#but now i wonder if that was actually anaphylaxis or if I was having an addisonian crisis | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mullermilkshake · 17 days ago

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Anaphylaxis.

Levi's night in the emergency room takes an odd turn.

Doctor!Levi Ackerman x Fem! reader Medical,Blood,Description of gore,Kidnapping,Death,Allergic reaction,Anaphylaxis,Restraints

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Accident and Emergency was always something of a disguise.

That was what Levi thought anyway.

So many individuals crammed into one space, never making ridiculous small talk, the typical banter having no place in such an environment. The patient was a centre of focus, pathetically howling away in agony, or so silent to the extent of their injuries.

With surgical masks on, anyone could walk around without being noticed, or scolded for their inability to think for themselves and actually do the work they were paid to do.

Like Levi.

He never wanted to become a doctor. Especially wasting his life away with his residency, traipsing around after stupid idiots who got themselves into a car crash, drunk. Or those pathetic enough to drop a knife on their foot.

Levi was always surprised how the latter were even given the trust to cook for themselves let alone prepare Christmas dinner for more people than just themselves, it was all so pitiful. He doubted the cleanliness of their houses too, like that would be any better. He could see it now, cat hair and throw rugs that were breeding grounds for bacteria.

Lazy, foolish pigs who would most definitely fail in life.

Maybe there was some use to this profession after all?

Levi could pick up a scalpel and make those necessary incisions with the utmost precision. Surgeries were the only thing he took pride in, the wet sucking noises inside a body cavity of someone vulnerable enough to put their life in the hands of a stranger, that was something which intrigued him.

Crunching bones and lost blood over his gloved hands enough so he could scribble on the wall and have an infinite writing source to mark make without issue. He had no favourites, but there was a nostalgic vibe whenever the scent of freshly sawn bone wafted up his nose.

It was disgusting, unsightly and messy, but he was always in a sterile field. It was the cleanest place in the hospital and Levi counted down the minutes until he was back in the operating room again.

And this night wasn’t anything unusual. The A&E was as busy as one could assume.

A screeching child and his mother, clutching him in the corner of the waiting room, howling at how unfair it was, losing out on his birthday cake with his fingers wrapped up in tissue paper.

On the other side of the waiting room, a fully grown adult man sobbing away next to the artificial potted plant like it was going to hide him. He had already lost his dignity after grasping at his eye with blood trickling between his fingers. It was by far the most pathetic thing Levi had ever seen.

“Which one do y’want Levi?” Hange blundered over from the front desk snapping her gloves over her hand like a large and incredibly happy labrador.

Levi lent against the wall with his arms crossed, hoping he wouldn’t take either before he was called to surgery. “I don’t care four eyes. I won’t be here long.”

“Assisting another surgery eh? Chief Erwin Smith really does have a favourite.” She elbowed him annoyingly as if it would make him smile.

“It’s none of your business. Why don’t you stick to your own… whatever it is that you do and leave me out of it.” He was only doing this department to score more points with his higher ups. He didn’t actually care for the emergency department unless they resulted in surgeries.

“Oh, such a grump!” Hange nodded in the man's direction. “I’ll take him, there’s something interesting about seeing a grown man cry when he’s possibly got one of his eyes gouged out- oh! What if it’s hanging out? I’d be annoyed if I missed out on that.”

The whining child it was then.

Levi prayed for a miracle, something gruesome and ghastly enough to require surgery. As he strode across the waiting room, he wondered, maybe that finger needed reattaching, or it was hanging off with necrotic tissue and tendons severed by a large knife. Maybe it was a crush injury?

Who was he kidding? It was an eight year old kid. He probably just cut himself on gift wrap or burned himself on a candle. He was making enough noise, no way was it as bad as Levi hoped.

He snatched the clipboard from the reception desk and gleaned over at the notes. Eight year old boy, hurt himself on… What? Jesus, was the mother trying to waste his time?

“Hello.” Levi shifted through the notes and did his best not to blow up in her face. “I see your son hurt himself?”

“Yes, it’s his birthday and he said he trapped it in the door and it started bleeding. I’m worried it’s broken.” She clung to the child as he cried, wriggling his hand and glaring at his thumb.

“Hey, kid.”

“H-huh?”

“How did you hurt your thumb?” Levi couldn’t stand kids.

He stopped crying immediately, dropping his hand down to his lap and watching Levi with intensity. “I shut it in the door…”

“Let me see.” The boy did as he was told, sitting upright and pulling the paper napkin away to show a completely ordinary thumb.

“Don’t you need to take us to a room or something?”

“No, we don’t need a room. His thumb is fine.” Levi pinched it and gave it a little wiggle.

The boy beamed and bounced up and down in his seat. “Mama! My thumb is okay, I can eat my cake now!”

She scoffed a little, though Levi was unsure who it was for, not that he cared. “So i-it’s just fine then?”

Levi nodded slowly so she could comprehend it. “There would have been a mark when it happened, maybe a tiny bit of blood, but all the time you’ve been sitting here and he’s held his thumb up, it’s stopped the swelling. It’s not broken; it never was.”

“So we didn’t need to come here then?”

This was Levi’s favourite part. “Nope.”

The woman looked as though she was going to go off in floods of tears, scooping her child up and pulling him out of the emergency room. What an idiot.

Out she went, and in another came, straight on a gurney and before Hange could even look up, Levi rushed over. Gurneys were the best, the highest chance of a surgery.

And right on that Gurney, was you.

The most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Someone who kept him at that hospital, laying silently on the rolling table coming through those automatic doors.

Levi spoke your name, there was no response. “Petra, what happened?”

She wasn’t in her uniform, just a flowy summer dress to battle the humidity away from the air conditioning. “She just collapsed, we met for drinks and we were barely there ten minutes. It could be an allergy, her breathings off but she has no epi-pen. She said she was feeling a little off.”

You and Petra were close. Levi wasn’t worried about how she would handle this, rather he was concerned how your husband would react. And he would catch on far to quickly by word of mouth alone.

For your husband, was the chief of the hospital.

“You did well, Petra. Now leave it to me.” He paused for a moment. “Don’t tell the Chief about this, I’ll do it.”

Without a word of confirmation. Levi wheeled you through the emergency room and looked for somewhere to put you, the beds were full and Levi would not leave you stuck in the corridor all night for Erwin to see.

So he kept pushing down the long hallway that branched off into the different wings for phlebotomy and x-ray and down to the large service elevator down the end, there were more beds available downstairs and preferable away from the idiots screaming and whining over a few broken bones. It would let you heal from whatever alignment you were experiencing faster than waiting around with wastes of space.

“Stay with me.” He said after the doors to the elevator closed.

You were barely breathing, dry mouth, with a blue like tinge to your skin. It was most likely an allergy, one you weren’t aware of.

Further and further down, Levi got the gurney out of the elevator and pushed you down another hallway and there it was good enough for now.

“Come on… don’t do this now.” You had stopped breathing all together. “Stay alive for me; you have to stay alive!”

Levi never panicked, but right now was as close to getting anxious as he ever had done. You weren’t just a patient, you were his boss’s wife. He snatched the defibrillator from the wall and charged it up, he hadn’t even made the time to hook you up or call a nurse.

He climbed the gurney with epinephrine from the drawer, and got on top of you as it charged, stabbing your thigh and overlapping his hands to push down consistently for compressions. One and two, and three, and four. Right up until thirty.

The defibrillator rang a note and was charged. “Don’t fucking die on me.” Levi got down swiftly and pulled the paddles out, everything he did right.His compressions were flawless. There wasn’t anything else he could do right now but wait.

He never saw himself telling Erwin Smith that his wife had died. An allergic reaction to something took your life.

“I did everything I could.” Was all Levi said to him.

“I know you would have, Levi.” His boss could no longer look him in the eye.

It turned out that Erwin had no idea that you had come in at all until he was informed of your death. Levi had expected Petra to speak about you anyway despite his order not to. But she didn’t, Petra had done exactly as she was asked.

Erwin Smith was in the same building as his wife and he didn’t even know. Well, he resigned that same day, taking a step back from medicine for good as far as Levi understood. After that, Levi worked hard to study on allergens and develop his own specialty within that field, giving up on surgery all together.

It shot him up the promotional ladder like nothing else. A man, riddled with guilt from being unable to save the life of someone so close to one of the most influential men in medicine in that part of the country.

Valiant and admirable. People often told Levi that. He was reliable too, working copious amounts of more overtime than before. Working. Just working.

Working.

“Doctor Ackerman?” In a little over a year, Levi had made it to the head of his own department.

“What is it?” Levi was collecting his things from his locker to take downstairs, more results called for more overtime and he required silence to concentrate away from stupid questions.

“How do I calculate the concentration of Mr Yeager’s dose?”

It really was a stupid question. “I’m clocking off, go ask a nurse.”

“But sir-”

“Go ask a nurse.” Levi did not have time for pathetic students when there were easy solutions right in front of them. He had to learn the hard way and so could they.

He hooked his coat over his arm and wandered down to the elevator, taking it down to a quiet sub level. Down each floor this way often got him thinking of you, one of the reasons he had stayed at the hospital for so long. Though after everything, he wasn’t really sure why he stayed in this specific hospital either.

When he could have just moved you.

The elevator doors opened and Levi walked the long hall pulling out a key from his pocket, a special key to open a very special door that no one else had access to. A door that was hidden. A door that was unnoticeable.

He heard you as soon as he opened the door, still, you weren’t adjusted to life down here, not even after a year. Levi had explained to you exactly what happened and that Erwin was long gone from the hospital and that part of the country too.

You still weren’t convinced and had to fight him every step of the way. At least you had spirit. Levi liked that.

Levi was certain you had tried all day to find something to escape with or to hurt him when he came through the door, that was why he shortened your restraints.

It was far easier to fake someone's death than Levi first though. Originally, he really did think you were dead, laying there ready to be identified, but you were still breathing, heart pumping just barely enough for the monitor to pick up. And Levi did it all on his own down in the basement.

You hadn’t left this place since that day.

One comment about how 'fucked up' your face was beyond recognition and Erwin decided it best not to see your body. Levi handled everything. Levi controlled the entire situation in his favour.

“Stay the hell away from me.”

“I work hard all day and this is the greeting I get?” Levi sighed and wiped the day from his eyes, laying down his coat on the back of the little swivel chair in the corner.

“I don’t greet psychopaths. One day, someone will know I’m down here. And my husband will come back for me- do you hear me?!” You launched a little metal trash can at your feet in his direction, but it never even got close to hitting him.

He loosened his tie and sat down to slip off his shoes. After a few months, Levi had sold his apartment and lived permanently down in the hospitals old blocked off basement. He made it his own, cleaned it up enough that it was sterile with endless supplies of chemicals upstairs. The place still had electricity and made a wonderful home.

“Look, I don’t want to argue today. Can we just be civil and speak to each other like adults? I’m tired and just want to spend some time with you.” Eventually you would give in, and in due course you would let Levi in and push Erwin Smith from your mind for good.

But until then, he would keep taking care of you and keep trying to show you just how much he cared for you.

That was his job as a doctor after all. To care for people.

He just happened to love you as well.

DISCLAIMER - Crossposted from my AO3 - I do not own any of the characters or anything from the anime. This is a work of fan fiction and is absolutely not representative of the views or intentions of the original creator(s).

Also please don’t post any of my work without permission thank you!

#yandere levi ackerman #levi ackerman #x reader #fem reader #reader insert #levi x reader #levi aot #levi attack on titan #levi x you #aot #shingeki no kyojin #doctor levi #minors do not interact #minors dni

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whumpbug · 9 months ago

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HELLO!!! IT IS HERE!!! SCARAB CREW INTRO FIC!!!

i'm sorry it took so long guys i've been in a bit of a funk these last few days BUT i really wanted to post this!! i have much more planned for them but i am trying to pace myself because i've been struggling a little bit!

this also counts for early whumperless whump event day 23: well, that doesn't taste right @whumperless-whump-event (allergic reaction / anaphylaxis)

word count: 2507

see this post for info on the scarabs crew!

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In hindsight, Hari probably should have told the team his allergies to start.

There just wasn’t a convenient time for him to do it. It felt weird.

He already felt their judging eyes on him because he was human. Humans weren’t necessarily looked down upon, but it was quite the common consensus that they had more biological flaws than most other races.

This was, of course, made worse by Hari’s precarious condition.

Introducing himself as the human missing a leg with a blood circulation disorder, an inflammatory lung disease, and food allergies was not something Hari imagined would get him much in the way of respect.

So, he stayed quiet.

After all the introductions and mission briefings came and went, everyone retreated to their respective rooms to settle in. A message over the intercom told Hari that Nyla, the pilot, was going to start making dinner.

He supposed now could be a good time to mention it. He remembered how to get to the kitchen, and Nyla should be in there cooking already, but Hari had just taken off his prosthesis. He didn’t feel like going through the trouble.

Besides, what were the chances that, out of all the things in the galaxy, Nyla made something Hari couldn’t eat.

An hour came and went before Nyla’s chipper voice came over the intercom once again.

“Food’s ready, everyone! Come on down to the kitchen!”

Hari perked up. Now that he thought of it, he was hungry. He hadn’t eaten anything more than protein bars and yogurt cups since the initial launch. An actual meal sounded wonderful.

He grabbed his crutches and began making his way to the kitchen.

As he walked through the halls of The Scarab, he couldn’t help but feel a bit astonished. Just a few days ago, he was on his home planet, Earth. Then, he was shipped off to Asto’is. Now, here he was, floating in space with a group of strangers towards countless unexplored territories and potentially dangerous star systems.

What a story he was going to have to tell.

He arrived at the kitchen and quickly saw he was the last to do so.

Captain Nieven Alaric, the Asto’isian, was sitting at the head of the table, typing away on his detpad. A cigarette was held loosely in his free hand, and he brought it up to his lips with a deep inhale. His brow was furrowed, like he was trying to figure something out.

Zel, the Huelxcan, was sitting towards the middle of the table, but her entire body was tensed up. She looked terribly awkward, like she’d rather be anywhere but there. Her gaze remained trained at a spot on the table, but upon Hari’s entry, she lifted her head. Hari met her eyes on accident and flashed a small smile, and he could have sworn she snarled at him.

Vinny, the Z’edin, was sitting opposite to Zel, but they looked significantly less uncomfortable. On the contrary, their knees were pulled up to their chest with their own detpad balancing on top. A peek over their shoulder told Hari that they were reading.. a scientific article? On biochemistry? For fun? That was perhaps scarier than the Huelxcan staring daggers at him from across the table.

And finally, indicated by the soft humming from the kitchen, Hari caught a glimpse of Nyla plating the final dish with her back turned to him.

Hari hadn’t seen many Haryen in his time. The race preferred not to make too much contact with the other PAGE territories, so seeing one out in the open felt odd.

Still, Hari didn’t need to know much about the race to know their signature trait—large crimson wings on their back with a span almost longer than their full height. Hari also didn’t need to know much about the race to know that this particular Haryen’s wings were not paradigmatic of her people’s.

Nyla’s wings were small and curled tight against her body. The muscles in them looked atrophied and shriveled, and even the way they moved with her body seemed off.

Nyla didn’t offer much of an explanation. She simply stated that she was born differently and left it at that. She didn’t owe anyone an explanation anyway; Hari figured. Still, it was not something someone saw every day.

Hari finally took a seat beside Vinny and rested his crutches against the edge of the metal table. Vinny’s gaze flitted to him before coming back to their detpad.

Hari risked another glance at their screen, and saw that not only were they finished with the first article, but they had moved on to another longer one. Hari had to ask.

“What’cha reading about?”

Vinny’s ears flicked at his voice. “Botany.”

“Botany?”

“Mhm. The first planet on the course is a forest planet, so I wanted to brush up.”

“I see—”

“Do you know much about botany? You’re the medic, after all. Figured you’ve at least taken some life science classes, but I don’t know how much time the curriculum would have spent on botany specifically.”

“Well, I was in highschool when—”

“I guess if it was a general biology class, the content would be broader, so you probably spent a little bit on each subsection. Still, I think botany is underappreciated. There’s so much to learn about a planet based on what kind of flora thrives in it.”

“I agree—”

“Plus, it can tell you so much about culture! Your planet, for example, has such a diverse ecosystem with so many different biomes. The different ways your people use the plants in each area is fascinating!”

“Thank you?”

“Not to mention—”

“Dinner is ready!” Nyla chirped, padding into the room with plates precariously balanced on her arms. Hari silently sighed in relief.

Nieven set down his detpad immediately and stood up to take two of the plates from Nyla.

“Thank you very much for making dinner, Nylath... Nylathrania.”

The syllables sounded clumsy on the Captain’s lips and a slight flush creeped up his cheeks at his fumbling.

“Oh please, just call me Nyla. Nylathrania is a hard one, even back on Harye.”

Nieven cleared his throat. “Very well. Thank you, Nyla.”

“It’s my pleasure! What better way to welcome you all onto my ship than good food?” She smiled and set a plate in front of each person at the table before taking her own seat next to Zel.

Hari smiled right back at her and, he figured he could try probing about the ingredients. Subtly, of course. “Yes, thank you, Nyla. This looks good! What is it?”

“Oh! I wanted to start with something pretty universally liked. It’s noodles with a darzel nut sauce, wozoik leaves, and some poultry from Earth! It’s pretty simple. I didn’t want to try anything too wild on the first night.”

Vinny, finally, lifted their head from their detpad and faced Nyla. “You took the meat out of mine, right?”

“Mhm!”

Vinny’s tail swayed slightly and a slight smile overtook their face. “Thank you, Nyla.”

Hari suddenly felt very stupid. If the kid could let Nyla know about their dietary preferences, why couldn’t Hari?

Still, it was fine. Nothing she said was on his allergy list. He’d just let her know after this meal and everything would be fine.

Nyla picked up her fork. “Well, dig in everyone!”

And with that, they did.

Zel sniffed the food experimentally and swirled a forkful of noodles onto the prongs of the utensil before lifting it to her mouth. The usual scowl on her face lessened greatly and she turned to Nyla.

“You made this?” She said softly.

“...I did. Why? Is something wrong with it?” Nyla almost looked sheepish.

Zel said nothing. She simply turned her face back down to her plate and began scarfing down the noodles.

Vinny was following suit, tail swaying freely as they forked mouthful after mouthful into their mouth.

Nieven was a bit more polite. He ate slowly, and in small bites, but the enjoyment of the food was written all over his face in the way his eyes shone.

Alright, now, Hari needed to try it.

He scooped some of the noodles onto his fork, took a bite and—wow. If this was the kind of food he’d be eating for the next few years, he had no complaints.

The nutty flavor of the sauce was light and fresh, enhanced further by the aromatic greens. The chicken was juicy and flavorful, and the noodles were cooked to perfection. Hari’s eyes nearly rolled back into his head.

Nyla swallowed a mouthful of food and tapped her finger idly on the table. “So... How is everyone feeling about the trip so far?”

Vinny perked their head up. “So far it’s been interesting. Your ship is really cool. I can’t believe you fly it yourself.”

“I do! She’s my pride and joy.” She turned to Hari. “You’re somewhat of an aerospace engineer, right? What kind of ships have you worked on?”

Hari startled at his name and glanced up.

“Me? I’ve worked on a few. I worked mostly on airplanes, though.”

“Oh? So a bit different, then?”

Hari nodded and opened his mouth to respond, but found that his tongue didn’t move the way he intended it to. It felt tingly, like it was swollen in his mouth. He furrowed his brows.

“Sorry. I just— My throat feels weird.” He swallowed convulsively.

Nyla tilted her head and leaned forward to get a better look at him. Zel followed suit, sharing a glance with Nieven.

“Are you okay?” Nyla asked.

“I’m fine... I’m...” Hari swallowed again as an abrupt wave of nausea had him clamping his mouth shut.

Nieven suddenly turned his gaze to meet Hari. “Hari? Are you sure? You’re quite... flushed.”

Hari nodded and scratched at the side of his neck. Stars, when did it get so itchy?

And then it occurred to him. The way he was feeling—the way it felt like his throat was swelling and the way his skin felt too hot for his body—stars, he was allergic to the damn food.

Of all the foods in the galaxy! This delicious meal was one his body decided was a threat! He would have groaned if he could.

Instead, he let out a vaguely choked whine and clawed at his throat, desperately pulling at his collar to get some air. Hives were starting to break out along his arms and shoulders rapidly, and the heat was searing.

Everyone was staring at him now. Even Vinny, who had set their detpad on the table, was in a hurry to get a proper look at Hari.

“Hari?” Vinny questioned.

They stood and leaned over, scrutinizing his face. They looked like they were racking their brain for something. Hari truly hoped they were as smart as they came across, because he wasn’t sure he had the faculties to explain what he needed. With their knowledge on Earth and biology, they were probably Hari’s best bet.

They suddenly jolted with thought. “Anaphylaxis! Allergic reaction! That’s what's going on, isn’t it? Your symptoms match!”

Bingo. Hari nodded frantically, pulling in a wheezing breath. Shit, it really was getting difficult to breathe. He needed to do something—and fast.

“Allergic?! Why didn’t you say something earlier!” Nyla shrieked, practically leaping over the table to reach Hari. “What do we do?! You’re the medic!”

Hari wanted to tell her to relax and that it would probably be fine once he got his epi-pen, but he could quite literally feel his airways shrinking and he figured that might not be true for long.

Vinny tapped away on their detpad before whipping their head back up. “We have to give you epinephrine, don’t we? Where the hell are we going to get that?!”

Hari vaguely gestured to the bedrooms, hoping someone would get the hint. He had a small bright red first-aid kit in his luggage, left out in the open. Never had he ever been so grateful for his disorganized unpacking.

“On it,” Nieven muttered, racing toward the hall. Hari tugged at his collar once again, wheezing desperately. It felt like his head was going to explode now. He was sure he was quite the sorry sight with how red he felt his face getting. Not a very good first impression.

Finally, the captain came sprinting back with the little red pouch. He all but threw it onto the table and ripped it open, before realizing he had no idea what he was even looking for.

“Epi..pen..” Hari managed to rasp out, doubling over when another awful wave of nausea overtook him.

Vinny watched Nieven frantically search for a few more moments before grumbling and lunging over to snatch the pouch from him. They procured the item immediately and began to read over it.

“It’s a needle?”

Hari nodded, wondering why that mattered. He didn’t care if someone had to cut his other damn leg off to get the epinephrine in him—he just wanted to breathe.

Vinny uncapped the needle and hesitantly crouched beside Hari. They were moving at far too leisurely a pace. Hari shot a weak glare.

He would have done it himself, if he could. It’s just that his hands were numb. He could barely lift his arm, let alone have the dexterity to administer it properly. Maybe he should start having his epi-pen with him for every meal. Stars, his head was spinning.

“I can’t do it!” Vinny cried, suddenly pulling away.

“For fuck’s sake—” Zel plucked the pen from their hands, skimmed the directions, and plunged the needle directly into Hari’s right leg with no hesitation.

Hari had never been so grateful in his life.

In just a few moments, Hari felt his breath starting to come easier. He slumped back against his chair and gulped down sweet, sweet oxygen.

No one said anything for a beat. And then, Nyla smacked the back of Hari’s head.

“You idiot! If you’re allergic to something you need to tell me! What was your plan if we didn’t get the epi-pen in time?! I would have been responsible for manslaughter!”

Hari blinked. “I didn’t know I’d be allergic to it.”

Vinny stepped in and crossed their arms. “But you have existing allergies, yes? I could have done some research on how similar the food was to your allergens. Darzel nuts, for example, are remarkably chemically similar to peanuts.”

Oh. That explains it, then. Hari felt a blush creep up on his cheeks. He said nothing.

Nyla let out a soft hmph and pointed a finger at Hari. “After we clean up here and I make you something else to eat, you’re going to sit down with me and make a list of your allergies. All of them. This won’t happen again.”

Hari could tell she meant to be vaguely reassuring, but with the way she said it, it sounded like a threat. He gulped and nodded.

Vinny let out a soft laugh that doubled as a sigh of relief. “Welcome to the expedition, I suppose.”

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#scarab crew #nieven alaric #hari khurana #nyla qifir #zel mixca #vinny l'aoh #oc fic #whumpfic #whump #whump community #allergic reaction #allergy whump #anaphylaxis #whumperless whump event day 23: well that doesn't taste right #whumperless whump event day 23 #whumperless whump event #lowkey. not too happy with how this is written #BUT WE MUST PERSERVERE!

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61below · 2 years ago

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I really gd love how Cang Lan Jue digs into the way enmity just perpetuates enmity (unchecked) like, not only does Yunzhong immediately go ‘if she isn’t a fairy and she isn’t human, then she MUST be Yuezu’ but like the whole thing just escalated (so quickly) from what was just a genuine question that should have had an easy answer: what is XLH? And the thing is, we know that her true form can be read, that was like, the third thing DFQC did after meeting her. Including his instinctive reaction to kill all fairies on sight

So why couldn’t the high immortal, Sansheng, do it?

I think that the protection DFQC conferred upon her also protected her from any kind of magical intrusion or interference, too. Not just physical attacks, but magical ones. But like an anaphylaxis response to allergens, it’s not that good at telling the difference between an actual attack and just someone trying to … what, scan her meridians? Idfk how it works, but I’mna run with the idea that to sample something you gotta take a piece of it, so to ‘read’ her form, one has to dip into her qi. But the bone orchid registers that as HEY YOU DON’T BELONG HERE!!! and does the meridian-level equivalent of throwing up a wall of hellfire around her. Which is why what Sansheng projects ends up looking like flames. She can’t read XLH’s true form bc all she ‘sees’ is the firewall.

(… and ok now I’m actually interested in whether or not the Yuezu doctors were able to do any magical diagnostics on her. Like, did it not register as an ‘attack’ to the bone orchid bc it’s Yuezu cultivation? Did she refuse to let these nosy strangers even do a check? I am CURIOUS.)

But my POINT is that it’s really interesting that the story takes ‘here is someone just trying to defend what’s theirs, but the State of Hostilities is so Hot that even the very act of defense is seen as a Threat’ and gives ‘the INSTANT response to any Perceived Threat is with Aggression. Up to DEATH.’

… and where do you even begin to start conflict resolution from there? It’s no wonder things escalated as far as they did.

#cang lan jue #love between fairy and devil #OH LOOK MY FUCKIN DAY JOB!*#(not really but I am Very Fucking Good at conflict de-escalation which mean that at my LAST job I got the fucking wonderful ‘unassigned’#role as ‘Difficult Client Coordinator’ as in my boss would send me out to deal with all. ALL. of the screamers. and given that I’m a damned #good crisis coordinator BECAUSE it is a Trauma Response … I really r e a l l y did not like that 😒)

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lifblogs · 10 months ago

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Time to explain my diagnosis since I’m sure some of you are curious. I have severe, chronic angiodema. Basically my body is making a lot of what is called deranged antibodies, and those antibodies are assessing everything that touches my body and enters my body, and they say yay or nay on whether said thing should cause anaphylaxis. Which explains why it seems like I’m allergic to a ton of different things all of a sudden, and why even WATER has given me an allergic reaction at times. Also explains why sometimes I might be able to have something one day—like chocolate for example—and be fine, but then I have it the next day and I’m not. Tbh, I’m picturing a bunch of drunk, partying antibodies playing chicken with the anaphylaxis switch. There are treatments, which is fantastic news because I needed my epipen again not that long ago. Currently some very specific bloodwork needs to be done first to help determine which treatment would work best for me and at what dosages. The testing must happen during an anaphylactic episode, so next time that happens when blood labs are open that’s when I’m going. My follow-up appointment for all this is August 8th, so that’s my next date to survive to.

This also explains why prednisone does not have this under control because this illness is not effected by prednisone. It also explains why I get anaphylaxis WITHOUT hives. To the doctor that was a dead giveaway that I have this illness. Apparently hives do not occur with it, but you can get every other anaphylaxis symptom (impending sense of doom, I’m winking at you).

He also told me that hospitals are not good at treating angiodema patients, so he’d prefer I rest at home, which is a relief because I’m constantly wondering if I should go or not, or if I’ve made the right decision (and we all know how bad that last visit was).

The doctor did not feel as if scratch tests were necessary or even safe. You have to be off antihistamines for 5 days for that, and this doctor is quite sure I would die if I went without my large dosages of daily antihistamines, and I had that same thought.

I do have another illness involving allergies, and he was understanding and knowledgeable about that as well, to the point where he actually loved my high doses of antihistamines rather than saying bs like I don’t need them, and we were kind of just nodding when he checked I was eating low levels of the foods that do effect that illness (egg, and red meat).

Before he explained I will admit my BPD took a dive, but now I have a name for the illness, a better understanding of my body, tests to be done, and treatment in the future. It’s scary, especially since I only have one epipen left right now, and it’s one my brother loaned me, and everything I do will be like playing Russian roulette. But I am elated that I have gotten on the track to being alive and feeling better.

#personal

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sassypotatoe1 · 6 months ago

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Discovering that not all allergic reactions entail hives and anaphylaxis and that sometimes they can just be minor reactions that make you vaguely ill and uncomfortable, or even cause completely unexpected symptoms like diarrhea and vomiting and flu-like symptoms was a wild ride. I'm mildly allergic to way more stuff than I thought I was, I thought I didn't have any allergies and was just generally sickly all the time.

So turns out, if you're allergic to tree nuts and you eat them, getting a whole lot of saliva that feels thick to swallow, flu-like body aches and goosebumps, stomach cramps, blocked or runny nose and diarrhea is also an allergic reaction. Saliva is not a viscous substance, it should not be difficult to swallow even if there's a LOT of it. Your throat is swollen babe.

MOST fruits and vegetables are not spicy, only peppers, some alums and actual spices, and mints can cause a tingly or burning sensation. If a fruit tingles you're allergic. If a leafy green tingles you are allergic. If a starch or grain tingles you are allergic.

I just discovered I'm allergic to rosehip, because it's in a new tea I got myself which tastes absolutely horrendous to me, and my arms and throat are itchy as fuck and my mouth feels like it's full of cotton (tongue swollen). I took like 3 small sips and I'm not like actually sick, just mildly irritated, so I'm not panicking, but I now have to get rid of an entire box of tea. And check everything for tree nuts AND rosehip. How wonderful.

Medication allergies are especially weird like they do not happen how you'd expect. I'm allergic to codeine, found out because I had my wisdom teeth removed surgically and the anti inflammation meds have a high dose of codeine, I took the highest recommended dose daily for a week because I had anesthesia brain and didn't see the up to in front of the "two tablets three times a day". My dad hilariously did that too once, took 4 antihistamines after getting stung by a bee and got violently ill, didn't see the up to in front of four tablets daily.

Anyway I took way too much codeine and then for the next month I could not breathe well at all, felt dizzy constantly and was super sensitive to everything. Turns out some medications like to stick around in your body for a while, and when you're allergic to it the allergic reaction sticks too. Highly unpleasant, I have to tell doctors no codeine every time I have a procedure that requires anti inflammation drugs.

The symptoms for the newly discovered rosehip allergy are getting worse actually I am going to go take an antihistamine I'll continue this post later.

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whovianfloozy · 5 years ago

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Epi Pen PSA -- could save a life!

In addition to my breast cancer, I have the joy of multiple autoimmune diseases. One of them causes me to have anaphylaxis to myself, so in addition to the bi-weekly cancer chemo I receive monthly Immunotherapy. They will not administer it at your appointment unless you have your Epi Pens with you, because the Immunotherapy itself can cause anaphylaxis and you may need it on the ride home.

I had Immunotherapy Monday, and as the chemo fog has fried my brain, I decided to get out my box and check on when my Epi Pens expire while I was sitting there for my 30 minute post delivery observation, My Nurse noticed me looking at the box, and I told her I was checking the expiration date.

She walked over and told me the date I was looking at was only the expiration date of the prescription, not the actual Epinephrine syringe. Where I live, pill bottles and the like typically say "Drug Z, Filled 1-2-33,Good until 1-2-34, 5 refills expires 1-2-34" so Drug Z was good for a year and so was the prescription.

The tag on my Epi Pen box said "Filled 4-10-19 Expires 4-10-20"

She told me that Epi Pens were different, the tag on the box was the date for the prescription expiration only. The medication, the actual Epinephrine expiration dates were only on the syringes themselves. She then proceeded to open the box, remove the sheaths, open them and remove the syringes, and show me the expiration dates.

My Epi Pens had been dispensed in April 2019, and had expired in July of 2019. My Epi Pens, on which my life might depend, had expired SEVEN FREAKING MONTHS AGO. They had had a lifespan of three months.

I was angry, and horrified. They immediately sent a new scrip to my pharmacy of course and I thanked her for telling me as it potentially could have saved my life. I also asked her to inform every single patient who came in that office, and she will.

She told me that every single time I pick up an Epi Pen prescription, immediately go sit in one of the waiting chairs, open up the box, and check the dates on the syringes. If it's not a year, go back up and demand they take them back and order new syringes with a one year life span, as typically we are renewing them with a few days lee way either way once we know the true expiration date..

If for some reason they refuse call your insurance company and they should raise hell. Apparently this is legal because when the pharmacy gets a scrip and orders the pens, the manufacturer is not sending expired merchandise. And of course, if there's an issue, the consumer didn't fulfill their responsibility to check the expiration date.

Two years ago, I anaphylaxed alone at home. It progressed fast, and as soon as I unlocked the front door and called 911, I delivered a pen through my jeans into my thigh. It didn't stop the progress. They gave me a dose of Epi, and a giant dose of steroids in the ambulance, and they met us with an intubation kit at the hospital.

The responders and Docs in the ED at first were wondering if I had delivered the pen properly of course, but as they quickly removed my clothes they saw the syringe bruise and the drop of dried blood right in the right place. For the remainder of my hospital stay they couldn't figure out why the Epi Pen hadn't stopped or at least slowed it down. That's what they do, they don't reverse it.

Now I look back and wonder. I had tossed the used pen in the trash immediately, and thrown out the other in it's box when I came home from the hospital with a new two pack. What if the syringe I had used had expired six or seven or nine months before? What if my new kit had expired four months later?

I am furious, and frightened for those who don't know, I've already contacted my best friend for her husband, and my niece for her little girl. I will be contacting my GP to see if he knew this and every one else I know eventually, and asking them to spread the word.

Check your Epi Pens, tell every one you know, and please signal boost this and REBLOG IT to spread the word.

Thanks guys, and be well. Love xXx

#epi pens #medicine #allergies #pharmacy #a like won't get the word out #anaphylactic shock #severe allergies #pharmacies #I won't tag this for long post because even one life is worth two minutes of your time #drug manufacturers

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sohotthateveryonedied · 4 years ago

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You Gotta Fend for Yourself

Read here on AO3!

Summary:

Bruce is Tim's emergency contact. He gets a call to meet Tim at the ER.

“I’m looking for a patient.” The woman behind the ER desk looks bored as she eyes Bruce, takes in the pressed suit and diamond cufflinks. The way he fidgets, drumming his fingers on the desk and trying very hard not to look as anxious as he feels. It’s easier to reign in his worry when he’s wearing the cowl. “Name?” “Tim Drake.” “Give me a minute.” She types his name into the computer, and Bruce can’t help but wonder how she manages to type with such long fingernails. “Your son is in bed eight. It’s over there, against the far wall.” She points him in the general direction. Bruce considers correcting her on the fact that Tim is certainly not his son, but he doesn’t need to tell this complete stranger that. Let her think what she wants. He thanks her and goes where directed. His chest loosens when he finds Tim sitting on a medical cot, neither bleeding out from a gaping wound nor missing any limbs. Instead he’s playing some sort of racing game on his phone, indifferent to the bustling emergency room around him. An oxygen mask sits beside him, forgotten. He and Bruce should really have a conversation about the importance of listening to medical professionals. “Hey, kiddo.”

Tim looks up and his eyes go wide. “Bruce. You...actually came?” His voice is hoarse, like he’s been gargling sand. “Of course I did. I am your emergency contact, after all.” Tim blushes. “I told them not to call you. You really don’t need to be here if you’re busy, I can get a cab home. And I’m sure I can talk the doctors into letting me check myself out without an adult, so—” “It’s okay, Tim. Really. You actually saved me from a board meeting.” Tim doesn’t look at all reassured. Bruce sits on the side of the cot beside Tim, who moves over a few inches. “Your teacher told me you went into anaphylactic shock in the middle of geometry.” Tim rolls his eyes. “I got a candy bar from the vending machine and the wrapper forgot to mention there were walnuts in it. It’s not that big a deal.” “Oh, sure, not that big a deal. You just stopped breathing for two minutes. Totally normal.” “I’m breathing now, aren’t I?” Tim takes an exaggerated breath. “See? I’m fine. And, for the record, it was the teacher’s fault. I had my hand raised for a whole minute trying to tell her that I couldn’t breathe, and she didn’t even look at me. Eventually I just passed out.” Bruce blinks. “You raised your hand? While your life was in danger?” “I didn’t want to be rude.” Lord, beer me patience. “I’ll get you an EpiPen to carry with you from now on.” “I usually have one, but I used it up a couple months ago and kept forgetting to ask my dad for another one.” A shrug. “Don’t you keep one in your utility belt?” “That’s for civilians.” Bruce’s eyebrows crease. “It’s for keeping people safe, not just civilians. You’re a person, so I want you to use whatever you need to keep yourself from dying in the middle of class. Got it?” Tim nods, a little sheepishly. “Yes, sir.” “Good. Now, how are you feeling?” Tim flicks the IV tube. “Cortisone and a shot of epinephrine earlier. I’ll be fine.” Even so, Bruce can’t stop himself from checking Tim over anyway, just to be sure. He needs to see that Tim is okay with his own eyes. He feels Tim’s throat for any residual swelling, checks his pulse. “Can you breathe okay?” “Yep.” “What about your mouth, does it feel numb or tingly? Any swelling?” “No and no.” “Are you dizzy at all, nauseous?” “You do realize we’re in a hospital, right? Surrounded by actual doctors?” “Yes, and I don’t trust a single one of them unless their name is Leslie Thompkins, Alfred Pennyworth, or Bruce Wayne.” “You’re insane.” “Good. Maybe then you’ll stay alive long enough to see the new year.” Bruce takes out his cell phone and drafts the beginning of an email in his notes app. “I should call the school and give them hell for not looking after you. Or at least for not being more aware of their vending machine snacks.” He knew Tim never should have been allowed in a public school. That’s like locking the most perfect, innocent kitten in the world in a cage with rabid coyotes. Completely irresponsible. “You’re overreacting, B.” “You could have died.” Tim scoffs. “Stop being so dramatic. This isn’t even the worst allergic reaction I’ve had. My parents were terrible at remembering to tell the nannies about my walnut energy, so there were a lot of close calls.” Bruce should be more surprised at that information. After he sues the school for the wrongful almost-death of a student, he should sue Drake Industries just for the hell of it. “Where are your parents? Are they on their way?” Jack Drake is as disagreeable a man as disagreeable men get, but he’s always revving for conflict. Bruce will definitely be able to sway him to his side of this matter. They can bring it up to the board of education, draw up new regulations for the school’s allergy protocols. Tim scratches absently at the rash on his neck. Bruce swats his hand away. “Dad brought Dana on a business trip to Philadelphia. It was only supposed to last the weekend, but they decided to stay a few extra days.” “A few?” “Eleven, to be exact.” Yikes. Big yikes. “You at least called them, right? They’ll want to know you’re safe.” “I called Dad when I first got here, but he didn’t pick up so I left him a message. I’m pretty sure he got it, because Dana keeps texting me to make sure I’m okay and asking if they should come home early. Dad still hasn’t said anything, but I’m sure he’s worried too.” Even as Tim says the words, it’s clear he doesn’t believe them. Never mind, fuck Jack Drake. Bruce can find another parent to start an alliance with—one who actually cares about their kid. Maybe Crystal Brown is free tonight… Bruce flags down a passing nurse. “Can I get some discharge papers for my son, here?” Might as well throw that in, give himself some extra authority. Whatever gets them out of here quicker. “Thank god,” Tim says. He plucks out the IV and swings his legs off the bed. “I’m sick of this place. You can just drop me off at home and I’ll be all set?” “Drop you off? You’re coming home with me, Tim.” Was that part not clear? “It’s cool, really. I’ll be fine after some rest. You don’t have to look after me.” “I know I don’t have to. I want to.” Bruce thanks the nurse who brings over the discharge papers in record time. People really don’t appreciate nurses enough; he should donate a few million to boost their salaries. He pushes the clipboard into Tim’s hands. “Here, fill these out and we can get going. I’ll call ahead and have Alfred make supper.” “And then I can go home?” Bruce shrugs, eyes fixed on his phone screen as his thumbs fly. “You already have a room made up at the manor, so I don’t see why you can’t stay over tonight. Besides, I’d like to keep an eye on you, just in case.” Anaphylaxis can be a tricky thing. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a mother hen?” “Once or twice.” “Well, they’re right.” Bruce snorts. He works more on his email draft to the school, making a mental note to censor out the swear words during revision. He’s getting flashbacks to years ago when Jason had a close call with some shrimp at a party for a museum opening. Bruce nearly decimated the catering company for not putting out warnings for potential allergens. “Tim?” “Hm?” “How come I’m your emergency contact?” Tim freezes. He doesn’t look at Bruce and twiddles the pen, quiet for a moment. “I don’t know. I guess I didn’t know who else to put? I figured it would never actually be needed, so it wasn’t like you’d ever find out about it anyway. But don’t worry, I’ll change it tomorrow so you don’t need to do this again.” “No,” Bruce says, a little too quickly. “Keep it. It’s...more logical for it to be me. And I really don’t mind.” “You sure? You don’t have to.” “I want to. Partners look out for each other, right?” Tim’s cheeks are flushed under the allergy-induced redness, but he nods. “Right.”

#whumptober 2020 #no.29 #emergency room #batfamily #batfam #tim drake #red robin #robin #idiot duckboy #bruce wayne #batman #batdad #dc comics #fanfiction #fanfic

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backseatsiren · 3 years ago

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Never Enough

It's been busy out there, as the omicron surge has taken NYC like wildfire. The ERs are insane right now, with beds in the aisles - it took something like 45 minutes just to get a patient checked in the other day, thanks to an overstuffed, understaffed ER.

By the way: If you (yes, you!) reading this need medical attention for anything right now: please be patient, because medical staff are unbelievably overworked right now. I want to give everyone in every ER across NYC a gift card for a massage and a bottle of whatever they like best right now. That's a fund I would support, if anyone can get that going...

But, speaking of the pandemic... I actually had COVID right before Christmas, and was luckily not too sick and able to visit family on my tenth day of quarantine (which was Christmas Day itself), but not everyone is so lucky.

Lately

I've gone out twice in the last week: a combination of feeling a personal responsibility to go out, a break from my MMA gym while numbers are so high (you can bet I'm basically vibrating with the need to go back), and a whole bunch of vacation days after a ten day quarantine that left me very, very primed to go out and do something. But, as the title here might clue you in... it's really not enough.

Last Tuesday, I was on the community ambulance. We've been activated in the 911 system constantly since the holidays (briefly: as volunteers, we typically "buff" jobs, listening on the radio for calls, arriving, and either assisting the dispatched crew with the call or taking that call off their hands). The community bus does the usual, buffing jobs, while our second ambulance was in the activation. In an activation, our ambulance is directly dispatched in the 911 system, and sent to calls like any other 911 crew — and many of these are all over the city, not necessarily in our usual service area. We had a couple of calls: a car accident and an interesting syncope job where we had paramedics for most of the call.

There was a difficult element here: our patient didn't speak much english, and his daughter was translating for him throughout the call. But no family was allowed in the ER (again, it was crazy: beds in the aisles, lines to register patients and transfer care), and she had to explain to him that she had to go. Obviously, this is a situation where the policy is understandable and necessary: and also... sucks.

On New Year's Day, I did one of my first activation tours (I'd done one before, but on an uncharacteristically slow day). Honestly, I prefer it, even though we might be all over the place and not in our regular service area, and the call variety was interesting.

After a couple of more routine jobs, we actually had a fairly critical patient that day. A severe pediatric asthma attack (which is a call type that I had a very rough experience on once, years before, where I literally fumbled a medication. Everything was fine, everyone was fine, but I felt like a royal dumbass). We arrived to a "difficulty breathing" call to find a mother walking her daughter out, and she was in obvious distress. Accessory muscle use and you could hear wheezing without a stethoscope.

Sufficiently critical asthma attacks and anaphylaxis calls are TERRIFYING. There are plenty of other, much more gruesome calls that are less straight-up scary, mainly because when a person can't get enough air, they (very understandably) often panic, and honestly, that's fucking terrifying. They can also be wonderful calls to go on because we can often really help someone in that situation: obviously, that depends on many factors. But we have albuterol and epinephrine and they work pretty well. Scary, critical calls where we can really help a patient = a happy EMT. At least, for me.

(For the record, and because this is the internet, I need to say this: I don't want anyone to be hurt or sick. I don't sit there in the ambulance saying "Man, I sure hope someone has a horrible, near-death situation today, for my benefit!" No. I'm just saying — and I think this is a logical, relatable thing — that it feels good to be able to help someone in distress.)

It felt good to treat and reassure and help this kid and her family. On so many calls, there is vanishingly little we can do for a person. Sometimes, all we can do is that bit of "psychological first aid" and try to be there for a person while we bring them to a place that can actually offer care (though, often enough, with issues like substance abuse or any other chronic problem, it's not like they'll go and be cured immediately, so that's more like helping with a potential first step.) I'm pretty sure this is why many people become EMTs, to help people and see a tangible result of that help: the satisfaction of seeing your effort turned to results. That's a lot of why I do it, anyway.

Which leads me to what I'm struggling with now: the feeling that I still don't go out enough. I've gone on two tours in the last week, and I'm thinking about a third. But that's not enough either. While the city is in crisis (I saw a figure around 6k calls in the 911 EMS system last night, which is close to the peak number of above 7k during the worst and deadliest part of the early pandemic in March/April 2020) there is no number of tours that will feel like enough.

Yes, this is a me problem, and an "I have OCD and need to do something" problem, but I'm also not the only one who feels this way. I have a work partner who works full time in another field and he's been on the ambulance practically every day since the activation over the holidays. He's expressed a desire to keep going and keep going while things are this bad, and I am right there with him in heart (even though I really can't be there every day).

Work (at my main, full time job, that is) is starting up again tomorrow, but it's hard to think about much else besides getting back on the truck. On top of feeling like I need to help, there is a more selfish dimension to this: it feels good to help. It feels great to be there and be active and feel, in any possible way, that you are doing something about this horrible fucking thing that's been ruining everyone's life (and taking many, many lives) since March 2020. And it feels good to learn and learn more about our processes in an activation, as opposed to our usual way of doing EMS.

So, no, it's never enough. It never will be enough. I can just do my best and make some attempt to accept that. Maybe someday I will.

#EMS #volunteer ems #covid #911

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thebibliosphere · 3 years ago

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Hi Joy!

I saw you mention being sensitive to sesame oil in your post about the make you use, and was wondering if you'd ever experienced any discomfort from being around sesame oil when it's being cooked with?

My chronically ill therapist and I suspect I have mcas and I've noticed that when someone is cooking with sesame oil I get like nauseous and feel sick while I'm around it, and we think it might be a trigger food for me, but the allergist said smells, other than shellfish, can't be triggers? So I'm curious if you might have experienced something similar

Thank you, please feel free to ignore this, and ai love your hair cut!

Thank you for the haircut love!

And unfortunately, it sounds like your allergist is not at all familiar with MCAS. Because yea, any strong smell or if something you're allergic to being in use around you, can be a potential MCAS trigger.

I can't walk down the laundry aisle in Target without instantly getting a migraine and throat swelling. It used to cause me respiratory distress until I got on the right meds.

I also can't be around red meat when it's being cooked. I don't have any sort of aversion to it. I actually think it smells really good! But that won't stop me from getting a migraine and breaking out in hives because my body takes my red meat allergy, associates the smell with being exposed to it, and goes on red alert. I've also had this happen with jalapenos, food I love and am not technically allergic to, but because I experienced anaphylaxis from sunscreen while eating tacos, my mast cells now think jalapenos are a threat.

I've tried all kinds of therapy to see if it was some mental block or trauma response, but after 5 years of that both me and my therapist have concluded it's a manifestation of my mast cell instability and not anything psychological. The fact that Benadryl makes it go away and not anxiety meds also helps to back that up.

So yeah, it could very well be that you're really sensitive to it and can't be around it. I'd recommend finding a better allergist if possible. I know it's easier said than done, but the fact that fragrance sensitivity/disability is so prevalent it's protected under ADA and they are claiming that only shellfish is a trigger is a red flag.

#chronic health tag #mcas #allergies

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annabethy · 4 years ago

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under the mistletoe, watching the fire glow day 6: in the emergency room

Character A and Character B meet in the ER on Christmas Eve,, Percabeth

Annabeth likes to think that Christmas Eve is meant to be spent with the people you love most. For the past few years, she’s spent it with just her and Percy, both of them cuddled close on the couch with movies playing in the background.

It’s meant to enjoy the lights around the city and drink hot chocolate as you watch the snow fall. When she was little, she never really got to do any of that with her family, but now she has Percy. The absolute love of her life.

He makes her feel loved and cherished, and she quickly builds Christmas memories to last her a lifetime. The day that Annabeth used to dread is now the one day she wishes more than anything that she could live in forever.

So it’s safe to say Annabeth is fascinated by the bright lights. She would spend eternity surrounded by the blue and green and red lights, wrapped in the love of her life’s arms, if she could.

Annabeth smiles as Piper plants a cookie into her hand. She has to admit that she’s a bit saddened that Percy had to work on Christmas Eve, but she also supposes that’s what comes with being a doctor. She would be fine, anyways. She still had her friends, and then all of actual Christmas Day with him.

That’s what she thought, anyways, until she took the first bite of that cookie and her throat started closing up.

All havoc breaks loose as people start screaming around her, and she wants to tell them to calm down, but her vision starts to spot because she can’t get enough air. She hears someone say something about anaphylaxis, and the next thing she knows, she’s inside an ambulance under those beautiful blue and red flashing lights.

She’s injected with a heavy dose of epinephrine, and she starts to feel marginally better, and by that, she means she can at least wheeze in a breath of air. Everything is kind of blurry, which is a shame. New York City is beautiful on the night of Christmas Eve. Thanks to the cookie, or at least she’s assuming that was the culprit, she’s instead stuck inside of an ambulance that is all too loud and making her feel nauseous.

The EMTs roll her into the ER, and she distantly thinks that these lights don’t even hold a flame to the ones outside. As she looks around, there are a lot more people than she would’ve expected to see on this night, and she suddenly understands why Percy had to come into work. He’s so selfless and perfect, putting others before himself, and there’s something really hot about him when he’s in patient mode. God, she loves her husband so much, and she’s only a little bit high right now, but she wants to just grab his face and kiss him and—

“Annabeth?”

She turns her head to the voice, and her eyes take a few moments to adjust before she notices Percy coming towards her, alarmed.

“What happened!?”

She tries to speak, but her throat really hurts right now. She thinks an EMT tells him instead before Percy waves him off and takes the gurney in his hands himself. She’s placed in a room off of the ER, and there are quite a few other people hooking her up to a machine and pricking her with needles. She doesn’t quite like the way that everything feels to be moving in slow motion, sound faded in her ears. She is only brought back to a screeching halt when Percy calls her name for what she’s sure isn’t the first time.

“Annabeth,” he says, looking her in the eyes. “Are you okay?”

She blinks. “I’m fine,” she says, but her voice sounds super strained to even her own ears. She begins to look around the room and notices, sadly, that there are no longer any colorful lights. Just obnoxious white led lights.

Percy pulls a stethoscope from his white coat pocket, his hand snaking underneath her shirt to reach her back. “Can you take a breath?”

She does as he says, her skin lining with goosebumps at the cold feel of the metal. He moves it around again, asks her to take another breath, checking her lungs, checking her heartbeat. He pulls away again, and she nearly whines. As he loops the stethoscope around his neck, his hands come to press to her cheeks, his thumb caressing the smooth skin.

“Poor baby,” he says, pouting.

Annabeth pulls her head away from his grasp, but he follows her. “Don’t baby me.”

“You went into anaphylactic shock,” he says. “Let me baby you."

Annabeth scowls, but Percy presses a sweet kiss to her forehead anyways. Her fingers find the top of his scrubs, curling around the fabric, and he just lets her. She knows that he does his best to not let people grab his clothes, so it’s cute that he lets her do it. It’s nice to know that he has a soft spot for her that he doesn’t exhibit with anyone else, and it makes her grin.

“What are you smiling about?” he asks softly. He’s leaning over her slightly as he pulls a small flashlight out of his pocket so he can shine it in her eyes.

“Aren’t you supposed to be working?” she asks.

“I was working until my wife rolled up into the ER unable to breathe. Near gave me a heart attack.”

“But I’m all good now,” she says, weakly pushing him away by the chest. “So go away.”

“I’m the doctor, and I say that you’re not all good until I say so.” He grabs her hand and kisses each of her knuckles before curling her hand into a fist and pressing it against his heart. “You feel that?”

“You were scared,” she teases, concentrating on the steady thumps against her hand.

“Of course I was.”

She smiles softly, pouting her lips for another kiss. When he obliges, she giggles, poking him in the face. “You nasty. You just kissed a patient.”

He gives her a look of adoration. “It doesn’t count when you’re already my wife, silly.”

“You’re also treating family, so.”

“I’m the only person on trauma that’s available right now,” he says.

“Does this even count as a trauma?”

“My heart experienced trauma,” he admits, brushing her hair away from her face. “It was highly traumatic hearing your name.”

“You love me,” she teases.

“Aw, you caught me.” He coos at her and presses kisses all over her face. “I love my wife so so much.”

“Did you know that a cookie almost took my life today?”

“I heard. I’m just wondering why you ate a cookie without checking first.”

“Piper gave it to me.”

“Attempted murder,” he says playfully. As he caresses her head, fingers threading in her hair, he asks, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m much better now that I get this sexy doctor taking care of me.”

He smirks. “Sexy, huh?”

“Very. And now I get to see you on Christmas Eve!”

“I’m not sure this was the best way to see you on Christmas Eve, baby. I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

“The only thing that hurts is my head because of these bright lights.” She glares at the lights as though they’ll dim in fear.

“Do you want them off?”

She shakes her head but continues glaring. “Need something to keep the Christmas spirit up.”

“Nothing like a festive migraine, right?” He moves to turn the lights off anyways before coming back to her side.

“Can you do me a favor?” she asks, fingers scratching at her arm languidly. He pushes her hand away from her skin, scolding her for scratching at the hives that have forced. She scowls at him, but he just grins.

“What do you want, love?”

“Come cuddle me.”

Percy throws his head back and laughs. “Now that might get me fired.”

“I’m not worth it?”

Percy’s thumb traces over her bottom lip. “You’re always worth it.”

And so is he, she thinks.

Percy crawls into the bed anyways, laying down by her side. It’s nice having someone willing to break the rules for her. She thinks he would have done it anyways even if she hadn’t asked him to stay with her. She rests her head against his chest, and he begins to rub her back slowly. The mess of wires is a bit uncomfortable, but she’ll live as long as Percy keeps rubbing circles into the itchy skin, as long as she can feel his body heat warming her in the cool hospital air.

She dozes off a little bit only to wake up coughing for air again. Percy becomes alert for a second, and he pulls an oxygen mask off the wall, holding it to her face. He keeps it there for her as she settles back down, and she begins to fall asleep against him again.

She’s sure that someone walked in to find them like that, but Percy doesn’t move. He stays there until she wakes back up again, and then she is much less tired and much more chatty.

“Can we watch a movie later?” she asks.

“If that’s what you want to do.”

“But we have to open presents first.”

“Of course,” he says, humoring her.

“What did you get me?”

“I can’t tell you that,” he chastises softly. “It would ruin the surprise.”

“How about you tell me now, and I pretend to be surprised later.”

Percy kisses her once. “Come on. Just wait a few more hours.”

“Oh my god, you got me that car I wanted, didn’t you?”

Percy snorts in her face. “Sure.”

“And a new house, right?” “Where do you think I’m pulling this money from, babe?”

She nuzzles his neck. “What did you get me then?”

“I got you a coupon that says you may request one baby.”

“So you got me a coupon that says we can bang mercilessly?”

“Yes.”

“That’s a lame gift.”

Percy gasps, tickling her side until she can’t breathe again. He stops as she starts wheezing, but he’s then pinching her arm lightly. “That’s so mean.”

“Just tell me what you got me for Christmas!”

“You have to wait and see!”

She sighs but gives in, laying against him again. The rest of Christmas Eve is spent like that, Percy sitting by her side listening to Annabeth talk his ear off. It’s not the Christmas Eve she ever expected, but it was certainly one to remember. When she got discharged a few hours later with Percy ending his shift, he takes her on a long carried at four in the morning so that they can look at all the pretty lights she missed out on.

And when they get home just as the sun begins to rise, they immediately both go to sleep. Percy’s arms are snug around her waist, his face pressed against her back. He says it’s because he wants to listen to her breathing and make sure she’s okay, and she makes sure to tease him endlessly for it.

In reality though, she doesn’t mind in the slightest. Christmas is spent with just them, and Percy tends to her the entire day. She takes full advantage of it, and she may have called him Dr. Sexy way too many times, but Percy just smiles and pulls her in for a kiss each time she does.

When it comes time to open presents, it turns out that he really did get her that coupon, which she makes good use of, but he also got her the extra band to her wedding ring that she’s had her eye on for months, and everything is absolutely perfect. She never would’ve thought that the best Christmas was the one where a cookie nearly murdered her, and Percy was her hot doctor, but here she is.

It’s not at all a normal Christmas, but it’s certainly a special one, and one she wouldn’t trade for the world.

#percabeth #percy jackson #annabeth chase #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #my writing

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fortheloveoffanfic · 4 years ago

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Behind Closed Doors

Keanu Reeves x OFC (A/n- I hate these moodboards sm)

Masterlist. Behind Closed Doors Masterlist

Warnings- Angst, medical emergency, sexual tension

Chapter 3 Taking Blame

One month later After they'd gotten engaged, Keanu had been politely adamant in insisting that Miranda get to know Matt and Poppy better; take them out, spend time with them after their tutors left for the day and drive them to swim and ballet occasionally. As expected, she'd been reluctant, and even when Miranda did begrudgingly agree, Emma had been asked, or rather persistently urged, to join her. Of course, Miranda had dismissed Keanu when he protested that the entire purpose of her taking them was to spend time with the twins alone, arguing insistently that it was Emma's job to take care of them.

That had been nearly a month ago, and after one trip to the mall, two swim meets, three weekly ballet practices, spent with Emma trailing three paces behind Miranda, holding the children's hands along with whatever bags they had, Miranda had finally agreed to watch the children on her own and Keanu had let Emma have some time off.

Using her time liberally, Emma had gone to lunch with a couple old college friends, and then for a few drinks after. It was past seven when she finally returned, and from the minute she walked through the side door from Keanu's huge garage, the strong aroma of baked goods washed her senses, peaking Emma's curiosity, drawing her towards the kitchen. She didn't think Zelda had stayed that late.

Much to her surprise though, it wasn't the older woman in the kitchen, instead, it was Miranda standing amid the mess, a tray of grayish brownish cookies laid out on the the breakfast bar, dressed casually in white lounge pants and loose lace blouse, some of her hair pined away from her face. Surrounding the tray, was an assortment of ingredients, most of them looking like they'd been bought at a high end organic food shop. "Miranda?" Emma said slowly, beckoning the older woman's attention.

"Emily!" She spun on the absent heel of her ballet pump, and Emma gnawed on her lip to quell her annoyance. It was still extremely irritating when Miranda got her name wrong, but she'd given up on correcting her, deciding that she was more than likely doing it on purpose. "You're home, finally. Zora left….." she trailed off, waving her hand dismissively, "Some time ago, but thankfully you're here to clean up. Try one, they're peanut butter cookies. Totally organic," she shoved the tray closer to Emma.

"Okay," she cringed, wondering how bad organic desserts could be. She'd heard the stories, how they tasted like cardboard, grass and other things that most people wouldn't readily put in their mouths. Miranda stared at her intently, clearly waiting for Emma to take a bite and so, deciding that a cardboard cookie might be easier to endure than her boss's fiancée whining, she nibbled to the edge, just enough to get a taste. Eyes widening in surprise, she went in for a bigger bite, humming at the surprisingly good taste, "This is actually……"

"It's good right? Apparently Keanu thinks you baking is the gold standard or whatever," and once again, Emma wasn't sure if Miranda's compliment was actually a compliment.

Stammering, she just nodded, "It is good, you made them for the kids, do they like them?"

"Mhm!" With a triumphant grin, Miranda started walking out of the kitchen, reaching the mouth of the hall, "They’re in the playroom, and since you're here you can take over now!"

Not even bothering to respond, Emma just shook her head, shrugging off her leather jacket, draping it over a chair at the kitchen table, knowing the sooner she got to work, the better. The first thing she did was start clearing the remaining ingredients from the counter, barely glancing at names and labels until something caught her eye, "Miranda!" Emma yelled, panicked, not caring how upset she'd get, "Miranda!"

Seconds later, she came hustling into the room, muttering about how rude and incompetent hired help could be. "What do you want now?" She spoke through gritted teeth.

"Did you put this in the cookies?" Hastily, she held up a bag half filled with wheat flour, the plastic packing clutched tightly in her fist. Her heart was probably beating a mile as Emma anticipated a response.

"Yeah," Miranda scrunched her nose, still upset by Emma's scolding tone, "So what, it's good-"

"Didn't you read the list?" Already she was dropping the flour, not caring if it spilled, making a bigger mess than before, lunging for her handbag and rummaging for her keys, "Matty, Pop!"

"What list?"

"The fucking allergy list!" Emma sneered, too jolted to stop and worry about Mirada's precious feelings, "It's right there on the fridge,” she pointed hurriedly, and just as she was about to call for the kids again, Matt came running into the room, his face pulled with fright.

“Emma!” He ran past Miranda and straight for her, grabbing her thigh to get Emma's attention, “Come quick, something’s wrong with Poppy! She started coughing and-” He was on the verge of tears and there was an anxious bounce in his stance.

“Hey, sweetie, it’s okay,” Emma quickly kissed his hair, standing again to go get Poppy, “Everything’s gonna be okay, but I need you to be a big boy and wait by the car for me,” after that mishap, there was absolutely no way in hell that Emma was leaving Matt alone with Miranda, not when she was pretty sure she had a case of anaphylaxis on her hands, “I’m gonna go get Pop, okay?”

Nodding he ran off, and Emma went in the other direction, choking a sob when she reached the playroom, finding Poppy on the floor, gasping for breath, angry red patches on her skin. Without thinking twice, her instincts took over and she scooped the girl up in her arms, laying her head on her shoulder. Cradling Poppy’s head, she ran out to the garage, almost slipping on the tiles in the process, “It’s gonna be okay baby, I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, okay?” Tears were hot on her cheeks, but Emma knew that she had other things to worry about, her own emotions could be seen to after.

“What should I do?” Miranda came to stand beside her, wringing her hands as Emma got Matt into the car seat. “I swear I didn’t know that she was allergic-”

“Look I don’t have time for this,” not even realizing that she wasn’t wearing a jacket, Emma was already in the driver’s seat, getting the posh SUV started. Ideally, she should have taken Miranda with her to keep a check on Poppy while they drove to the nearest hospital, but she couldn’t bring herself to deal with the woman while she was also trying to keep Matt calm and his sister alive. Not without starting a fight at least. “Just call Keanu, lock up the house and then meet us at the hospital.”

The automatic door started reeling upwards, and Emma was backing out, “Are you sure I can’t-”

“You’ve done enough Miranda,” She backed out, “We’ll be at L.A General,” and with that, Emma backed into the street, shifting gears and then speeding off, hoping that she’d get to the E.R before it was too late.

Curled up next to Emma in the pale green sofa of the pediatric waiting room, was Matt, fast asleep. It was just past eight, and if they were at home, she knew he’d still be bouncing off walls, nowhere near ready for bedtime, but Emma had passed his tire off as a consequence of the hustle and trauma, it was certainly enough to have her eyes heavy. But Emma couldn’t sleep, not when the doctors hadn't yet come to update her on Poppy’s condition. By then, in just about an hour, she cried, hyperventilated quietly and almost screamed several times. All she could think of was how Poppy having that life threatening reaction was all her fault. She shouldn’t have left Miranda alone with them, she should have told her to read the list, checked on them instead of stalling in the kitchen. Something, anything.

Sitting across from her, on one of the single seats was Miranda herself, worried, though not half as frenzied as Emma. Maybe she was just good at keeping it at bay. They hadn’t spoken since she’d gotten there, instead, Miranda had opted to anxiously flip through magazines provided while Emma had struggled through trying to get Matt to have a sandwich from the cafeteria and a little carton of milk for dinner, almost losing her mind when he fought her, but eventually getting him to have some of it. And like she couldn’t bare to sleep, she was also too sick to her stomach with guilt to eat.

Her thoughts had left her sinking, and when Matt had succumbed to slumber, Emma had let the rest of the room fade to nothing, one mantra playing on loop in her mind, ‘just let that sweet little girl be okay.’ Keanu had been unreachable, so they'd left several voicemails, and Emma vaguely remembered that he’d mentioned that he had a meeting about a movie he'd worked on as a producer and then another with his agent, though, when he came though the white double doors, motorcycle helmet in hand, his eyes were red, his hair a mess there was an urgency in this long strides. “What the hell happened?” Were the first words that tumbled out of his mouth as he looked between Emma and Miranda, who both stood at his entrance.

Immediately, Miranda rushed to his side, sinking into his side and letting his arm go around her waist. Before Emma could process his question, Miranda was the one speaking, “I have no idea,” she shot Emma an unreadable look, though at the last second, there was devilish glimmer in her green eyes, “Emma came home and made them snacks, and next thing I know Poppy’s having a reaction.” Figures that out of all times, Miranda would remember her name, it would be then.

Her jaw hung slack and for the longest minute, Emma was at a complete loss for words. Though, her mind came up with a long list of the things she wanted to say, what the fuck? Being at the very top. “I….” She stuttered, wanting to instantly clear her name. But then, in a rush, Zelda’s words came back to her, Miranda always gets what she wants and stay out of her way. “I…” Even if she did tell the truth, Miranda was Keanu’s fiancée, who would he believe anyway? The hired help or the woman who he wanted to be the mother of his children. Emma was pretty sure she already knew the answer, best not to fight it, especially since she was clearly already on Miranda’s bad side. “I’m sorry,” fighting tears was hard, and the anger that heated up Keanu’s face was frightening, “I didn’t mean to- to- I just-”

Cutting off her stammering, moving his hand from Miranda’s waist, tossing his helmet to a chair and finally running both his hands through his hair. “How could you be so careless?” He hissed loud and venomously, “You could have killed my daughter,” the only reason he wasn’t full on yelling was because Matt was sleeping nearby, but Emma could tell that it was barely holding Keanu back and the low tone didn’t make his words sting less. “There’s a list for a reason, you know that. But now, my daughter is in the hospital because you were careless! What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I am so, so sorry Keanu,” hot tears streamed down her face, from tired burning eyes. Her hiccupped breaths made Emma feel like a child being scolded at recess and all she wanted to do was have a fissure in the floor open up and swallow her. “I would never hurt Poppy, not intentionally, and I swear, as soon as it happened-”

“She came and told me,” Miranda interjected, intent on only making the situation worse, a hint of a smirk threatening to twist her lips, “And I told her that she had to take the children to the hospital immediately. Poppy could have died, for God’s sakes!”

A strangled sob threatened to wake Matt, and Emma had to clasp her hand over her mouth. How could someone be so outrightly vicious, going as far as shoving the blame on another person. “Maybe hiring you was a mistake,” Keanu determined, and Emma’s eyes went wide, definitely not prepared for what came next, “Maybe we need to reconsider you as their nanny.”

“What?” Emma swallowed thickly, that couldn't be it. From the minute they met she knew that Miranda hadn’t liked her, but fired? Never seeing the twins again or Keanu, she didn’t think it would go that far. “Please don’t-”

“I think you’ve said enough,” Keanu raised his hand, motioning for Emma to stop, passing it over his face before turning away.

Emma needed that job, and she adored those kids. Hell, she might have even been falling for Keanu, but she was not prepared to be humiliated even further. And maybe, if Miranda was going to be a permanent part of the Reeves household, it was better that she didn’t stick around. She could put up with a lot, but being someone for an entitled celebrity to cast undue blame on wasn’t one of them. Passive aggressive insults, snide remakes, being a bag holding mouse and walked all over, she could take. But being humiliated in public, for something she hadn’t done? Being treated like she was an inept child and not worthy of having an explanation or a chance to clear her name? That was where she drew the line.

“You know what Keanu,” Emma felt around her bag, eventually pulling out the keys for the SUV that she used to drive around the kids, “Miranda,” she hissed vehemently, “Maybe I should save you both some time,” finding a spot of courage, she strode up to him, Emma shoved the keys to Keanu’s chest, not caring if he got a hold of them or not, “Cause I quit.”

From the minute he held the keys in his grasp, feeling her fingers brush his and subsequently watching Emma walking out of the waiting room, Keanu knew he’d made a mistake. Emma couldn’t just leave, his children adored her, he…...well, he wasn’t too sure about what he felt for her, but he did know that he didn’t want to lose her. The whole firing quip had been an empty threat, fueled by stress and anger. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath, “Mandy, you stay here,” he started walking off, hoping to catch Emma before she could leave the hospital.

“Where are you going?” She grabbed his bicep, “You can’t just leave me here with him,” Miranda gestured to Matt, still curled up sleeping, not knowing that the nanny that he’d started looking up to had just walked out on them, and it was all his father’s fault. “Besides,” she reasoned, tone even and cool, “If she wants to leave, you should let her. She’s lazy and irresponsible.”

“Wha- no,” Keanu shook off Miranda's grip and by extension, her words, “Emma is not lazy, she works her ass off for my kids, and irresponsible? It was a mistake,” in an instant, his mind was changing and Keanu was regretting the way he’d handled things with Emma. She was obviously devastated knowing that she’d put Poppy at risk, and he had just made it worse, “Allergies happen, she has to learn. And I do too. I'm sorry,” he began the walk to the doors, “But I have to go find her.”

Keanu hadn’t meant for things to go awry, or to force Emma to quit, but he had just been so upset; worry and fear morphing into anger, causing him to lash out. In her three months with their family, that was the first time that she’d made any sort of mistake. Emma had probably committed the list memory and believing that she could make such a careless mistake was becoming increasingly hard. It just didn’t make sense. Emma treated his kids like they were her own, and that was only one of the many reasons why Keanu couldn’t lose her.

Thankfully though, he was able to catch up to her just as she was headed for the curb, arms wrapped around herself to combat the night’s chill, her sleeveless cotton shirt, with a little knot over her navel not really doing her any favors. “Em!” He jogged up to her, speeding up when she walked faster, “Emma, please, just wait.”

“What?” She turned, olive cheeks tear stained and taking on a reddish tint, illuminated by the street laps lining the parking lot, rage and hurt intermingling, “What do you want?” She heaved, and Keanu hated that he’d made her cry. She didn’t deserve to cry, she didn’t deserve anything he’s given her back there. Emma was a marvelous person, who was exceptional at her job.

“I’m sorry,” Keanu breathed, shaking his head, stepping closer, “You’re the best nanny Matt and Poppy have ever had; they love you, they listen to you and they’d miss you a damn lot if you left. I’d miss you,” his features softened, his eyes pleading, “I shouldn’t have flipped out on you like that, I wasn’t even there and mistakes happen. I know that you wouldn’t put either of my kids in danger,” he slumped his shoulders, and Emma looked away, swiping at her eyes. She was fighting shivers too, Keanu could see it; it had rained earlier that day, and a distinct dampness along with an uncharacteristic chill still hung in the air. Not thinking much of it, just not wanting her to catch a cold, Keanu shrugged off his riding jacket, stepping closer and reaching around Emma to drape it over her slender shoulders, taking the opportunity to grip them after, “Please don’t leave us Em. I'm begging you.”

“I’ll stay,” she clenched her jaw, wiggling out of Keanu’s grip, “But not for you, I’m staying for those kids. And next time you want to accuse me of trying to kill one of your children, maybe you should dig a little deeper first."

“What?” Knitting his brows, Keanu watched as she started towards the hospital’s entrance, his coat swallowing up her frame, not even offering one backwards glass before going through the automatic doors.

Three Days Later The house had been exceptionally quiet since they’d returned from the hospital, Keanu had asked Emma to tell the tutors to take the rest of the week off, and Poppy had been recovering with her brother almost constantly at her side. The doctor warned them that Poppy’s allergy to wheat could have been deadly if they hadn’t gotten there sooner, and when Keanu had hugged Miranda in relief, while Emma was still wearing his jacket, she had to pretend it didn’t sting.

As a direct, though relieving side effect though, Miranda had been actively avoiding her, and Emma could tell that Keanu was too. That was, until late one evening, after Emma had put the kids down for an early bedtime and had resigned to her own room, getting into comfortable shorts and a loose camisole after her hot shower, deciding that a glass of wine and a movie on her laptop would be the perfect end to an easy Friday. The knock on her door and been soft, lacking urgency, and when she pulled it open, seeing Keanu on the other side, she was actually surprised, “Keanu?”

“Hey,” he smiled sheepishly, dressed like he’d just come home, still in his jacket and everything. The same one he’d lent her back at the hospital. She wondered if he’d washed it, or if he had let the fading scent of her favorite perfume linger against his skin.

Before he spoke again, Keanu faltered, almost losing himself as he drank her in, tiny cotton shorts boasting her smooth, toned legs, the fabric of her top stretched across her chest and Emma's long, drying tresses swept over one shoulder, leaving the slender column of her neck exposed. A wedding band that hung on a thin gold necklace settled against her skin, Keanu knew it was her father's, she'd mentioned when he asked if it belonged to someone else, someone like a husband. Remembering himself, Keanu took in a breath, trying to pull himself out of the trance that he'd fallen into, “Can I come in?”

Nodding, Emma stepped back, pulling the door open a little more, “Your house, your bedroom,” she tried to return his smile, still feeling the tension between them, not sure if it was a good tense or a bad one.

“It’s your room,” Keanu countered, serious, though not harsh, “As long as you’re here with us, its your home too, and your room.” Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he bent his head, dark mane curtaining his handsome face, smile fading. “I think I owe you an apology,” he shuffled his feet awkwardly, “No, I know I owe you an apology.”

“Keanu-” Emma tried to stop him, though he cut her off, not the way he had the last time, that night, it was softer, as he pleaded with her to just hear him out.

“I really need to say this,” Keanu raised his head, his whiskey gaze meeting her hazel orbs, and he tentatively toed a step closer, “What I said the other night at the hospital, I was way out of line,” he sighed, going slow so so he wouldn’t fumble over his words, “What I’m trying to say now is; I know it wasn’t you that caused the reaction.”

“What?” Baffled, and immensely relieved, Emma felt a mountain of stress that she hadn’t known was there, rolling off her shoulders, “How?”

Chuckling dryly, Keanu shook his head, moistening his lips, “When I came home, and saw those cookies, I knew it couldn’t have been you. I mean, you bake, but not with organic peanut butter and almond milk. I had my suspicions back at the hospital, you probably know that list better than the back of your hand,” he raked his nails through his beard, “And then I asked Matt, and he told me that it was Miranda that made the cookies. So I'm really, really sorry, about all of that.”

“Oh,” the soft exhale left Emma’s parted lips, and truly, she couldn’t believe that she was actually getting an apology from her boss. Not sure of how to proceed, she gnawed on her lip for a second, “What’re you gonna do?”

Huffing, Keanu smirked, “Nothing. Knowing Mandy, she’d just deny it anyway. Besides, it was an accident,” If Emma wasn’t mistaken, she could have sworn he sounded a little bitter.

“Thank you,” Emma smiled, happy when Keanu returned the gesture, “I know you didn’t have to apologize, but it means a lot to me that you did.”

“Uh, yeah,” grinning breathlessly, they lingered like that for a moment, until the air grew flustered, and Keanu noticed her wine glass on the nightstand and computer on the made bed, mumbling about how he should get out of her hair.

Though, when he was on his way out of Emma’s room, he absently grabbed his right shoulder, rubbing and rolling the joint, “You okay?” She halted him, “That looks like it hurts.”

“Yeah,” he winced, trying to downplay it, even if Emma could see right through his façade, “Went to the gym this morning, now I’m starting to think that my trainer was right when she said I’ve stayed away for too long. Nothing to worry about though, just a little sore.”

“Maybe I can help,” she had no idea where the suggestion came from, or why she hadn’t tried harder to keep it inside, but there was really no going back anyway. Clearing her throat, Emma blushed, “Why don’t you take off your jacket, and sit on the bed?”

Just as flustered, Keanu inhaled deeply, wanting to oblige, but not sure if he should, “You don’t have to-”

“I want too,” taking initiative, Emma approached him, leaning up on her toes, her eye line barely meeting the back of his neck as she urged his jacket off, folding it in half and draping it over the arm of an accent chair. His biceps strained against the sleeves and Emma swallowed the little flirtatious comment that sat at the tip of her tongue. “Sit, please. I insist.”

Nodding, Keanu went over to bed, sitting on the edge as instructed and then watching intently as Emma crawled up behind him. Her bare knees grazed him as she adjusted herself, and it wasn’t long before he felt her small hands on his shoulders, kneading slowly. Her fingers applied the perfect amount of pressure, and when she rubbed the base of her palms over them, the sensation was close to orgasmic, “Shit, Em…..” Keanu groaned, feeling the tension start dribbling away, “That is…..amazing.”

Giggling musically, she just carried on. The muscles beneath his t-shirt were far firmer than what she expected from someone his age, and touching him like that, seemed more intimate than Emma had intended. “That’s good, cause you are so tense. You’ve gotta take it easy Keanu,” she chuckled.

“I know, its just….I’ve got a lot on my plate,” he voice dropped lower as he closed his eyes, submitting to the pleasure. It had been a long time since he’d let someone take care of him like that, since someone even offered to take care of him like that, and not even Miranda’s touch felt that way, so warm and soothing. Keanu would be lying if he said he was okay with it ending. “I’m just glad I have you though.”

“Oh?” Emma slowed down, leaning forward so her unrestrained breasts were pressed against Keanu’s back when her face reached the side of his. By the time he turned to face her, their lips were a mere inch apart, and it wouldn’t have taken much for her to just kiss him. “Well I’m glad I’m here for you,” she whispered, her hot breath fanning his face.

“I need to ask you something,” Emma could have sworn that Keanu was leaning in, and his eyes searched hers, longing reflected.

Mesmerized, Emma barely registered his words, only anticipating what she thought might come next, “Okay.”

“I uh….” his gaze fell on her perfect, plump lips, “I was just wondering, would you go to Paris with me?” Her heart leapt and while it wasn’t the question she’d been hoping for, Emma was already excited, “With me and the kids I mean.” Suddenly, as fast as it was created, the moment was gone, and embarrassed, Emma pulled away, trying to refocus her attention of Keanu’s stiff shoulders, “I have to be there by next month for a premiere, and since I’m gonna be spending my birthday there, I thought I’d take Matt and Poppy too. Obviously, if you have other obligations here, I wouldn’t want you to leave them.”

Disappointed and confused, Emma’s response was void of enthusiasm, “No, no I don’t,” swallowing tightly, she tried not to cry, hoping her shame wasn’t audible, “I’d love to go, part of the job, right?”

Keanu took a minute before he responded, though, when he did, his somber tone seemed to reflected hers, “Yeah, I guess so.”

*****

Tagging- @harrisongslimited @magnificentclodpiebanana @keandrews @greenmanalishi @rdjloverxxx @danceoftwowolves @planetkt @wheretheriversrunintothesea

#keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves fanfic #nanny au #fanfic #fanfiction #keanu reeves au #au

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rjshepofftheshits · 3 years ago

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Annual medical report - 0150 part 2

by Shepherd ( acting medical officer)

well it's that most wonderful time of year again. no I don't mean Christmas, don't be silly! its exactly 3 weeks after I asked everyone to come get their flu shot, no one listened and now everyone has the flu! I took the shot of course, but thanks to all of you I still managed to get sick. don't get to lie down and recover like everyone else does of course. if one of you gets sick, you come to me. where do I go when i get sick? back to work obviously.

i'd like to give a special shout out to Demyx for bringing it into the castle this year , not washing his hands properly and coughing all over the Grey area without a mask. Cheers Dem, i love being the only doctor in a castle of 15. did you know in a typical hospital, 1 nurse looks after a maximum of 4 patients? by my math that means im doing the work of 3.5 people. when you're feeling better xemnas, i expect to see 3.5 times pay in my account.

anyway, everyone is drugged up to the eyes on nightquil so i finally have 3 minutes to myself. thought i might finish that report for you, a little light reading while you're down with the sniffles.

-Shep

Saix

you wouldn't know from looking at him, but No.7 is another chronic caller to my office. It's a shame really, he does so well to look after himself and yet he still spends so much time feeling poorly. If you'll recall, his current role is due to his propensity to blackout during the prodromal stage of a migraine. You of all people should understand how unpleasant and frustrating they are, even when properly treated. since removing him from missions, he's been a less frequent visitor in terms of injuries. i would like to note one outlier however: that rather large X on his forehead. you wouldn't know anything about that, would you Xemnas? when i tried to ask him myself, he bit me. (note to self, reorder a supply of tetanus vaccines for the supply closet.) Recommendations: Saix could do with reducing his stress levels. might i recommend removing that stick from his ass? failing that , maybe take up a nice relaxing hobby?

Axel

by all known laws of man and nature No.8 should have died several times over this year alone. I'm starting to wonder if Axel has perhaps been the victim of a witches curse for the obscene amount of bad luck he has with health. where do i even begin? well ,he went into anaphylaxis after being exposed to poison ivy in twilight town ( saix informs me he suffered a mild allergy as a human in radiant garden). if it weren't for 13 and 14 quickly dragging his sorry ass back here, and remembering the epi-pens we keep in the kitchen he surely would have expired. then there was the "minor" throat infection that evolved into Strep throat and then into a tonsil abscess that nearly closed his airway. No.8 was on antibiotics and bedrest for nearly 3 weeks and he still talks funny if he turns his head the wrong way. then there was the time he fractured his wrist doing a hand-stand on a low wall (roxas tells me he was trying to impress a girl.) AND THEN there was the time he got a concussion sledding down a hill with roxas and xion on vexen's shield. i don't even know what to say to that one. life has it out for axel and frankly i don't blame it.

He's the reason i had to start counting the sheets in and out of the laundry room, since he encouraged the children to try and make parachutes for sitting on the clocktower. at this point i genuinely believe axel died a while ago but he's thankfully too dense to realise it. recommendation? no8 is a menace to the health of himself and everyone around him. he needs to be locked in a bubble wrap room with no corners so he can't hurt himself. failing that, he needs an actual adult to supervise him. i don't care if he's 25, he's failed the most basic requirement of being an adult: dont be less responsible than the actual children. i'd nominate saix but i dont think he'd handle the stress of looking after 3 kids at once.

Demyx

demyx is an odd duck. he has has good reasons to be in my office ( this recent bout of flu being one of them) and yet he still prefers to fake things in an attempt to get a sickline from me. Recently i have been playing him at his own game, to great effect. He came to my office with a minor wound he received in beast's castle insisting he had caught tetanus. now,keeping in mind i have all of our vaccination records and that i myself gave Demyx his PTD jab, there was no need for any concern. still he insisted he needed a booster and 2 days off to recover. i said ok and brought out the syringe. but first i told him i needed to make a "guide hole" for the real injection. i had one of my 7 inch doll making needles resting on my desk. i'll spare you the details, but needless to say No.9 hasn't been malingering in my office since. was this a little cruel? perhaps but im not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

other than swinging the lead, his only major complaint is repetitive strain from playing the sitar. my recommendation to give it a rest for a few days of the week fell on deaf ears. (badum tss)

Luxord

ah Luxord, my week would be so boring without your fanciful stories of how you came to be injured this time. Keeping with his character, No.10 likes to gamble with his health. if i were a betting woman, my money would be on expired risotto and not Luxords intestinal fortitude.

as with xigbar, his frequent partner in crime, Luxords mischief tends to be of his own making. while he usually manages to escape his ill fated ventures unscathed, some things have really bitten him in the ass over the years. i think the two worst occured in wonderland. there are a few plants in wonderland that are fond of potions an elixirs. if you feed them one, they'll often give you a "surprize". i'm not sure what luxord was expecting but i doubt it was a giant acid spitting azalea. His coat protected him from the worst of it but he still wound up with several nasty chemical burns. they've long since healed but the scars will take time to fade.

A few months later, being a glutton for punishment, Luxord returned to wonderland and encountered a certain Pink Cat. . Luxords attempts to learn more from the creature established 2 things: 1) luxord is very allergic to cat dander and 2) the cat has very sharp claws. with his face scratched and his ego bruised, i think No.10 has learned his lesson (but i wont hold my breath)

Lastly, I know Luxord enjoys pint as much as any englishman but he needs to give it a rest. my supplies of aspirin and patience for his hung-over ass are running thin. He may control time but he is not a young man anymore. please stop doing shots like a sorority girl on freshers week...or He could at least invite me for a change.

Recommendation ? i'm giving No.10 a book on probability for christmas. perhaps then he'll realise that the chances of xigbar's cooking + his stomach equating to something good are slim to nil.

Marluxia

where I live, doctors are perfectly within their rights to refuse to treat difficult patients. Xemnas believe me when i tell you i am this close to exercising that right. Were i treating Marluxia's health conditions alone, there would be no issue. the problem is i must also contend with his over inflated ego and consistent, unending insistence that he knows better about medicine than i do. Do you people think i went to clown school? should i change my title to head buckaroo of the kiddy coral??? i swear to you xemnas, by all the stars in the sky i am one more "wouldn't it be better if-" away from taking 6 months stress leave.

ok. i've had a coffee and i think im calmed enough to jot down some of No.11s ailments. Marluxia has a moderate case of lactose intolerance. Mostly, this is managed with changes to his diet ( he has been vegan for several years now and is still insufferable about it) as well as the odd lactaid for when he "accidentally" consumes dairy ( how the fuck do you "accidentally" eat my entire cream cake marluxia, tell me!)

Aside from this marluxia suffers from a mild case of hayfever. ironic for someone surrounded by roses 24/7. i've noticed it seems to be more a case of flare-ups rather than consistent irritation. ie, some flowers from some worlds bother him more than others. I suggested No.11 kept a diary, noting times, worlds, weather etc to try and pinpoint his triggers . However, encouragement do any of the legwork in his own care has proven unsuccessful (perhaps you would also like to be spoon fed ,Marluxia, since you're so reluctant to lift a finger to help yourself.)

Recommendation? find Marluxia another doctor to deal with his bullshit, because i quit. FINE FINE FINE. A REAL recommendation this time. Marluxia needs to learn to do more for himself. at present time i'm the only person in the castle who is willing to cook vegan meals. when the rota falls on someone else, marluxia usually defaults to snacks, which are neither filling nor healthy. i just don't have the time to be his personal chef , despite his demands otherwise. Pick up a cookbook, arrange your own dietitian appointment and take some responsibility for once.

Larxene

Xemnas, if you think for one minute larxene and i are friends because we are the only two grown women in the building you'd be all kinds of wrong. We are friends, but not because of that, because generally the only thing we get sick from is your and the other members bullshit.

I remember the moment i knew we'd get along and it was actually thanks to you! You were give a lecture ( one of many) and quite confidently (and incorrectly) stated that nobodies don't bleed. Larxene and i shared a look known to all women . the "this man is an idiot" look. or perhaps it was more of a "i have a bin upstairs that says otherwise" look. Either way, we have you to thank for this friendship. many drunken escapades, poor decisions made at 4am and friendly roasting of the other members ensued over the years.

Her health? No.12 is in fine condition. she's fast on her feet, knows a little first aid and white magic and isn't prone to the kind of stupidity the rest of you are. I'd be quite confident in betting that Larxene is the only person in the castle who'd survive more than a week without me.

her one and only health complaint is a minor deviation in her septum from what she believes was a childhood accident. she's grown out of the nasally voice that is so common with the condition, but still snores like a broken radiator. Aside from surgery, the only thing i can offer her is otc anti-snore strips and ear plugs for everyone else.

Recommendation? i've seen her spend more time with Xigbar lately. that should be nipped in the bud, with extreme force if necessary. Larxene destructive tendencies meeting Xigbar's penchant for mischief seems like an accident waiting to happen. thankfully for larxene, i don't see HER being the one who turns out worse in the end.

Roxas

i will put this as politely as i can. if roxas survives to adulthood it will be a miracle. the number of times he has narrowly avoided disaster are almost innumerable. simply put, the boy is flying by the seat of his pants: he doesn't know dick about shit when it comes to being alive. He talks to strangers, eats anything offered to him without question and is generally far too trusting. I don't know who's bright idea it was to pair him with Doctor death-defying himself, Axel, but they need a stern talking to with the sharp end of a stick. he's fallen off his chair where nothing gathers twice this week alone. thankfully, there doesn't seem to be a brain inside his skull for him to damage.

as far as i can tell, he is a perfectly healthy 15 year old boy. completely indistinguishable from a child with a heart. He is certainly moody but he is going through puberty ( not to mention hes living with all of us and is probably the most normal one.)

the only thing of note about him is his frequent bouts of narcolepsy. I am very reluctant to do a lumbar puncture on a child so young to determine the cause but given that he and No.14 have this (among other things) in common, i think we can safely assume its due to his ties to (REDACTED) yes? with vexens...absence, perhaps you and No.7 would like to finally fill me in on what the fuck is going on with these kids?

Recommendations? Roxas is a child, cut him and No.14 some slack. all they seem to do is work! when was the last time you let them have a lie in or even just go outside and play? when was the last time any of us had a lie in??? They're only going to be young once , Xemnas. let them enjoy it for gods sake.

Xion

Xemnas i have nothing to say about xion. or rather i WOULD if you or Vexen let me anywhere near her. Do you both so easily forget who vexen had playing nurse during his earliest experiments?

cut the bullshit, i know a (REDACTED) when i see one.

#kingdom hearts #organization 13 #organization 13 oc #shepherd #shut up shepherd #org 13 #kh character musings #saix #axel #demyx #luxord #marluxia #larxene #xigbar #roxas #xion

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