in my workshop I needed answers that he's been avoiding continuously."

"And is your telling different from theirs?"

"I wouldn't exactly define it as avoiding."

"You've not answered me at all!"

"It's his turn to speak."

"... Fine."

"I'm neither a huge fan of you treating us like children settling a meaningless argument, calling mom was entirely unnecessary."

"I'm not quite sure how else to handle the situation, I apologize. But if they are speaking the truth I have to admit I am concerned. Can you really not pull that lever?"

"The writer and ringleader has no need to deal with the activities the rest of the troupe employs, my job is to direct, not anything like that."

".. Crepe? Can you promise you won't tell anyone about what you witnessed today for Shadow's sake?"

"I couldn't give any less of a shit about spreading any rumors, that's the easiest promise I can make in my entire life."

"Good, I think you can go then, I'm sure he'd like some seperation right now."

"Why can't you guys just leave my workshop instead of the other way around? Eugh, yeah sure, don't break anything. T_T"

...

"If you don't mind me asking, can you stand for me? On the ground."

It's just barely noticeable that he seemed taken aback by the sudden request.

"What, don't want me to bring you to my eyelevel too?"

"No, I want to see you walk around the room."

"Do you really think I'm so weak I can't even do that?"

"Well if you can then it should be simple to prove me wrong, to rub it in my face about how wrong my inquiry was, shouldn't it?"

"Hmh..."

He floats down to the ground and lands as indicated by a subtle sound, though to the most observant it seemed unsteady.

"You want me to go down the catwalk now? Wanna watch me pose while you're at it?"

"However you want to interpret 'walking around the room whilst on the ground' is good, I don't need poses."

"I didn't think I'd ever get to see you this sick..."

He does as requested, taking a prance around the room, but with each step it becomes clearer and clearer that it's a struggle with every foot that goes past the other, getting wobblier and wobblier. Once a circle has been met he swiftly returns into the air.

"There we are, fulfilled your fantasies now? Gonna sleep well tonight?"

"I can't believe I never noticed your ailment, I'm not sure what to say. My first instinct is to ask whether you want me to see if you can be healed or helped."

"My ailment? I don't have any ailment, besides a headache from this entire thing."

"Are you lying by omission again or do you really not know that's not normal? Every cookie I know who can fly can also walk just fine, no struggle at all."

"Sounds pathetic to me."

"Sigh, Crepe was right you know. Staying in here whilst being so weak endangers everyone, you included. You may be immortal but you are still fragile, you know I know that. I can do my best to help you regain some of that strength though if you want the help."

"... What'd that look like?"

"A variety of things, but probably first establishing if you've always been this way, or if this is a deterioration."

"I've not deteriorated."

"... But?"

"... A library doesn't shelve itself."

"I see. Well, either we could investigate your dough to see if anything is fundamentally wrong, or we can go straight into very basic exercises to get your body back into the idea of being used again."

"You will not get me on some regimen. >:I"

"Then I won't suggest it, but something has to be done if you want to stay here in the workshop, even if it isn't some scheduled rigorous thing. We can try something here right now though, come here."

He quietly and apprehensively floats back over, where Pv takes each of his hands into his own.

"Stand again."

He looks to the ground, his feet dangling in the air, but after a moment steps back down again.

"If you need to you can put all your weight on me, you won't fall."

"Of course I won't fall, I can fly."

"Well, I won't drop you either way."

A couple seconds passes, he already seems to struggle staying in one place. A minute passes, he's starting to shuffle his feet to regain balance. Another minute, and he gives up, floating back into the air, ripping his hands away from Pv.

"Walking was easier than standing, wasn't it?"

"..."

"It seems that will be our benchmark for now. My deepest gratitude that you were willing to commit to that, I'm proud of you."

"... (> _눈。)"

[realpokemon]

apparently some trainers put their pokerus infected pokemon into pc boxes to prolong the disease. isn't that fucked up or what. anyways if you were infected with pokerus I'd put you into a pc box <3

you really had me going for a minute there. i was so excited to have someone normal in my inbox. delighted even

[avocado62524]

[munaeem]

Can lifestyle changes help mitigate muscle loss with age?

lifestyle changes can significantly help mitigate muscle loss with age, a condition known as sarcopenia. By implementing specific strategies, individuals can slow down the rate of muscle loss and even build muscle mass as they age. Here are the key lifestyle changes that can make a difference: Exercise Resistance Training Resistance training is the most effective form of exercise for combating…