#i love that you learn and use medical skills and i like (most) patients however i don't like half my coworkers 😅

[arthenaa]

nocturne (interlude) — mizu x f!reader

synopsis: it seems as if you've always managed to bump into your father's regular in untimely situations. it also can't be helped that you think he's absolutely handsome.

content: reader is a daughter of a medic and an apothecary, golden retriever x black cat trope, might contain historically inaccurate terms (not that well versed in the edo period or japanese culture. forgive me), mizu will be referred with he/him pronouns, mizu being emotionally constipated ig, slight mention of violence and gore, fluff, pre-relationship, meet cute, sfw.

a/n: heyaaa :D its been awhile since ive posteddd. considering this as a break from comms and sch!! ill try to be more active in posting as my xmas break is approaching hehe <33 current hyperfixation is mizu from blue eyed samurai. (I HIGHLY SUGGEST WATCHING IT !!!) enjoyy part 2!! (my love mine all mine)

You can still remember the first time you met him.

It was quite easy to recall the memory with ease. It was after all one of the nights where there weren't many customers fluttering about to avail your father's services in medicine due to idiotic accidents and miscalculated duels. You watched your father pull out herb after herb, vial after vial, stitch after stitch as more and more swordsmen of all ranks came in and out of the shop.

You were quite well-known around town as the daughter of the medic—often smiling and huffing about. Some say you were too naive to be comfortable and accommodating to your father's customers but others also claim you were elegant and a ray of sunshine due to your approachable and easygoing nature. None of that mattered anyway, not when the field of medicine was your only focus in life.

Your father doesn't like to call you his apprentice but you knew you were his. After all, with all the knowledge he's passed down unto you, you might as well run your own apothecary but alas, you still had much to learn.

It was also a quiet agreement among men that no one pays too much attention to the daughter of the skilled medic and apothecary. You suppose it's because of your father's standing and reputation that most men would rather cut off their arms than get on the bad side of one of the only medics who can actually do a decent job in life-threatening situations.

Which brings us to the current topic at hand.

It had been a cold winter that night. Your father had been busy making fresh medicine at the behest of a high lord in one of the rich provincial states up north. It was up to you to man the front and be alert in case any wanderers might walk in asking for help.

The harsh breeze of that winter night was your first cue. The doors had swung open which left you scrambling off your seat then a second later, a man with a lean stature stumbles his way through—arm clutching the side of his stomach.

Your breath hitches as he props himself against the wooden pillar. He looks up at you, blue eyes clear and intense that it left you speechless from where you stood.

"I-I," He gasps for air, eyebrows scrunching from the pain. "Help-I need—"

You wasted no time in aiding him as you took wide strides to his injured form, arms holding out to keep him steady as he began to wobble back and forth. You scream for your father, worried that the man before you would pass out at any moment.

Thankfully aware of the situation, your father prepares the receiving area. You look back at the injured patient with worry in your eyes as you further assess all sorts of damage on his figure.

However, you can't help but find yourself entranced by his clear blue eyes. Despite being on the brink of utter exhaustion, he has managed to keep himself awake perched up on your shoulder.

He locks eyes with you, blinking slowly, and just as you begin to get lost in those blue hues of his, his body begins to fall.

"Sir, wait—!"

Then he's out like a light.

The next time you met him had been purely coincidental.

After that night, the man left quietly like the leaves falling gently along the stream. He left quite a hefty sum of money on your father's desk and kept the bed clean at his departure. It's safe to say that your father was overjoyed by the payment.

Your father had sent you on an errand to town to gather some supplies from a supplier he trusts. He had been busy attending to patients and manning the counter to be the one to get the package himself.

"You have nothing better to do anyway, might as well be useful to your old dad," Your father scrunched his nose playfully as he placed a bag of money on your palms. "And if a man approaches you, remember to use that knife I gave you and make clean perforation at the jugular vein—"

You had stopped your father right there.

It didn't bother you that much and this also was an opportunity to get some leisure time. You did as you were told and saved a bit of money for window shopping.

Stumbling upon an artisan selling hair ornaments, your eyes immediately dart toward a golden hairpin with imitations of sakura leaves. Upon reaching out to inspect it, a hand collides with your own causing you to let out a gasp.

"Apologies—" Your eyes dart up to look at the stranger but is met instead with familiar blue eyes, this time under the disguise of orange tint sunglasses. "Oh! It's you."

The man furrows his eyebrows in confusion. "Are you Mr. Gojo's—?"

"Daughter?" You perk up with a smile. You shift from heel to heel at the intensity of his gaze. Somehow, you're feeling quite nervous with this gentleman. "Yeah. I caught you that night."

"Ah," The man nods, awkward in his stance before turning back toward the array of ornaments in front of him. "Thank you."

"I-It was no problem," You stammered, hands smoothing out the fabric of your kimono. "It's what we do after all."

There's a hum of response coming from the man before silence ensues between the two of you. He had gotten back to analyzing other items that the vendor was offering and you could only stand there, discreetly watching his every move.

You didn't have the opportunity to take a good look at him besides his eyes that night. Your father seemed like he had recognized the man before you and ushered you out of the room before you could have the chance to offer help. Though, now, you could see that he had a proportionate height—a few inches taller than you but still tall nonetheless. His shoulders evoke confidence with every move of his body but his face talks of the mystery hidden under the guise of his kasa. He was pretty, yet... handsome. You've never come across a man who could embody both sides of the spectrum.

"Do you need something?" His voice had startled you out of your daydream causing your cheeks to flush. He raises his eyebrow with his ever-perpetual glare. You give him a sheepish smile.

"I've never gotten your name, sir." You purse your lips, tilting your head as he squints his eyes at your request.

"My name? Why?"

Your mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water at his response. Why? What does he mean why? This man was truly cynical, you think.

"Well, I saved you, didn't I?"

"Correction. Your father did." The man deadpans. You giggle at his tone, eyes crinkling in amusement.

"Alright, no need to get so philosophical with me," You jest, trying to get him to lighten up to you. You take a step closer, trying to gauge his expressions as you give him a lighthearted smile. "Is getting to know people a crime now?"

The man sighs before looking at the array of hair ornaments to your right. He then grabs the hairpin you were looking at and tosses a bag of coins toward the vendor. He places it within your palms before adjusting his cloak. You flinch at the sudden gesture, unaware of his intentions.

"It's Mizu." He says before turning and leaving without further explanation. You stand, agape as the man further blends in with crowd with each step he takes away from you.

This man—No, Mizu, surely is interesting.

This next meeting was one you were thankful of.

Now, it wasn't as if your meetings were solely limited by chance. He became a regular after your father's incredible work on him. You watch him arrive usually at the end of every week, either looking to restock the medicine that your father gave him or get himself treated for an unwanted injury.

You tried interacting with him during his visits but Mizu always either cut the conversation short or grunted in annoyance. He never tried to entertain much of your whims and only left you grasping at straws for whatever possible chance of interaction he might give you.

Although, despite being cold towards you, he still has the heart to help you in mundane tasks whenever he encounters the chance. For instance, upon seeing you struggling with the basin, he immediately walked over and carried to where your father is with ease. He also grabbed your freshly bought basket of fruits and guarded you on your way back home. He even thumped the back of your head lightly with his hand on his way out while you were fixing up the front.

He was an enigma. A puzzle you desperately tried to solve but always failed.

The thought of his gentlemanly actions had always left your heart thumping faster and louder within the confines of your chest. Wanting to know him, get closer to him, see the corners of his lips upturned—anything to see a version of him only you can keep.

It also seems that your father is familiar with his master. You hear talks between them, asking about the well-being of a man named 'Master Eiji', the one whom Mizu calls his swordfather. You ought to know better than to eavesdrop but somehow your attention has always been led towards his very existence.

Your father had always been strict about you ever since you were but a wee girl. He had expressed the importance of having a fruitful marriage with someone who is of your deserving. He, after all, was in a true love marriage with your mother and was together for at least 25 years before your mother succumbed to her illness at the age of 45.

It also didn't help that you were deemed the sunlight of the town, often getting several interested looks from promising men. But all your suitors couldn't take the intensity of your father's expectations. It's safe to say that you won't be getting married for awhile.

"Just stay here, my daughter," Your father sighs as he serves you seconds of your favorite food. "Who the hell cares about marriage anyway."

You laugh, reaching out to pat your old man's hand. "It's going to look bad for you if you don't marry off your one and only daughter, y'know?"

"That's precisely why I don't want to do any of that," Your father grumbles, taking a sip of his soup. "Work here, eat, sleep, go have fun. That's what your mother would've wanted anyway."

You were grateful for your circumstances, yes, but you've always wanted to help out as much as you can for your dad. His reputation as a skilled medic can only take so much before others will come to expect more. So as long as you're in his care, you try to help out around his shop as much as you can.

Although you wonder if your father would allow him to—

Ah, forget it. Convincing your father was a lost cause.

Back to the current task at hand, your father had tasked you to gather some herbs from the forest near your humble abode as it is less taxing for your finances when you have easy access to one nearby. Gearing up for the coldness of winter, you stepped out of your house in pursuit of such herbs. With a hop on your step, you wish to finish your task sooner than later to prepare for a certain gentleman possibly visiting later at night.

The only you thing you didn't account for was the possible danger you'd be encountering.

"Listen, I-I don't want any trouble," You slowly backed away as a group of men began surrounding you. It was uncommon to encounter bandits around this area as this was situated near the town. You're not so sure as to what prompted this criminals to stage a robbery in broad daylight.

"Oh, c'mon little miss," One of the bandits chuckled. He twirled a knife in his hand as he approached you menacingly. "We just wanna know what you're up to."

Your breath speeds up as one of his companions playfully advanced with a jump in his step. You flinched back, heartbeat thumping as the crunch of leaves around you signified their slow advance towards your figure. You clutched the knife your father gave you within your hands, ready to use it in case one of them tries something.

Jugular vein. Neck. Neck. Vein. Keep it fast. Right side.

"Perhaps we could do something fun, darling? I'm sure you'd love it." Wide grins and loud laughter erupted from their lips.

Vein. Lethal point. Could head straight through the liver. Artery. Perforation.

Your head had begun to ramble, your father's words echoing within the depths of your mind. Just as you adjusted your grip on your knife and one of the bandits had began to finally get whatever they aimed for in the first place, a breeze of wind suddenly alerted you of a new presence.

You shut your eyes in fear as one of the men at the far back screamed.

"What the fuck?!" The leader bellowed as he watched his man crumple to the ground, holding what was left of his dismembered arm. The other bandits begin turning towards the new opponent, swords ready as they watched him step over their comrade.

You open your teary eyes, locking gazes with the familiar hues of blue hidden under orange tint. There's some sort of hardened glare as Mizu looked at you up and down, assessing your well-being within a matter of seconds.

"This is Takayama's jurisdiction," Mizu's deep voice bellowed as he placed his hand on the scabbard of his sword. "I suggest you leave."

The leader lets out a scoff as he widens his shoulders to appear more menacing to him. Mizu only looks at him under the guise of his kasa.

"You are outnumbered, samurai," The man smirks. It might've been intimidating with the number of men that surrounded Mizu but you were well aware of his prowess as a swordsman and completely had faith in his abilities. "Your talks of dominance do not affect me."

Mizu chuckles, one hand reaching up to push back his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"We'll see about that."

"Thank you," You smile widely, eyes crinkling as you grab his extended hand.

The bandits groaned in pain as they crumbled to the ground. Some have even passed out from the harsh hits that Mizu had inflicted. You watched him twirl and move with elegance, slicing and hitting with precise angles that left you in awe at his performance.

It took at most 15 minutes for him to finish all of them and another 3 minutes for you to pick your jaw off the floor and fix yourself up.

"It's no problem," Mizu nods at your gratitude. He holds your hand firm as you wobble back and forth to stay back in balance. "Although, I advise that you venture towards areas within the town vicinity. This area is bordering outside of Takayama, thus the bandits."

"Ah," You let out a soft laugh. "There were more herbs here. I thought it was safe."

Mizu doesn't reply back as he gazes at you from the comforts of his glasses. You flush at his stare, still not being able to handle its intensity. You look down to busy yourself with, staring at your conjoined hands before finally taking notice of a scratch on the side of his hand to his wrist.

"You're injured," You whispered as you pulled his hand close to yours. You hear Mizu's breath hitch as he stumbles slightly at the pull of your hand. You look up at him as he furrows his eyebrows.

"I-It's fine, it doesn't hurt." He tries to reason with you but your grip on his hand remains steady.

"You saved me so I'll repay you by treating this. Alright?" You give him your best smile and suddenly the samurai doesn't have the heart in him to say no. At the sound of his reluctant silence, you enthusiastically pull out your satchel filled with medicinal tools. It was handy that you always kept your tools with you no matter where you went.

You applied antiseptic, brushing it with a clean cloth along the wound. Whether Mizu felt the pain or not, he only remained as still as a rock while you worked.

"You're early today," You try to make conversation as you clean his wound up. Mizu stays silent for a few seconds before replying.

"I had free time," He says. "I... was also out of medicine so..."

You hum, nodding along his words as you make gentle strokes to ease the pain (if he ever felt it).

"If you ever need to go out like this again," He picks up the conversation making your heart skip a beat. There's a pause of silence before he continues. "Let me—If I'm there, let me know. You don't need to endanger yourself like this."

You let out a quiet laugh as you finally wrapped his wound with a white strip of cloth. You look at him with softened eyes, reveling in his slightly flushed cheeks and gaze dulled by sincerity. There's a pause of comfortable silence between the two of you, only lost in each other's gazes.

You slowly reach out, hands pausing as you communicate a request for consent. Mizu only gives you a small nod before you reach out to pull off his glasses. Those same beautiful blue orbs stare back at you as you revel in their gaze.

"You're more handsome like this," You whisper as you take a step closer to him. Snow gently falls around you, cascading in gentle flow as you breathe out puffs of air. Mizu tilts his head with an upturn of the corner of his lips.

There it is.

You flush in his gaze as he reaches up to brush a stray hair away from your face. "You're jesting," He says with a quiet tone.

Your gaze at him doesn't waver. "I'd say yes if you asked me to marry you."

Mizu let's out a chuckle, eyebrow raised at your bold response. "You are one dangerous lady, Y/N. Does your father know that?"

You roll your eyes at him. "How could he know when all he does is keep men away from me," You tilt your head playfully, "Although, I do wonder why he often keeps you close. Perhaps, he's found you to be worthy of a man."

Mizu laughs at your praises, shoulders shaking as the two of you stand close to one another, basking in the soft breeze of the winter sky. He lifts his hand up and flicks your forehead. You flinch back, holding your forehead in pain as you give him a glare.

"Ow?!" You frown as he looks at you with a smirk on his lips. "What a way to turn off a lady!"

"You're too adorable to be a lady," Mizu teases as he crosses his arms over his chest. He tilts his head as he looks at you with squinted eyes in thought. "Kind of like a.... puppy."

Your jaw drops at his comparison causing him to release a few chuckles. It wasn't fair that he was out here causing poor things to your heart and raised by a father who was direct and determined to achieve the things he wanted in life, you didn't allow yourself to back down.

With wide strides, you easily reach where he stands before standing on your toes and grabbing his face as you placed a chaste kiss on his cheek.

"Wha-?!" His face flushes a deep red as he moves back holding his cheek. You flash him a cheeky grin as he looks at you with wide eyes.

"I'll be waiting for your proposal, Mizu," You giggle, swaying back and forth with your hands tucked behind you. You put on his glasses before leaning slightly forward with eyes squinted playfully. "Or shall I be the one to propose, hm? Seeing as your blushing from just a kiss on the cheek."

Mizu takes a few seconds before collecting himself. There's an unreadable look on his face before makes careful steps towards you. You watch him, curious as he stops in front of you—hand reaching out to pull his glasses off from your face. You expect him to start berating you for invading his space but what you received after was certainly something you never took into account.

He leans down and gingerly places a kiss on your lips. Your breath hitches as he presses himself close before pulling away all to fast. Your lips tingle as you watch him put on his glasses back with a smile.

"I'm no coward, Y/N," He adjusts your cloak as you remain speechless in front of him. "I don't make promises I can't keep."

And just as he enters, he walks off with quiet footsteps, leaving you grasping at whatever was left of your brain after what he just did. Your face flushes a deep red as your fingertips touches your lips with shaky movements.

Did this man just—

"Are you coming?!" He calls over from the dirt path back to your house. You stumble in your footing as you rush over to him.

"I-I'm coming!" You stammer as you gather your things and rushed towards him. He greets you with a smile and this time with his glasses tucked away. Blue hues greet your flushed form and suddenly an overwhelming realization washes over you.

Oh, I'm definitely not going to let this man go.

a/n: MY WIFE MIZU MY WIFEEE,,,,, planning to make a pt2 idk lemme guys know if u want one. will also fix my archive, tumblr's getting messy. NOT PROOFREAD but will fix if ever i do go back on this after my finals. HOPE YALL ENJOYED THIS!

[adore-gregor]

Sooo my summer job was pretty good ^^

[calxia]

By chance do you have any thoughts on Aether and Phantom or anything with Phantom and the older ghouls? I'm quite curious to see your take on it.

I still have yet to give my anonymous self a name.

- Curious Nameless Anon

One day I'll actually learn how to control myself when writing asks but that day is not today so have almost 1k of build-up to Phantom meeting Omega for the first time Anon!

Phantom’s not very good at his quintessence magic.

He was summoned from the pit during a time when there were no quintessence ghouls in the abbey to teach him, and even back in the pit his magic had only just settled into being. There was Swiss, who knew some basic quintessence skills, but Phantom couldn’t ask him about it after the rough start he had with the others. It was fine. Phantom handled having little control of his magic just fine.

Like yeah sometimes he would accidentally jolt people with pure quintessence if they got too close, and yeah, he couldn’t even heal a papercut or slightly ease a headache, but he managed. He’d never accidentally scorched someone with it and he’d never melted someone’s brain accidentally so it was all good. And sure, he couldn’t really switch off the whole quintessence empath thing but it was only overwhelming some of the time. He had been handling it just fine for the tour anyway so who cared if he couldn’t do what others could?

Copia apparently.

When they returned from the tour for their winter break all the band ghouls got assigned their chores, but instead of getting a chore assigned Phantom was pulled into Copia’s office. Papa looked exhausted from the tour and seemed like he had aged 10 years from where he was sitting hunched over at his desk. The young ghoul stood in front of him nervously playing with his tail. He was too anxious to sit down. Why had only he been called into Papa’s office? And why did everyone else get their assigned chores but not him?

“Do you know why I’ve called you into my office Phantom?” asked Copia. The ghoul shook his head briskly and shifted anxiously where he stood.

“Normally, quintessence ghouls will help out in the medical wing while not touring,” started Papa,” However am I right in saying that you do not have the skills or experience to be of any use there?”

Phantom tucked his head down in shame. He knew that he wasn’t useful to the clergy outside of being a kind of decent guitarist, but Copia saying it out loud made it hurt even more. He was hardly even a good ghoul, let alone a good quintessence ghoul. He couldn’t even do the basic skills that most quint kits could do because he’d never had anyone to teach him in the pit.

“Aether and Omega are due back next week, so you will be put on cleaning duty until then and they will train you when you return. We need to get you all trained up before the higher-ups realise you are unskilled, si?” Copia said.

He froze. He’d heard so much about the older quintessence ghouls in their absence. He had been summoned to take over for Aether after a tuberculosis outbreak had decimated one of their sister chapels and the two elder ghouls had been sent over to help tend to the sick and dying. They had already left the ministry before he’d taken his first breath surface side so he had never met them. They were highly respected and loved by the clergy, and even more respected and loved by the current and past band ghouls. Phantom had been present for many of Special’s rambling speeches about how much he missed Omega and how Omega was one of his favourite ghouls.

He was nervous about studying under two such renowned ghouls, but it was necessary. If the higher-ups found out just how useless he is he’d be sent back to the pit no matter how well he played. He could only hope that they would be kind and patient with him.

The week passed quickly. Phantom spent his time flitting between his cleaning duty and practising what little he could do with his magic. He’d gotten to the point where he could form little harmless sparks of magic across his body, but this was hardly useful in the long run. The band quarters were empty. Everyone was busy greeting their returning pack members but Phantom had elected to stay in his lonely room. Why should he go and disrupt the reunions when he had never met them before?

A sharp knock echoed through his room, and Phantom paused where he was idly strumming on his guitar in thought. All the ghouls should have been celebrating the return of the quintessence ghouls so why was someone knocking on his door? He placed the guitar on his bed before opening his door.

A tall broad ghoul blocked the doorway. He rippled with millennia-old wisdom and power, yet still had a somewhat calming and kind air to him. Phantom shrunk back a little and peered up at the other through his salt and pepper fringe.

“They warned me that you were young, but they didn’t quite tell me that you were barely old enough to be separated from your birth pack.” Stated the ghoul, his voice rich and velvety in a soothing way.

“No wonder you don’t know any quintessence control then Kid.”

At that statement, he lifted his hand to let it rest between Phantom’s horns. The younger relaxed under the soft, familial touch and rumbled out a quiet purr. The larger ghoul chuckled and started to run his fingers through the soft curls.

“Don’t worry, me and Aether will make sure you learn everything you’ll ever need to know kit.” And with that Aether let the smallest trickle of quintessence touch Phantom and watched all the tension drain from his form.

Omega may not have been around for the quintessence ghoul’s first few months, but he sure as hell was going to make sure that such a sweet ghoul would be treated well from that point onwards.

[yandere-sins]

o k a y- SO IK THAT DOC AND NURSE ARE BOTH MORE DOMINANT BUT THINK ABOUT THEM BEING SUB AND HAVING A PRAISE KINK ♡ LIKE IF THE READER SO MUCH AS SMILES/COMPLIMENTS THEM THEN THEY MOST DEFINITELY ARE WEAK IN THE KNEES :) I NEED THEM ON THEIR KNEES, BEGGING AND COMPLETELY UNDER READERS CONTROL 👀🦋🦋

Warning: Yandere, Sexual Content

To be fair, they can never completely be under the reader's control, but the praise kink and submission don't just apply to the bedroom for them.

It's probably the reason they fell in love with you in the first place.

You were kind and pleasant and, unfortunately, sickly. They liked you because you tried to make the best out of your situation, complimenting your nurses and doctors for their hard work and always smiling even though you felt like crap. You always thanked Doctor profusely for reacting to your problems immediately and adjusting your medication when things became tough; his inspections hurt a lot of times, but you never complained. And whenever Nurse had to put another needle in your body, you'd stay extra still and bite your lip, thanking her for making it quick and with her skilled hands. It was almost more polite, conversationally compliments, but they appreciated the effort you went through despite being unwell.

It's just been these little things, your gentle demeanor and kindness, even through your sickness, that made them want to spoil and coddle you. You were the only patient they'd lay next to when times were tough, sneak extra pudding and candy in when you were allowed to indulge in them, and hold your hand until you fell asleep. The way you treated them, accepted all their kindness in return and thanked them for trying their best made them want to heal you so desperately—and keep you with them at the same time.

Now, after you finally get to go home with them, they are all too happy to serve you on their hands and knees, waiting for you to demand it from them. It's just them bickering over who gets to give you the medicine this time, casually implying they could give it to you through a kiss, or if you want, they'll feed it to you or serve it on their body for you to take off them. They know that until you can do it on your own, give orders, and ensure they are properly conducted by the two, they must break you in gently, dominantly. They can't have it when you cry and say they are doing something bad to you when they are just trying to teach and make things enjoyable for everyone involved. However, there's still a lot of refusal and hesitation, which makes the two of them believe you need to watch and learn some more before you can do it.

They'd much rather kneel before you, eat you out, and ask if this is satisfying you. If touching you there and kissing you here feels good for you too, and if maybe, just maybe, they can grind against your hand or knee. Oh, please, please, please, kiss them, make them yours, say you love them. Nurse is almost in tears begging you to please touch her and allow her to get off with your hands, and Doctor wants to hear you say it's okay if he rubs his cock between your thighs and that it feels just as good for you. If you were to just mutter a single word of praise, they could die happy. But as of late, after they started doing things you weren’t always on board with, you stopped praising them, even though your moans and screams are treacherously close.

The problem is just... you don't give in. For a long, frustrating, painstaking time, you won't. That's why they need to dominate you first, show you how it's done. Force you to use your mouth on them until you learn the wonders that servicing others does for one's soul. Maybe if they deny your orgasm and tease you until your cough returns because of the strain, you'll realize how wonderful it is to be with them. How good they could make you feel if you just give in.

And they'll do it until you crack, no matter how long it takes.

Until they are all you can think about, just like you are for them.

[zimssecretspy]

𝕄𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕪 𝕄𝕦𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕚𝕞𝕒𝕝 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤!

I adore this team and have so many headcannons so what better to start this blog off than with these guys?

TRIGGERS: Kidnapping, Mental disorders, Mentions of injuries, Mentions of guns

Leatherhead:

-Leatherhead has earned the nickname from Slash as the 'house wife' jokingly. Leatherhead is the main one who cooks, makes sure Pete is kept entertained, makes sure Rockwell takes breaks from his work to eat and drink and sleep, makes sure the whole team keeps up on cleaning the warehouse that is their make-shift lair, he does a lot for the team and they're ever so grateful (even if his dinner recipes are less than favorable, Leatherhead is still learning.) This big reptile is loving, caring, but if you dare fuck with anyone on the team you will be his next chew toy.

-Leatherhead takes daily anxiety medications and sleep medication. Rockwell created him medication to aid in his panic attacks and night terrors. Of course, even with the medication it doesn't go away, and sometimes will go off to Pete's room to sleep. He'd go to Slash but Slash may freak out seeing Leatherhead have a panic attack and may think there's a genuine threat. Rockwell would be the best to go to but he is always in his lab fucking around with dangerous stuff.

-Leatherhead is the most patient with Pete. He'll play with Pete by letting Pete chase his tail, he'll get Pete mirrors, bread, and make sure to reexplain anything if Rockwell is getting irritated. When the team said that Pete was being taken off duty, Leatherhead was understanding, but didn't want to kick Pete out. So, Pete stays in Leatherhead's room, which is actually helpful with Leatherhead's night terrors. He never has to spend the night alone or move to what is now Mondo's room.

-Leatherhead loves squeaky toys, and teddy bears. Mikey will bring him stuffed animals and now Leatherhead as a whole collection in his room. In his free time he'll chill in his stuffed animal horde listening to music.

-Rockwell diagnosed Leatherhead with Anxiety, PTSD, and depression. Leatherhead is very good at using his coping skills to get himself through rough patches and is good at vocalizing to the team what he needs.

-Music: Leatherhead likes 80s-90s rock, jazz, Rnb, and acoustic pop. However, he isn't too picky, and will listen to any records he finds. Those are just his favorites.

Slash:

-Slash is like the authoritative dad, he kinda has to be being the leader. Sometimes though he'll accidentally push the team past there limits, it doesn't take long before he realizes because Rockwell won't hesitate to snap at him, or slap him. He'll then give the team a day off from training and the whole day would be filled of him trying to make it up to them.

-He can't cook for shit. He almost burned down their makeshift kitchen. He's learning more though.

-Slash has pulled a Leo dozens of times, meaning he's damn near killed himself to protect the team. Leatherhead and Rockwell have threatened to put Slash on house arrest if he tries to do anything without them again or tries sacrifice himself.

-Slash goes to visit Raph twice every week. They're still pretty close, even after what happened with his brothers. Raph understands that the mutagen screwed up his brain and that he's a lot calmer and more logical now.

-Slash goes through a punching bag every week. It's a good thing Rockwell knows how to steal. He steals about 5 at a time and keeps them in what they converted to be a storage closet in the warehouse.

-Slash loves to watch WWE, True Crime, and John Wick during his free time. Sometimes Leatherhead will join but Leatherhead will go off to listen to music eventually. He also still likes eating lettuce, but instead of one leaf he'll eat half the head.

-Slash was diagnosed with depression and anxiety. He also has relatively bad anger, hence the weekly replacements of his punching bags. He's not the best about opening up with his feelings, but eventually Leatherhead or Rockwell gets him to talk. It'll just take a while and they'd have to keep revisiting it.

-Music: Rock, Metal, Death trap, and occasionally some pop. He also likes a little bit of rap music, it reminds him of living at the lair and Mikey playing his music.

Pigeon Pete:

-Pete is very easily entertained, whether it be bird or dog toys, bread, TV, music, or playing with Leatherhead's tail, he's the easiest to keep entertained, despite this he can still get in the way of the others at times.

-I'd think that Pete was removed from the team for his own safety and the other's safety. While yes, he was annoying to all hell, they didn't want to kick him out without a genuine reason. During a mission, Pete almost got shot by a human and Slash got in the way to protect him. The bullet luckily didn't hit anything vital, or cause too much damage, but was still the 1st strike given Slash already told Pete to stay out of human sight. Another time, Pete clumsily fell off the roof and didn't fly in time, he landed on a human giving himself a minor concussion and the human a hairline fracture on the back of her skull. Second strike. The third and final strike was when Pete almost spilled a loose mutagen canister they found on Rockwell. Luckily Rockwell moved out of the way. The team decided to remove him from any outside missions, but still provide him a home, and he now resides in Leatherhead's room.

-He loves children cartoons, specifically Duck tails and Powerpuff girls. He doesn't like to admit to it though. He also enjoys Friends and Big Bang Theory, though he may not understand some jokes.

-He gets scared by horror movies. Slash and Rockwell love them however. Anytime Slash or Rockwell grabs the remote Pete speeds off to Leatherhead's room.

-He is hard to anger. He can get sassy but never that angry, there's rare times where he's actually angry. His reactions when pissed vary, if its a enemy he'll try to attack with blunt items. If it's someone from the team? He's petty. He'll take pillows and blankets and take them to doc's room, smother the pillows and blankets until there's fur on them, then drops them back off into the team member's room. He will also hide kitchen appliances, Lab equipment, or use up the hot water. He learned these tactics from Mondo.

-Pete is diagnosed with anxiety

-Music: Anything but metal. Metal scares him.

Mondo Gecko:

-Mondo is hardly actually home. He goes out to skate board often, or read comics with Mikey. When he is home he's helping out with cleaning, reading comic books, working out, or playing video games. He still wants to be a normal teen, despite his circumstances.

-He isn't the best fighter, and is still clumsy, but Slash sees potential in him. He does have some skill in using his legs from all the skate boarding, and coordination, but he struggles majorly with using his arms. Slash eventually equipped him with a kraang gun that Rockwell stole, and has Mondo going through online gun safety classes because you can never be too cautious with those things.

-Mondo secretly sees Slash as like a father or older brother. He's constantly reminding Slash of how grateful he is for him taking him in, he will find any excuse to spend time with him whether it be reading comics, working out together, or training against each other, and Slash doesn't mind in the slightest. As long as Slash isn't busy, he'll gladly spend time with the fellow reptile.

-Mondo struggles heavily with his self esteem and appearance. His parents rejecting him took a major hit to his mental health. The team always is there to help him through days where he struggles the most. Slash and Rockwell both hold a hatred for his parents for what they did to him.

-Mondo knows a little bit about how to drive, but not much. He cannot park too well. One day he stole a kraang truck carrying mutagen, tried to park it, and ran into the fire hydrant in the process. Rockwell is in the process of teaching him to drive. He's broken 5 street signs, 2 fire hydrents, 15 traffic cones,

-Mondo loves pets. He begs the team for a lizard or a dog. Slash however refuses for the simple reason that he fears their warehouse may get destroyed in another kraang attack, and wouldn't want an animal harmed.

-Mondo is a talented dancer. Sometimes if he hears Leatherhead or Rockwell's music he'll try to get Pete or Slash to dance with him. Pete always is up to dance with him, even if he's horrible at it.

-He likes action films, comedys, and some horror films even though he screams at every jump scare.

-Mondo was diagnosed with anxiety, depression, and PTSD. He isn't the best at vocalizing if he's having a rough day, but if Slash starts the conversation Mondo may open up after a bit.

-Music: He loves all forms of music except country, he likes a couple country songs but doesn't like 99% of the genre.

Dr. Rockwell: Warning- Gay headcannons, if you are homophobic or simply don't like these headcannons, please scroll.

-Rockwell and Falco used to be in a relationship. Their relationship used to be very healthy, up until Falco started experimenting with the mutagen. Rockwell used to be on board with the experiments until Falco grew obsessed with psychic powers, Rockwell then started voicing his concerns and disapproval. Falco was going to break up with Rockwell over this, before deciding he'd use him as a test subject. He told Rockwell to come to the lab saying he dropped the project, when Rockwell came in Falco knocked him out with a golf club.

-Because of the traumatic fallout of his and Falco's relationship and him kidnapping him, Rockwell refuses to talk about Falco at all. Anytime someone mentions Falco, Rockwell will levitate them out of the room, or try to change the subject.

-Rockwell moved from the UK to attend Colombia University. He always had a love for big cities, and his parents wanted him to follow his scientific ambitions. He met Falco when he obtained a job under him at their laboratory.

-Rockwell knows piano, acoustic guitar, and electric guitar, and knows how to sing. He doesn't like singing in front of people however, and it's rare he'll play anything for the team. But sometimes he'll sing along to songs in his lab when he thinks the team is sleeping, however Slash and Pete are typically outside the lab doors listening.

-Rockwell is the team medic, If anyone else tries to do his job he gets very upset because they could've treated the wounds wrong. He also gets very upset if the team misses their medications and will force them to take it somehow.

-Rockwell sheds like a husky. There's so much fur. It's everywhere. On the couch, on Mondo's clothes even though Mondo isn't anywhere near him, all over Rockwell's room, there's not a single place that doesn't have his fur. He has to use his psychic abilities to conduct experiments because he doesn't want his fur to mess it up. He also isn't allowed in the kitchen.

-Rockwell, despite making sure everyone else take care of themselves, is highly neglectful of his own needs. He forgets to eat all the time, doesn't drink water- only energy drinks and coffee, forgets to brush his fur, doesn't take his meds, doesn't sleep, he just works most of the time. Slash and Leatherhead have to check daily if he's had food and taken breaks.

-Rockwell's helmet gives him headaches and migraines. He always forgets to take it off, even when he does sleep. The amount of pain medication he uses genuinely makes Leatherhead worried.

-Rockwell goes to see April often to help her with her psychic abilities. Sometimes they make fun of Donnie a bit during this, but Rockwell does worry over their friendship and keeps telling April that she needs to tell Donnie clearly if she wants a relationship or not, and to tell him if she wants him to stop flirting. He also visits Donnie quite often to assist in mutagen experiments, and just to banter with him.

-Rockwell loves true crime, horror films, The Rocky Horror Picture Show, and Repo The Genetic Rock Opera. He tends to watch these by himself on his laptop in the lab, he doesn't want to frighten Pete. Some nights he'll watch in the living room with Slash though.

-He painted his bedroom with chalkboard paint, and did the same to the lab. His lab and room is coated in his experiment notes.

-Music: Rock, Nu-metal, Classical, Tim Burton soundtracks, Pop, and acoustic pop.

-Rockwell is diagnosed with anxiety, depression, PTSD, and anorexia. He doesn't tend to talk about how he's feeling, instead he takes it out in bouts of anger, sarcasm, and sometimes destroying his own lab. Normally if someone tries to talk to him he waves them off. He also can't sleep, due to his night terrors, instead he prefers meditating.

These are just opinions on the characters/team. Don't take this to heart or too seriously. I'd love to write stories based on some of these though! Let me know which other characters/fandoms to make headcannons for, or what headcannons to add in.

[thebibi]

i LOVE all your avh and helward takes!!! also if u want... elaborate on gentleman thief vh? bc that concept is Hilarious, do you think he continued regularly robbing people as a professor w jack? and how do you think jack got involved in the criminal aspect?

Oh thank you!

I think, considering how skilled the professor is with breaking into houses, he might have been a thief. I say gentlemen thief because I imagine van Helsing was a cool and young jewelry thief who never used violence. Perhaps, his open mindedness made him seek out stealing as a thrill, but after a while it made good money too.

I think it also helped him get interested in medical school, I can imagine him discovering other doctors participate in grave robbing and wanting to know more about the human body. Like perhaps he transitioned from stealing jewelry and money to stealing for doctors, and before you know it one of his clients is funding his education!

I also wonder if in this conquest, he discovered some supernatural elements? I don't want to say he knew of vampires per say, but maybe he encountered strange medical cases that didn't add up with contemporary science, like people being buried alive, or ghost sighting, or something like that.

I can see this discovery being a traumatic event for van Helsing, so he takes it as a sign that he has to give up most of his thieving. This is where van Helsing attempts to reinvent himself as a totally honorable man. He's a doctor now, his appetite for knowledge is insatiable, he throws himself into studying all sorts of things and gains a lot of respect from the academic community! I also think this is around the time he starts to to take his faith more seriously.

However, I think..later at one point, maybe due to his son dying and his wife slipping away, I think van Helsing started to go back to his older habits of crime. This time though, he's the favorite amongst his students, he's teaching them tricks of the trade that he feels will help them become better doctors. Like breaking and entering to save a patient that no one has heard of in a few days, or pranking insufferable doctors who were prejudiced against their patients and let them die. And of course, performing illegal autopsies to determine the cause of death. At this point he is perhaps, lashing out at the injustices he's seen, in his own kooky way.

And lastly, yeah I think Jack Seward was one of those students who readily accepted van Helsing's criminal teachings! I also totally prescribe to @cattuladaily 's headcanon that the gangrene sucking incident happened when they were cutting up an illegally obtained cadaver, which is why it held such a lasting impression on him. Its funny, but Jack could have been a totally mediocre student, but the sucking of blood is what cemented him as van Helsing's favorite. Incredible.

I feel like with Jack, coming from a much stricter society, challenged van Helsing with his extremely rational mindset. And I think van Helsing responded in kind with committing crimes to prove Jack wrong and widen his world views. I think that's why Jack ultimately has to be with him at the scene of the crime, and that kind of evolved into him helping the professor and learning how to pick locks.

Anyway, that's how I see my timeline for van Helsing's backstory....hope this makes sense! Thank you so much for the ask!

[savsotjournal]

A Reflection on Occupational Therapy Student's Journey within the Multidisciplinary Team

Learning, growth, and collaboration are all important parts of an occupational therapy student’s journey to becoming a qualified practitioner. It can be thrilling and intimidating for an occupational therapy student to enter the field of healthcare. Working in a Multidisciplinary Team (MDT) in a chaotic hospital setting is an important part of our education. The multidisciplinary team (MDT) brings together a range of medical specialists to offer comprehensive care, they each bring a distinct skill to the care of their patients (Cequier et al., 2020) and dealing with the multidisciplinary team (MDT) is the most important component of this journey to becoming a qualified health practitioner. This blog explores the journey I’ve encountered as an occupational therapy student in a hospital setting collaborating and dealing with the multidisciplinary team.

The multidisciplinary team (MDT) is made up of experts from a wide range of fields, including psychology, speech therapy, physiotherapy, and nursing etc. (Rice, n.d.). Having a multidisciplinary team allows you to give your clients more comprehensive treatment, which is one of the biggest advantages. When several professionals work together, they may offer a more customised and comprehensive approach to fit the particular requirements of every client (Kay, 2023). During my second year, we as students weren’t as involved with dealing with the MDT as we are now so at first, figuring out this complicated medical network was intimidating, it was like trying to solve a 5000-piece puzzle. However, when I understood the collaborative culture, I was able to take the knowledge from the MDT and use it in collaboration with my knowledge to provide comprehensive care to my clients.

During finals in my clinical placement, I had the pleasure of working with the multidisciplinary team. I was able to communicate with the doctors and discuss my client’s diagnosis, I was able to call the orthopaedic workshop regarding my client’s corset, and I was able to speak to the nurses regarding my client. I also was able to look in my client's file and see the physiotherapist, dietician and doctor's notes in the file. All this knowledge that the MDT has given me has helped me with giving my client a comprehensive treatment plan.

My journey through the MDT has been more than just a professional experience, it has been a very personal one too. It has forced me to embrace multidisciplinary learning and get out of my comfort zone. Most of all, it has grown my love for occupational therapy and the positive effects it has on my clients' lives.

(Landén, 2021)

Cequier, Á., Moncayo, F. G., Jané‐Salas, E., Antonio, M., Arribas, L., Vilajosana, E., Torres, E. P., & Mesı́A, R. (2020). The multidisciplinary team (MDT) approach and quality of care. Frontiers in Oncology, 10. https://doi.org/10.3389/fonc.2020.00085 

Rice, I. (n.d.). What is a Multidisciplinary Team? The College of Psychiatrists of Ireland. https://irishpsychiatry.ie/external-affairs-policy/public-information/what-is-a-multidisciplinary-team/ 

Kay, J. (2023, May 15). The pros and cons of multidisciplinary teams: maximising benefits and mitigating challenges. https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/pros-cons-multidisciplinary-teams-maximising-benefits-jennifer-kay 

Landén, J. (2021, December 13). About multidisciplinary teams and complex problems - Jan Landén - medium. Medium. https://medium.com/@jan.m.landen/about-multidisciplinary-teams-and-complex-problems-74892c8b9540 

[arisiontreatmentwoodlandhills]

A Place to Lift the Weight from Your Shoulders: Our IOP in Woodland Hills

Are you struggling with addiction and it doesn’t feel like there’s anything that you can do? Do you feel powerless watching someone you love fight addiction day after day with no end in sight? In a very real way, addiction can be like a weight on your shoulders. It’s like a burden you can’t put down that you have to carry everywhere. Here at Arision, our IOP in Woodland Hills, we can help you to find the underlying causes of your addiction so that, in time, you can set that weight down and live your life. Personalized Treatment to Address Personal Struggles Everyone brave enough to reach out to an IOP for help deserves to have treatment that’s just right for them. Yes, a personalized treatment plan can draw upon and incorporate elements of successful treatments, modalities, and the like. However, we’ve found that the best treatment is that which is made solely for the person. Thus, when you arrive at Arision for your intake, our medical staff will conduct an evaluation of your physical health, mental health, history, and so much more, in detail and depth. Utilizing those findings, your treatment will be crafted to address any and all of your struggles. Qualified Staff and the Care You Deserve On the subject of our staff, we believe that an IOP is most successful when patients can receive individual treatment. As such, we maintain a staff-to-patient ratio that ensures every patient is as attended as they should be, at all times. Through this and other methods, we’re able to provide an IOP experience which rivals and exceeds that of any number of residential treatment facilities. When you’re here, your treatment will be personalized, intensive, and effective. Luxury Amenities for Foundational Success We believe that luxury amenities, in and of themselves, do not make an IOP. However, incorporating luxurious amenities into the daily operations of an IOP organically can elevate the caliber of treatment, making experiences better for all involved. As such, you’ll find amenities here that you won’t find elsewhere, all specifically designed to fit the needs of our patients. By combining them with your treatment, we can help to better both discover those underlying causes and help you develop the skills necessary to overcome them. The Doors of IOP in Woodland Hills are Open There is no step of the recovery process that could ever honestly be called “easy.” Some steps will be easier for some than others, yet all are a challenge in their own way. For many, though, the most difficult step (or one of the most difficult) is making that first, initial call. It takes a lot to be able to send a message through a site or make a phone call that says “I could use some help.” We’re here to make that and every other step of the process if not easy then at the very least easier. To learn more or to start intake, you can message us through our site or give us a call.

[biblicallyaccurateandrogynoussex]

now allow me to fill you in on our cast of characters, all with a healthy dose of found family. (note that if i say a sexuality or anything of that sort its likely a headcanon, this show was made in like the 80s or 90s)

Captain Benjamin Sisko: human. he's like. the only one on this show who isn't some flavor of queer. he's the supportive ally and also very dadcoded (but also has like. an actual son. his name is jake and someone compared me to him once). sisko is in charge of the station! he calls all the shots and is also apparently part bajoran god? he also really likes baseball! one time (in the middle of space war) he taught all his senior officers how to play baseball so he could be petty and win against some dude he didnt like.

Colonel Kira Nerys: bajoran! she's definitely lesbian. she also used to be a terrorist, but now she's second in command! shes got a very queer relationship with the science officer, jadzia dax. her character is really fun. she's technically not a part of starfleet, since she still works for bajor, and that means she gets to bend the rules a little bit. she's stubborn, and her temper can run a bit high, which provides for a contrast with sisko. canonically, shes with odo, and their relationship is the most boring EVER except for when they got together that was so fucking funny

Doctor Julian Bashir: MY SKRUNKLY!!!! he's just a human guy but he's genetically modified because his parents are ableist! he's definitely autistic, transgender, AND bisexual. and when he was a kid, he was special needs, and learned very slowly, and his parents HATED that so they illegally turned him into a super human intelligence wise (and BECAUSE it's illegal, he hides this for most of the series). he aslo CANNOT stop committing medical malpractice and flirting with his patients its awful. hes got a Very Very Homoeroitc relationship with one Elim Garak, who refers to him consistently as "my dear doctor" (they're clearly fucking).

Chief Miles O'Brien: human, literally just some guy, goes through The Horrors regularly. i wish i could remember some of the shit the writers put him through because they do him SO dirty every time there is an episode centered around him. he's the maintenance guy and he technically isnt even an official officer. he was also on a previous show, star trek: the next generation. he's got a wife and kids and a Weird relationship with bashir. theyve at least explored each others bodies.

Jadzia Dax: i forgot her rank. actually. but she;s trill! the trill are weird because there are the PEOPLE and then there are the worms (symbiotes or however its spelled) and you can choose to get joined with a worm or not. jadzia is joined so shes got a shit ton of memories of like 7 other people (kinda systemcore /projecting) and she's best friends with sisko. she's the science officer and canonically gets with worf. they get married, their relationship is... interesting? she's very fun tho, shes got tons of skills from her worms knowledge and she regularly wins at gambling.

(THERE ARE MORE IM SENDING ANOTHER ASK AND PRAYING THIS ONE DOESNT GET EATEN)

I love the comments on how some of these guys have explored each other's bodies. Also we love queer coded guys and system coded guys. Obsessed with their names they're like so normal but to the left

[danses-with-dogmeat]

What Instruments would the Companions play?

Fallout 4 -- 

Cait: Uilleann Pipes (or Elbow Bagpipes) 

     - Okay, it's not just because it’s an Irish instrument (I mean, I'd be lying if I said that wasn't part of it), but also it's the way the unique pipes are played. The player is seated with the instrument strapped to their waist and dominant hand, using their opposite elbow to control the flow of air in the bag (rather than blowing into it like with normal bagpipes). It's a complicated instrument that requires an immense amount of physical control and discipline to play, which meshes well with Cait's physicality and athleticism. She's had the instrument as long as she can remember, finding it lying around in her childhood home. She managed to grab it before her parents sold her, and though it does sometimes remind her of them, all of the hours she spent learning to play it practically forces her to hold onto the instrument. She is wildly adept at playing it, and will sometimes do so in front of Sole, as long as they keep quiet about this ability of hers.  

Curie: Violin

     - A delicate instrument that requires dexterity and control, Curie would love the challenges that playing the violin would present. She found the string instrument in the depths of the vault before she became a synth, but held onto it thinking one day she would find someone who could make it sound beautiful. When she made the change to her synth body, she was incredibly excited to finally be able to play it, and though it took a while, she managed to become quite skilled. As a medical professional, she already has incredible coordination, so not only does the violin provide a creative outlet for Curie, but also it allows her to practice her control, since she still is getting used to just having the two hands, and all of her fingers. Once well-practiced, she loves to play softly to recovering patients in her ward. 

Danse: Baritone

     - When he first found the large horn, he didn’t really know what to think of it, he certainly didn’t consider playing it. However, once Sole explained it to him and told him how the instrument is played, he decided to pick it up one day when he was alone. He might have a hard time at first, since learning to play a new instrument can be especially frustrating for someone as hard on themselves as Danse is, but once he gets the hang of it, he's a big fan of the rich, loud sound it creates. He still rarely plays in front of anyone else (Sole and Haylen being the only exceptions), but he likes to practice in the little amount of downtime that he does have. Plus he enjoys caring for it by constantly cleaning and polishing the different pieces of the larger brass instrument. 

Deacon: Kazoo 

     - It started out as a joke, he found a little metal kazoo, discovered the manner in which to play it, and decided to have a field day with Carrington back at HQ. Later though, after practicing a number of the most obnoxious songs he could find, he found he was quite good at it and quickly he grew fond of the plucky little instrument. Now he carries it around with him almost everywhere, telling everyone that he plays it ironically, but deep down he knows that he truly enjoys it. 

Hancock: Saxophone 

     - Hancock has quite the reputation of being good with his lips and hands, and his adept ability to play the saxophone would only support this. He's had a lot of time to perfect his playing and will sometimes go up on stage with Magnolia to the delight of nearly everyone in Goodneighbor. He loves the instrument's smooth, jazzy sound and always revels in showing off his skills with a good solo.

MacCready: Harmonica 

     - An easy instrument to carry with you on the road, MacCready picked it up in his travels and messed with it whenever he knew the sound wouldn't endanger him. After a couple years, he became quite skilled with the wind instrument and would play it both for Lucy and Duncan as often as he could. He always keeps it with him, almost as a crutch at this point, even if he can't find the right place to play it, just having it with him reminds him of his travels with his son and his late wife. 

Nick: Piano 

     - Always the classic gentleman type, it's no surprise that the old detective knows how to manipulate piano keys in such a way that he seems to transport you back in time to a dark and hazy pre-war bar. The old Nick is where the original skill came from, but the synth's fingers are much more nimble than the human Nick's were. He enjoys playing whenever he can find a piano; however, be warned, if it isn't tuned, you can bet your ass he'll do his best to rectify that, which could take a couple hours at best, and a few days at worst.

Piper: Tambourine 

     - The percussion instrument was a gift from her father, so she's held onto it since she was young and always takes extra care in looking after her tambourine (she considers it the most important item she owns, after her printing press of course.) Besides the fact it was a gift from a loved one, she likes the instrument because of its simplicity and the way she can easily come up with and control her own rhythm. She fondly remembers many an evening prattling away at the tambourine while her and Nat danced the night away in a rare moment of true childish fun. Sometimes Nat will pick up the instrument while Piper is busy at the typewriter and try to create a beat to her sister's typing. 

Preston: Banjo

     - Does this one need an explanation? Preston just gives me mad banjo vibes. Imagine the joy he feels sitting around a campfire, striking up a tune that everyone knows, encouraging all the people around him to join in on the song. He tells himself that he does it for the benefit of those around him, to distract them from their troubles and the cruelty of the wasteland, but the truth is, he does it just as much to distract himself. It makes him happy to see others happy around him, and if the banjo provides a way to do that, then Preston will do his best to stay practiced in as many feel-good songs as he can.

X6-88: Upright/Double Bass 

     - This instrument is an absolute beast, coming in at about 6 feet tall and weighing about 45 lbs, but X6 would welcome the challenge of playing such an instrument; his own height and the large size of his hands providing a distinct advantage in learning how to play the bass properly. Not being of the faint of heart, X6 practices until his playing ability is nearly flawless, reveling in the deep, rich sound that emanates from his intimidating instrument. He prefers to read music and follow chord structure rather than improvise when he is playing, and he works to try and perfect every technique that he can, ranging from using a bow (arco), to striking with his fingers (pizzicato), to slapping the strings against the fingerboard. 

Fallout 3 -- 

Butch: Clarinet 

     - The poor 14 year-old was horrified when he was handed the old reed instrument when inducted into the vault 101 school band. But as Butch grew older, and his playing abilities increased, he realized he could make some pretty cool sounds with this thing. Jazz was always one of his favourite genres of music, and the clarinet allowed him to play along to many of his favourite songs. He doesn't bring the instrument with him while traveling, but he will play it when at home and sometimes will be bold enough to play for audiences at bars. 

Charon: Bass Guitar

     - He had never touched a bass before coming across one while traveling with Lone, but as soon as he picked it up, he found he had an affinity for it. Charon was patient with himself as he learned how to play, his scarred fingers both a blessing and a curse. Though it was sometimes difficult to get the chords right, he didn't have to worry about bloody fingers from long hours practicing plucking the rough strings. He comes up with a few bass lines on his own, then tries replicating songs that he hears. Charon actually really enjoys the creative outlet, and it's the perfect activity to focus on when Lone is gone. 

Clover: Flute

     - Clover treasures her flute, as the instrument was a gift from Eulogy that only reinforces the idea that she's his favourite. After all, he never gave Crimson a flute, or any other instrument for that matter. She finds it difficult at first, as she works to master her finger position and airflow, and occasionally she gets frustrated to the point of being completely unable to play; but once she gets the basics down, Clover uses the little woodwind instrument as a way to distract herself from her jealousy and tends to play it as aggressively as one can play a flute when Eulogy insists on spending time alone with Crimson. Otherwise, she will sometimes play it with Eulogy as her only audience member, but her favourite is when she can sit on her own and play the flute for herself, it makes her happy and it let's her see how far she's come since she was first gifted the instrument. When she begins traveling with Lone, she holds onto the flute and continues to play it for her own benefit, and of course, she wouldn’t be opposed to playing for Lone, if they were to ask...

Cross: Trumpet

     - She discovered the small brass instrument in her travels to pre-war military locations, and was interested in the history of the horn in regards to the old U.S. military. When she first picked it up, she wasn't a huge fan of the brash noise that comes from it, but as she grew more adept at playing it, she found she liked the sound. Cross takes inspiration from the bugle music that was played before the war, and replicates it for the members of the brotherhood of steel. 

Fawkes: Bongos 

     - He's been a fan of percussion ever since he was locked in isolation in the vault. Throughout his time there, he would often find different surfaces to drum his hands on to pass the time. Lone began noticing this little habit of his, and when they surprised him with a pair of bongo drums, Fawkes was elated. He plays them as often as he can, but usually waits until they are at home, after all, he couldn't risk losing or damaging them out in the wastes. But it's his favorite way to relax and unwind after Lone and him return from the hostile wasteland to the security of their home. He did once bring them to Underworld to play for the residents there, but he was anxious about harming the instrument the whole way there and the whole way home. 

Jericho: Maracas

     - Jericho wouldn't have the patience to sit down and learn a complex musical instrument, so maracas are a good fit for him. He found a single one when he and Lone were traveling and didn't think much of it, but thought it was interesting enough to hold onto. Once Lone explained what they believed it was, Jericho began to experiment with the instrument when he was alone (he couldn't risk Lone seeing him acting like such an idiot, with this glorified baby rattle.) But once he discovered another one, he decided he liked the sound of them together. Even though the maracas are all mismatched, he keeps any that he can find and tries them all paired with one another. He still tries to keep it on the down low, but every once in a while he'll know that Lone is listening in, he'll utter some rude comment, but continue playing as though Lone weren't there. 

Fallout New Vegas -- 

Arcade: Ukulele 

     - Arcade doesn't know how it happened, how he found the little guitar-like instrument, honestly, it was left in his tent at the fort, and he doesn't know where it came from. For the longest time, he just left it where it sat near his bed, unsure what to do with it, but after a couple weeks passed, he felt like he had to do something with it. So he started to pluck at the nylon strings, and he couldn't keep from uttering a small yelp of surprise at the sweet sound of the instrument. He doesn't play often, and he still needs to practice, but when he's alone, Arcade loves to strum the strings and come up with little tunes that end up getting way too stuck in his head. 

Boone: Cajón

     - The little, wooden, box-shaped drum is a practical instrument that isn't complicated to play and is easy to transport, making it a nice fit for the 1st recon sniper. Boone has had restless hands for as long as he can remember, and the problem has only gotten worse since the incident at bitter springs, so originally, when he found the cajón and brought it back to his room at the NCR barracks, he would tap at the different sides just as a little habit. However, when he discovered the way each side differed in pitch, he found he could manipulate the tapping of his hands in such a way to create some interesting beats. He brought it with him when he left the NCR and keeps it at his place in Novac to play with whenever he's there. Now it's not only an entertaining pastime, but it's ended up being very therapeutic for him. 

Cass: Acoustic Guitar

     - As a caravaner, you tend to pick up some of the habits of other caravan members that you meet in your travels. Originally, Cass found the guitar and made the decision to sell it, but that was before the guard of another caravan sat himself down by the fire one night, grabbing the instrument from beside Cass's pack, and began to play. When he first picked up the guitar, Cass was ready to deck him for touching one of her wares, but after hearing him play it, she couldn't help but ask him to teach her. She tends to bring the instrument with her when she can, but usually she'll keep it in a safe place so she can practice in her down time. 

Raul: Flamenco/Spanish Guitar 

     - Raul's nimble fingers are good for more than just making repairs, despite their ghoulified appearance, they still possess the muscle memory of when he learned to play the Flamenco guitar before the bombs fell. His family down in Mexico really appreciated the importance of music, and Raul still believes that it helped him get through some of the toughest times after the bombs fell. He makes it a priority to find guitar strings for when his end up breaking, and he tries to keep his original guitar in pristine condition. He doesn't play too often, but when he does, Six can hardly believe the skill in which he plucks the strings of the pre-war instrument.

Veronica: Drums

     - Every time Veronica was sent out on recon, she would keep her eyes peeled for another drum or symbol to add to the developing set she had hidden away at Helios One. It started with a simple snare, then a symbol she had found, and when she discovered a bass drum, she hid it outside the building before she was assigned guard duty, and she snuck the large drum down to her set. She loves the outlet that playing the drums provides, and though she sometimes worries someone will hear her, the risk is worth the thrill of going all out when she takes a seat in front of her drum set. After the events at Helios One that eventually led to her leaving the brotherhood facility, she makes plans to one day return to retrieve the instrument she left hidden away.

[prof-peach]

Hello Professor Peach!

I've followed your account recently and I was wondering. What types of Pokemon would I need to run a sucessful greenhouse like yours?! I know that I would obviously need Grass Types and maybe Bug Types, but what others would I need?

Thanks in advance!

From a fellow Grass Type and Nature Lover!

We have several greenhouses on the island, as we specialise in grass Pokemon, so I’ll run though what each has and why.

Seedling house

Set up for young sprouts, both plant and Pokemon based, with some areas shaded with netting, others in full sun. This space needs to be easy to clean, and you’ll find yourself disinfecting between sowing, to reduce fatalities and get the most out of your seeds!

Bulbasaur (potato) a good boy, old as sin now, but his gentle lullaby helps young plants grow, and keeps the baby Pokemon calm and settled. You DO NOT want a whole greenhouse worth of baby Pokemon crying, trust me. He’s stern but patient, and this is why he works well in this space, as he will not tolerate bad behaviour, and raises the youngsters with a firm but kind vibe. His vines are delicate and intricate enough to handle young seedlings, and because he himself is partially plant, he understands the needs of actual plants very well. His age also helps, he’s quite good at delegating and can boss the other workers around, and hold their respect. He has a few underlings he is training to help while he’s away, a sunflora, a turtwig, and a nuzleaf, all of which enjoy the work too.

Lotad, we keep a lot of these, as they tend to come and go. Usually we have around 4-5 in the seedling house at any one time, their broad leaves make them good at carrying things, moving trays of babies, and genrally handling youngsters, and they can usually learn water gun with some training, thus making them excellent at keeping the place well watered (but not too much). Their plant nature means they’re quite respective of small species,and tend not to crush any small sprouts if they can avoid it. They do however hibernate if it gets too cold, so it may be worth employing the help of a more winter tolerant water Pokemon if need be. We swap the Lotad out for Wooper in winter, they are small, not often too hard to handle, easy to find in our area, and kind natured on average.

There’s a old Pangoro that hangs out in this house, often happy to help lifting tables to move and rearrange spaces for new species, or to help do the big spring cleaning jobs each year. His disposition is far mor W gentle than normal, so I’d advise finding a patient, gentle Pokemon, who can do some heavy lifting. It’s always worth having a powerful individual here, as lots of Pokemon look to seedlings as snacks. As a defence, this pangoro works well, and birds and bugs tend not to enter the zone without his watchful eye on them.

A rather old Espeon without a tail likes to sleep in there too, her psychic powers means she can handle threats without big brash movements, and she tends to quietly spend her days just keep guard, and genrally being a watchful eye should the Pangoro mosey off to eat or bathe outside the greenhouse. This is a good example of shift Pokemon. When one is gone, the other is more alert and active as a guard. Never have just one Pokemon to a job, as they too need time out, breaks, vacations and down time to enjoy and relax. It’s too much to expect one individual to do everything.

Youngsters often enjoy a nightlight, so we let the volbeat and illumise into the greenhouse at night, to dance and keep a gentle glow in the area. The young seedling Pokemon are often stuck in pots, unable to move about yet, so they enjoy entertainment, and some are not keen on the deep dark of night outside. This settles them, and these bug types don’t eat seedlings, so they’re often great company.

In winter, we move one of greys charizard in to heat the space and protect the babies from frost. We have around 6 charizard on the island, and they are sometimes well behaved. We have the most calm and maternal in this house, she is a gentle soul, and I’d often not advise others to use this species for this work. A better fit would be Torkoal, known for exuding gentle heat continuously with enough food, or perhaps a Darumaka, Numel, or carkol. They tend to have much calmer natures for fire types, and ambient lay heat spaces well. Frost is a killer for seedlings so this is very important. As a grower, you also end up with infected or sick plant matter (trimmings and such) and the only way to responsibly dispose of that is to burn it. This keeps the risk of spreading infections far lower, and you won’t end up putting sickly, potentially fungus filled material into your compost, and in turn spreading it around. Fire is very important in the garden, in a controlled and careful way of course.

Healing house

This space is half open space, half I solated zones, built for recovery and care. When a Pokemon or plant becomes sick, they need specialist care, and sometimes they can spread their illness to others, so having an area to quarentine them and cure any issues is very important. This space needs to be fuss free, able to be disinfected easily, ideally with drains in the floor (much like you’d see at a swimming pool or something) so you can slosh down some disinfectant and ready the spaces for the next patient. Think of a glass topped kennel, that’s what you’re going for here.

Meganium, (summer) a lovely lady who’s been with me a while now, she’s quite resistant to disease thanks to her variation, and so she’s ideal for working in these kinds of environments. Despite this I would not mix her with a Pokemon who’s seriously sick, she’s more the “nurse” figure of the greenhouse, who oversees everything while I’m away. Her roles require her to be caring, and very calm despite seeing many in alarming states. The Pokemon doing this job needs to have a will of steel, and a strong stomach. Some diseases are quite unnerving to see progress. Keeping a bright outlook is a key component to this work. She’s able to emit a soothing aura, filling a space with gentle scent that can calm, energise, or even put patients to sleep. Her vines make her dexterous enough to hold tools and perform general care tasks like sweeping and watering ect.

I have befriended some Marill, a small pod of about 12, who come and go to help water and keep the place cleaned up. Their jolly natures are great for patients who are isolated while healing, and as they aren’t grass types, many of the individuals inside this space can interact with them, and not risk spreading illness (most of the time). They’re a little more rough and ready than the seedling watering team, but this is ok, as we don’t often keep youngsters in this house. They like to be paid in snacks, but others prefer toys, stories, games, and even tv time. Negotiating a fair deal for everyone is very key here, a Pokemon taut feels cheated will do a bad job. If they’re happy, you’ll be happy, trust me.

Audino, not often a Pokemon I discuss much, and don’t even use in the main lab, as this particular Audino has been trained to deal with grass issues specifically. She flunked out with her old trainer at medical college, so I took her on and tried to focus her in on something a bit more practical. She’s not able to catch a lot of grass issues due to her normal nature, and is a handy healer to have around. She’s actually quite a lazy individual, and is often found asleep in the staff room when not working.

This space will also require a dedicated burner Pokemon, a fire type to remove infected and dangerous tissues taken from infected patients. I often use Valka (vulpix) for this job, as she’s usually with me, and this greenhouse is where I spend the majority of my time, and she’s very efficient.

I advise you not use grass Pokemon so much in this greenhouse, as sick grass Pokemon tend to be more infectious to other grass types. You’ll often find me using normal, ground, or rock types, with strong immune systems, or individuals with calm natures, as this space sees a lot of unnerving things, and needs level headed individuals.

Tropics house

Also known as the hot house, as when you enter it you break into a sweat. Humidity is high, temperature is high, ceilings are high. This is a 4 floor tall building, all glass, planted like a jungle, with varying canopy levels, sunken pond spaces, and dense lush greenery. I also keep my orchid collection here, and you’ll find many bug types are drawn to the colours and smells. This is the highest skill level greenhouse behind the healing house, and I’d advise you try to start with one of the more simple ones firstly, should you be new to this kind of work. Heating this space is done with hot water pipes, and the whole building is lined with sprinkler systems that runs on a timer. Every 15 minutes everything gets doused with a thick, cooling fine mist.

This is where the Queen of my Bellossom clutch hangs around, she’s quite something to see, far larger, with soft pink coloured petal skirt, and a real air of royalty about her. The whole greenhouse respects her as she’s proven her skill as a leader many times, resolving conflicts with reason and patience. She may not be the strongest, but she’s certainly smart, and can lead with an iron fist need be. She is good with visitors, as this greenhouse is public, and open to visitors, unlike the previous ones mentioned above. She is a good overseer, and saves me a lot of time and trouble, fixing squabbles and keeping everyone calm. She is at the top of the hierarchy, and can request help from just about everyone else within this space, and they’ll oblige.

There’s a substantial Tangrowth who chills out in this zone, usually sleeping in a sunny patch at the back, he’s usually left child minding, as many of the Pokemon within have young of their own, and need a good baby sitter. Something that’s sturdy, with a lot of arms to keep tabs in them all (he just ties a vine to them and lets them run riot while he dozes) he can be quite defensive of the young but this is good, as the public spaces are more likely to be stolen from, and as we handle a lot of variants, security is needed. People like to steal young Pokemon when they’re unusual or rare.

Tsareena, a power house, acts as a guard, and works with a couple of Lurantis, who all enjoy the heat and have high prey drives. Should someone try to nab a baby, wade into a dangerous area, or start a fight within the greenhouse, they’ll step in, crushing most things in their path without too much issue. The Lurantis is actually one of quite a few, and should they become overwhelmed, they’ll call the others in as backup. This lot keep the peace physically, and can stop fights (as you don’t want broken glass in this space).

The windows need to be cleaned to keep the light levels high, so we often employ flying or psychic Pokemon to get us up higher to handle this work. I use whatever is around at the time, but often a good ladder will do the trick if you have a shorter building than ours.

Watering is actually done mostly with hoses and irrigation in this greenhouse but we do have one water type who resides within, in a deep pond in the centre. A Dreadnaw, Tobi, who came back with me from Galar quite recently. He’s very docile for his type, so we figured he’d enjoy the calm jungle vibes of this zone. He occasionally wades out to wander around and water things, keeping a close eye on everyone. Their species is renown for biting and aggression but Tobi is rather chilled out, and has taken to being the biggest water type in the space quite well. He shares his pond with a couple of small relicanth, and the odd little water type who comes in out of curiosity, along with a small pod of Lotad. He keeps things very damp, even in the dry corners, and often will listen to grass Pokemon who need extra water, and come over to assist.

No fire type in this building as all damaged or trimmed material should be collected and removed from the area, to be either composted, burnt, or used as cutting material elsewhere.

We encourage bug types in this space for the most part, as they feed other Pokemon, and also pollinate. This space has fruit trees and flowers, so we leave the windows open for whatever may want to enter to look around (and for airflow). The general temperament of the greenhouse is pretty calm, tanks to the balance of staff Pokemon, so if an aggressive bug comes in, it’s soon chased out. causing trouble isn’t tolerated within this space.

This greenhouse is abll about emulating nature, so taking trips to more jungle locations may benefit you here. I’d suggest doing detailed research, and studying established locations before building this zone, as there’s a lot of foundation work to be concidered, like water, piping, irrigation, airration, and light levels.

Desert house

Hot in the day, cooler at night, dry, often sparser in style. Very bright! This is a common space for a lot of variations, and also cacti based Pokemon. We have an array of desert species hanging out here, but also a lot of rock types. This is a petty easy going space, not a lot of water needed, but certainly care none the less.

A heater! We use a Heatmore, who seems to enjoy the general ambience, and is stroppy enough that the cacti Pokemon can’t bully him or get into too much trouble. He keeps the space hot in the winter, and not too cold at night, he will occasionally drop his workload in the summer when the temperatures are high enough without him. We trade him out with a Slazzle from time to time, should he require time out.

Watering is sparse, we call in one Politode now and then to drench the space, then leave it to dry out quite a bit. There’s of course places for Pokemon to drink from, small water features and the odd trough to get a drink from, but the species here don’t require half as much as others, and will happily go two or more weeks without more than morning dew. We tend to keep an eye on things and use a hose when we catch the odd Pokemon or plant who needs a little extra.

Cacturn is the boss of this space, and works hard to maintain a firm level of control over the many little Pokemon who live in this house. He’s old now, with many arms, not just the initial two, standing at around 9ft tall, with very thick limbs. He’s not kind as such but only really shows his mean side if you mess with him or the ones he protects. This is a space that’s open to the public, so we have to employ his power to protect from theft.

This space contains a lot of young alpine Pokemon too, bulbasaur, oddish, and some fun variants of Crustle who have plants atop their backs. There’s a strong nod to those who can handle drought, and so it’s a great starting greenhouse for anyone who’s a little forgetful. We also keep quite a few Sudowoodo and their pre-evolutions here, as they dig the dry air. They also help in creating rockery areas with their attacks and strength, that suit the area and the Pokemon within.

Carnivorous house

Not easy to plan but simple enough to keep. They need boggy conditions, lots of open light areas, and genrally this space is quite wild looking, certainly not tended, and I’d advise you get some waders or wellies for the work done here. Water types and bog Pokemon will love this space, and it should be protected from the frost, for those who do not like the cold.

Carnivine, often found hanging from vines within the space, they have a very particular diet, and I tend to run the tours for visitors to this greenhouse, to make sure no one gets chewed on. There’s quite a few colours and shapes, but they don’t do,innate the space as much as others. Their ungodly shrieking can be wonderful alarms to danger, and I totally advise having a few around, even if only for their comedic value and friendship.

The champions of this space are Victreebell and it’s pre-evolutions. I’ve kept many, and variants are something I research, so you can imagine the amount collected here. They’re very handy in summer should you get large infestations of bug Pokemon anywhere else, as their diet is all about eating other living things, and they don’t like rich soil or plant feed at all. Herd them to the bugs that bother you and let them hunt, you’ll soon have things under control again.

There’s a lot of Mudkip, Stunkfish, Quagsire, you know, mud lovers, and their watery ways can mean you have a lot of Pokemon able to keep the water levels high. This space needs to almost be submerged in water at all times, dry roots can lead to unhealthy buddies.

One thing to note is windows. You need to have access for bugs in this space. The species within have specific diets that Pokemon food doesn’t quite do justice, so allowing them to lure bugs in with their scent, and eat healthy correct diets will lead to far better health for your carnivorous friends.

Extra notes:

Theres the obvious, a standard, sturdy, average grow house. The beautiful basics to all the areas I’ve discussed above. Without just a space to store, to care, to grow, and to keep, none of the beautiful public spaces would look half as good. We have overflow greenhouses for winter, for overcrowding, for if the torterra want to come in, or if we get a large herd of Tropius sent to us who hate the frost. Grass types come in a lot of shapes and sizes, but should a large set come your way, these spare zones come in handy. If you have the space, set a few up, even if they’re storage most of the time, they will come in handy eventually. There’s a lot that happens behind the scenes, so make room for this.

THERE IS NO RIGHT SET OF POKEMON. I mean this seriously, I picked who I knew would suit the work, it’s not right for everyone. Grass Pokemon may have a good understanding of what plants and other grass types need, but you need to find species who are caring and patient. I’ve seen a lot of grass Pokemon who are fighters, impatient, stroppy and even aggressive, and they’d not suit this kind of work at all. You need to pick your team based on their personality, not just their type or species. Take your time and don’t be afraid to switch out their work load, try new things, and test an unusual Pokemon in a job position if you see potential in them. It’s a myth that grass Pokemon will be best for other grass Pokemon. I find I use a lot of other types to handle them, and often bugs will chew and eat at your grass types, so you have to pick carefully. Be clever with your research on this all.

Don’t think this set of Pokemon will take the workload off of your shoulders. A greenhouse needs YOUR time too, you need to throw some tough gloves on and get stuck in, or your team mates won’t feel enthusiastic about the work. Lead by example, work hard with them, weed and sow seed, trim, care for, and be part of the process, and it will feel all the sweeter when plants and Pokemon bloom and grow into beautiful things.

I find if you get stuck, if a Pokemon or plant won’t grow right, or keeps getting sick, take a step back, reevaluate what your method is, and take a look at their home. We forget that every plant and Pokemon has an actual originating location, and if we can emulate those conditions, their survival chances go up drastically! It’s not always easy, so don’t be afraid to google stuff, whip your phone out and have a good scroll around. There’s no such thing as a stupid question, so ask anything and everything.

A cheeky helpful tip, some Pokemon learn sleep powder, and many think that this move doesn’t affect other grass types, which is a pain because this move is very handy when dealing with difficult Pokemon. It in fact does affect other grass types, but only those who cannot also learn the attack. So an oddish can put a Leafeon to sleep who cannot learn the move, but not a Morelull, who can also learn sleep powder.

This was a BIG ONE but we have a lot of greenhouse, all catered for differently, so here’s hoping this helps your endeavours.

[uchihasakurawrites]

Until Next Time

Rating: T

Summary: When ghosts from the war come back to haunt Sakura, Sasuke's there to try his hand at warding them off. A story of comfort, growth, and realization. (Blank Period)

Word Count: 3,777

A/N: Long time, no see everyone! Thank you for your patience as I’ve worked through some writer’s block the past few months. I know many of you are waiting on the next chapter for A Lesson in Practicality, but I hope you’ll still enjoy this piece. Please let me know your thoughts if you have the time! Otherwise, thank you for taking some time to read my work. ^_^

Warning: This story contains depictions of panic attacks, PTSD flashbacks, and some alcohol abuse. Nothing too dark in here since it's mainly a comfort fic, but please be cautious if any of these topics are triggering for you.

Cross posted on Ao3 and Fanfiction.net

____________________________________

Her day begins and ends the same way every other day the past year seemed to - with Sakura walking into the hospital with a confident spring to her step and a brightness in her eyes and dragging herself out (on the rare day she had the energy to pry herself from her desk) with antiseptic or blood or a mix of the two staining her hands and the lab coat she'd forgotten to peel off.

Tonight, Sakura consciously decides not to make the effort to drag herself out of the hospital. Leaving means she'll be roped into the birthday party Ino's been planning for Sai for months, and she doesn't quite have the energy to even shower, let alone paste a convincing smile on her lips.

She spares a glance at the old clock posted right above the chalkboard in her office as she shuffles in and locks the door behind her.

8:00PM.

Fourteen hours since Naruto shook her awake and thrust her straight into a day from hell.

It's still a little too early for anyone to come looking for her yet. Naruto will notice that she's not at the bar right when he arrives, but Hinata will patiently remind him of the shitshow that was today and reason that Sakura's still probably dealing with the aftermath. (In much less colorful terms, of course; Sakura's only heard her friend curse a handful of times, none of which were in front of Naruto.) That'll buy her about an hour before Ino starts making a fuss and sends Sai or Kiba out to Sakura's apartment.

If she's not there, they'll assume she's still at the hospital, and they won't come back until it's close to midnight. Not today. Not after seeing the hallways lined with burn victims pleading for someone to find their loved ones. Not after returning home and finding that the stench of charred skin and blood isn't so easy to wash out of their clothes.

Sakura didn't get to leave. Her role just changed from a kunoichi dispatched on a rescue mission to the de facto head of the hospital the moment she crossed the threshold.

She pulls the shades in hopes of convincing her friends that she isn't here if they do decide to come looking but stops short in front of the light switch. The migraine between her temples screams for her to turn the fluorescents off, but she doesn't trust her mind not to see death in the shadows of her office tonight.

She turns them off anyways.

It isn't until she's sitting criss-cross on her floor with her too-full bookshelf at her back and a bottle of sake in her hand that Sakura realizes her hands are trembling. A splash of sake makes its way onto her carpet instead of into her cup, and she curses because it's good sake - the expensive kind that Tsunade bought her a case of after the war and no no no.

She cuts that thought there because violent memories of the war, or rather the days immediately following the war, have been intruding into her mind all day and she just can't.

A case or so of sake should knock her and those thoughts right out (or so she hopes). Years of honing her skills as a medic nin have given her a certain resistance to toxins, including alcohol, and it's why she doesn't bother to drink most of the time; social drinking is more of a waste of money than anything else. She figures that's precisely why her mentor gave her an entire case as a gift.

It isn't until she's two bottles in and there's a buzzed lightness to her body that she realizes she's crying.

Her breath seems to come faster and faster, shallower and shallower, and she wonders if the buzz and creeping, cold numbness in her fingers is because of the alcohol or the lack of oxygen. She's shivering, muscles tensed to the point of pain, but she blames it on the chill of the hospital.

Another glass will knock the cold right out. At least, that's what Tsunade used to say when she drank away the ghosts that forced themselves a little too close to the front of her mind.

It's a few glasses later that Sakura starts seeing the eyes of the dead staring back at her from the shadows at the edges of her office. She's back on the battlefield, the same smell of burnt skin and the mournful cries of shinobi finally processing the deaths of their comrades hanging in the air. She's been healing for days, but she continues to push. The fighting may be over but there are still identities to confirm, survivors to heal, and families to be notified.

Sakura knew that death was part of her job description from her days in the Academy; protecting the interests of the village often required it. Tsunade had let her figure out that the same was true of her job as a medic on her own, when she lost her first patient at fifteen. She'd learned to put the deaths she dealt with in a neat little box which she deadbolted and tossed on a shelf in the deepest recess of her mind she could find.

But death was a uniquely stubborn bastard that didn't always like to stay in that box.

She'd been awake for the full three days the war had drawn on, but the medical corps was tasked with the brunt of combing through the miles upon miles of dead shinobi for another forty-eight hours or so. They'd had help, but medics were the ones needed throughout to organize, heal, or in the worst possible cases (which Sakura and Shizune handled) show mercy to the shinobi who were alive but long past the point of saving.

Sakura nearly vomits and washes the bile down with more sake. One glass. Another.

The quiet tears have turned into sobs that scratch at her throat and squeeze her lungs. Her nails cut thin crescent moons into her forearms, and her shoulders hunch as if she can ward off the prying eyes. Sakura barely has the presence of mind to activate the silencing seal in her office - the one she keeps on hand when discussing particularly sensitive cases - before her sobs grow into half screams. She can't get enough air to manage much more than a hoarse cry, but if she can just drink fast enough, it shouldn't matter.

And so she cracks open another bottle and brings it directly to her lips, trying to focus on the burn of the alcohol on her throat and Naruto's bright smile reassuring her that everything would be fine when he first found her clutching a bottle of sake in the corner of her disaster of a bedroom.

What she doesn't count on is the alcohol making it increasingly difficult to distinguish reality from the memories that have escaped from her mind and seared themselves into the darkness around her. They become more real, more tangible, until she swears she can hear the fresh widow of a shinobi from Cloud shouting about how Sakura hadn't done enough. Another voice joins until there's a chorus telling her exactly what she feared most:

There shouldn't have been so many casualties. She should have been able to do more.

She was weak.

Her tears stop for a moment when she looks up and sees Sasuke standing in the doorway. For a fraction of a second, she almost feels relieved and tries to move to go to him, but she's reminded none of this is real, and she can't be sure which Sasuke this is. Given her current state of mind, it's probably the one who haunted her nightmares for months after the bridge and still longer after his genjutsu in the war. She takes a swig from the bottle she clenches in her fist and curls back into herself.

Sasuke's repeated calls of her name fall on deaf ears.

For his part, Sasuke is at a loss. He's never seen Sakura like this (and he'd witnessed her tears firsthand on many occasions as genin). Sure, she's always worn her heart on her sleeve and been far too open with her emotions by standard shinobi rules, but she has never seemed so broken.

Looking at the scratch marks that trail down her forearms and the far too many empty bottles of sake for someone of her stature littered on the carpet, Sasuke realizes he doesn't know this woman - and in retrospect, he never should have assumed otherwise.

From her confessions both during the war and when he made the decision to leave her behind yet again, Sasuke knows she's still fiercely loyal and has a light bright enough to forgive and heal anything it touches without her needing to make the conscious choice to do so. Her skills as a shinobi have grown to the point that she could give him a challenge if they were to spar, and he's seen her heal an entire battlefield for days on end while still fighting on the front lines.

She's become more than worthy of the title of the "New Sannin," as the original Team 7 has now been christened, and she still loves him (unreasonably so in his opinion, but he's come to realize that maybe he doesn't want her to change her mind - even if he thinks it would be better for her in the long run). But that's all he knows, and he finds himself wanting to discover more of who Sakura is now.

He has years of absence and cruel actions to make up for, and far more growth beyond that to become someone who deserves the steadfast love she's always been ready to give him.

At the moment, however, he needs to get her to let go of the liquor bottle she clutches onto like a lifeline and refocus on the present. He's been trapped by his past more times than he'll ever admit, and though he hasn't had real comfort since his mother (and Sakura, he amends), he owes it to her to at least try.

Sasuke approaches her slowly, intentionally making his footsteps heavier so that she can hear him approach. Whatever nightmare she's trapped in - he confirmed it wasn't a genjutsu the moment he broke the lock on her door after an unnerving spike in her chakra - she hasn't seemed to notice he's actually here. He bites back the guilt that surfaces at the thought that he could be part of her nightmare, but that's something they can work through later.

He crouches down in front of her, taking a firm hold of the hand that clutches the bottle to try to coax it out of her grip. She jolts at the touch, peeking hesitantly up from her knees with red-rimmed eyes and a mix of tears and sweat coating her cheeks.

"Breathe, Sakura."

Her grip loosens as she meets his eyes. He sees uncertainty waver in her gaze as she hiccups in a short breath, but then the panic snaps back down and tightens her hold on the bottle yet again.

"I- I can't."

The words are stilted, as though forcing out those two words causes her physical pain. Sasuke, however, considers it a small win as it means Sakura's decided he's real. Her breathing is still far too fast, and he knows he needs to stabilize it before she's ready to explain what's happening.

It's awkward - both because Sasuke has never done this and the fact that he hasn't completely sorted through his feelings for his teammate - but he eventually pulls Sakura far enough away from the bookcase that he can shuffle in behind her. He secures his legs around her sides and arranges Sakura so that her back rests on his chest.

It's almost annoying just how snugly Sakura fits against him, her head tucked just below his chin. A part of his mind notes how her curves seem to melt into his frame only to be ruthlessly shoved down. There are priorities, and noting how the boyish (yet annoyingly charming) Sakura has clearly blossomed into a young woman is not one of them.

Where the Sakura from his memories smelled of strawberries and artificial sweetness, the woman in his arms tonight seems as though she's been doused in a pungent blend of antiseptic and ash.

"Breathe, Sakura."

Sasuke repeats Sakura's name to ground her as he starts regulating his own breath: six counts in through the nose, hold, eight counts out through the mouth. He's sure to exaggerate his breaths a bit so Sakura can feel the movement against her back. Hesitantly, his hand comes up to trail over the marks on her forearm. His hands have always been cold, so he figures the one he has left might be able to relieve some of the sting from her nails.

He makes a mental note to pick up some basic medical ninjutsu and doesn't bother to pretend it's just for field injuries.

It takes about ten minutes for Sakura's breathing to return mostly to normal. It still stutters every now and then, but she's matching Sasuke almost breath for breath. She doesn't move away from him, and Sasuke doesn't move to shift her.

As they sit in silence, save for their own breathing, Sasuke realizes he's put himself in a position where he needs to actually start the conversation. There's no bright chatter, no smile to coax him into talking. Again, he's at a loss.

It seems this new Sakura has retained a talent for doing this to him.

Annoying woman.

"Tell me about it."

Sakura immediately shakes her head, breath trembling yet again. Sasuke sighs and guesses he should have known she wasn't going to make this easy for him. He can't blame her. If someone asked him to do the same, he would have told them to fuck off.

"Sakura."

She turns to him with a dangerous look in her eyes, a cold jade that threatens to cut him if he pushes too far. Sasuke's always been the best at serving the very same look, but it's unnerving to see it etched into Sakura's soft features.

"Dammit, Sakura. Just talk to me."

Her gaze grows warmer, but not in the way he wants. She's angry, and Sasuke isn't really sure how he could have pissed her off in just six words. Sakura being Sakura, she of course makes the reason for her anger clear immediately.

"And why the hell do I need to do that, Sasuke?"

Sasuke nearly winces at the dropped suffix on his name and tries to remember how his mother handled it when he refused to confide in her.

"You haven't been here" - even Sakura knows this is unfair as she says it, but the confusion, grief, and alcohol clouding her mind make it difficult to acknowledge how much the man she loves has grown to be able to offer this to her- "and you never told me anything when I asked you to. So fuck off, Sasuke-kun. I'm sure Naruto's expecting you."

Naruto most definitely wasn't, but Sasuke doesn't see the value in pointing that particular fact out. By the time he got to the village and was promptly dragged into the bar he had made the mistake of walking past on his way to the Hokage Tower, the idiot was already drunk off his ass. Ino was as well, so Hinata asked Sasuke if he would mind going to check on Sakura at the hospital since she and Sai needed to stay to take care of their significant others.

Sakura finally moves to get up, tipping over a half-full bottle of sake in her efforts, but Sasuke can still see the tremors in her hands and the familiar strain of a jaw clenched against tears. Her eyes still dart towards the corners of the room.

Sasuke's well aware of the ghosts that can haunt those shadows and resolves to help Sakura put hers to rest, even if it's just for the night. His legs tighten around Sakura before she can fully pull away from him, and she falls back against his chest with a huff and a glare that's more tired than venomous.

Sasuke sighs and lowers his head. His bangs cover his eyes as he decides to voice at least part of the feelings he's managed to process regarding Sakura. He's not sure exactly how to categorize how he feels about her yet (mostly because his mind still can't comprehend why someone so bright has loved him through so much darkness), but he wants to help and that's about all he can offer her at the moment.

She deserves more, so much more, but he hopes it's enough for now.

"I'm here, Sakura."

He wants to add that he's not going anywhere because someone who will stay is only a fraction of what Sakura deserves, but that's not a promise he can make.

He feels Sakura's surprise as she stiffens against him, and her breath stops altogether for a few worrying moments. Sasuke wills himself to stay relaxed at her back, still maintaining a steady breathing pace should she need the rhythm again.

Sakura's thoughts are a whirlwind that she tries to grab ahold of but slips right through her fingers. She's torn, half of her mind shattered glass that urges her to open up and share even a part of her pain so that she can just stop breaking. Sasuke's here, showing his own vulnerability (however slight) in hopes that she'll trust him enough to do the same, and she's not sure when she'll experience this side of him again.

The other half, near-solid stone with only spiderweb cracks, whispers that voicing the memories that haunt her will only confirm her weakness in Sasuke's eyes. Instead of seeing the warrior who destroyed the ground and healed thousands in the war, he'll see the wisp of a girl who had trailed behind him as a genin.

It's the gentle, unconscious stroke of Sasuke's thumb across her forearm that makes her decision. Sasuke can sense the shift in Sakura as her head drops back onto his shoulder and her eyes squeeze shut. She's tired, so tired.

"I killed them."

Her voice breaks in the middle, and Sakura hisses out a quiet dammit at her traitorous voice. Sasuke's hand tightens where it rests on her arm.

He's quiet for a moment. Outside of discussing strategy or the details of a mission, talking isn't something Sasuke has much practice in. That, and his plan may have ended at getting Sakura to calm down enough to breathe properly.

He spends another minute in silence, growing increasingly frustrated with his inability to find the words he needs to comfort the woman who has always known exactly what he needed to hear. Sakura, however, doesn't seem to mind the silence as she relaxes against him. Green eyes crack open, and though they're still muddled with pain, he sees a steady glimmer of trust and contentment behind them that immediately quells his frustration.

The open trust in Sakura's gaze reminds Sasuke that she's never expected him to be anyone other than himself. She's always been patient, meeting him more than halfway as he seemed to take one step towards her and two or three back.

He suspects it's the same now, as there's no expectation in her eyes, no tension in her body that suggests she's irritated by his silence. So instead of pushing himself to think of the correct words to fill the empty space, Sasuke pulls her more firmly against his chest and shifts her so his chin rests lightly atop her head.

It's more affection than he's ever shown, and it's far from comfortable for him, but Sasuke knows that Sakura's worth a bit of discomfort.

Just as Sakura has spent so many years steadfastly waiting for him to come to her, he settles in to wait for her to tell him - whether that time comes tonight or later down the line.

That time doesn't come tonight. Though she trusts Sasuke with her life, Sakura can't quite break through the insecurity that he'll find her weak the moment she says anything more. Maybe it's not a fair assumption to make, but most of her memories of them together on the battlefield ended in Sakura being treated as fragile - something to be left behind and protected.

Even if they made progress during the war, Sakura's not quite ready to test the durability of the picture of strength she painted as she threw herself at Madara or took on a goddess at her team's side.

Instead, she's happy to just let his presence ward off the shadows in her mind. The voices are silent at his touch, so she decides to just enjoy the rest and wrestle with them when they inevitably come back after Sasuke's gone again.

Sasuke feels Sakura's breathing even out and watches her eyes flutter closed as she falls asleep against him. It's an interesting thing, having someone trust you so fully that they're willing to be at their most unguarded.

And he's done nothing to deserve it. He knows this, and it merely strengthens his resolve to continue his journey of atonement so that he can become someone who's at least a fraction deserving of Sakura and all that she's willing to offer him.

As he maneuvers himself out from behind Sakura and shifts her onto his back, Sasuke realizes with a tinge of bitterness that this is something he could have every day - Sakura's presence and everything bright and loving that entails. But as much as he wants to be there when she wakes up and finally say yes to taking her with him, he's not quite ready for that step.

There's more growth to be had, more relationships to mend, more emotions for him to reconcile within himself. While he knows having Sakura by his side would expedite the process of mending bridges and healing his own wounds, she needs to keep some of her light for herself.

When he leaves this time, it's out of consideration not just for himself, but for both of them. He can just make out the time when he asks Sakura to join him on his journey in the near future, but it's not now. They both have steps they need to take before they're ready.

He leaves Sakura tucked under the nest of far too many blankets she's always stubbornly kept haphazardly strewn across her bed, with a simple note on her nightstand:

Next time, Sakura.

[poptod]

The Breeding Kings, pt. 3 (Ahkmenrah x Reader)

Description: The blacksmith.

Notes: I Love this story but i know yall arent that interested in it which is kinda yikes for me but theres no way im not finishing this fic whether its now or two years from now WC: 7.8k (again im so sorry)

+

By the time you and Ahkmen actually made it out of the pyramid, most of the stars had vanished, and the dawning light of the sun sparked a panic in the Prince's heart. He hurried you back to the shore, picking you up and setting you in the boat before pushing the boat far into the water. Constant glances over your head let him keep an eye on the shore, on the rotating guards at the gates, and where was best to tie the canoe back up.

In the end, he found a spot as far away from the gates as possible, securing the boat before helping you out of the rickety contraption.

"Have you school?"

"Unfortunately," he muttered beneath his breath, adjusting his belt.

With that he took your hand, jogging down the wooden docks until you came to the entrance. He ran through that as well, terrified of anyone recognizing him, and didn't leave enough time for you to think on it long. Ever respectful, he saw you home before sprinting back to the palace by himself, wind burning his eyes all the way up.

For the next couple days he took extra care in his physical health. Learning to calculate the time of day and its' relation to the curvature of the earth, while in the blazing heat of the sun, had not fared well on his sleep-deprived mind. When he returned home that evening, he slept over 12 hours in a dead faceplant on his bed. Upon waking he found Piye looming above him with a knowing expression.

"How much time have you been spending with that Yogi?" They asked in a clearer, less clogged voice than Ahkmen had been able to manage through the amount of beer he'd had recently, paired with how little sleep he had.

"Didn't come home one evening," he grumbled, raising his hand to wipe away the tiredness from his eyes. "Got a lot of sleep last night, though."

"I can see that. Get up. We've got some time yet before the weekend," Piye said with a clap that roused the young Prince.

"Good morning, my Prince," said Naguib, who slipped in through the door. "The Pharaoh's dinner with the emissaries from Ebla is tonight. He wants you there."

"I have other places to be," Ahkmen whined, his shoulders drooping as he looked up.

"So does he," Piye said flatly.

School passed by without him ever seeing you, a fact that disappointed him more than it saddened him. His mood got him into a small verbal bout with one of his teachers, and though Piye tried to hold him back, the school day ended with him in one of the study rooms watching Yafeu argue with his father.

Ahkmen huffed, resting the weight of his head on his open palm balanced on the table in front of him. Yafeu couldn't tell him that he wasn't allowed in the school anymore, but the Priest would do his best to make sure Ahk got the second best punishment.

"I expect more from you, Ahkmen," his father said quietly as they walked side by side back to the palace. "None of your brothers have the skills or the wherewithal to lead a country. That responsibility may fall to you."

"Kamun is the oldest, isn't he?" Ahkmen grumbled. "He's the one who's going to be Pharaoh."

"Nothing is set in certainty, my son. Now then, in a few hours the Eblans will arrive, and a dinner will follow."

"Does that mean I have some free time, then?" Ahk asked with a sudden, bright change in tone.

"I want you to get ready," Merenkahre said, frowning. "Not play around with your friends."

"I'll only be there an hour at most," he said, playing off his own innocence.

The Pharaoh paused in the street to look down at Ahkmen, before letting out a long sigh.

"Very well. One hour."

Ahkmen didn't wait to return to his room––he turned and immediately set back off down the road, dashing and twisting through the crowds that formed the closer he got to the temple of Osiris. He barely looked to see where his hands and feet were as he climbed over the familiar crates, landing back in your alley and ducking back into your home.

To his surprise, Piye was already sitting in your waiting room, their feet set on a high shelf with their butt in a pile of blankets.

"Oh, hello Ah–"

You entered the room with massive goggles on.

"-hhh whhhat's up?" Piye corrected with wide eyes.

"... not much," Ahkmen said slowly. "I have a dinner with my parents in an hour, so I can't stay for long."

"I do need one help," you said as you pulled your goggles off, examining the material in your glove-clad hands. "I need a.. a..."

You snapped your fingers, attempting to recall the name of something. Ahk and Piye waited patiently.

"A kaentam," you muttered before a curse. "It is the rocks that kiss."

Piye stared at you dumbfounded, their mouth half open.

"You mean a magnet?"

"I think, yes," you said, though you didn't look sure. "Panya and her rock are still not... I do not know the type of her rock. I need your 'magnet' for to find the – the name."

"Well it's not exactly easy to find magnets," Ahkmen said slowly, picking at his chin as he thought.

"No, yeah," Piye agreed in the same contemplating tone. "I know they're used in medicine, but it's a... an unconventional treatment. Kind of expensive."

Ahk stared at the ground, continuing to play with the skin of his jaw.

"I think I know where we might find some," Ahk said after a moment.

"What is it?" You asked, stepping nearer.

"Osiris' temple. Priests have areas for medicine, and we already know the layout of the place."

"It's late, though. We're not allowed to enter after sunset," Piye pointed out.

"That's why it's good we know the layout!" Ahk said as he stood. "Now let's go."

"Don't you have a formal dinner in an hour?" Piye asked, watching Ahkmen leave out the door with a quirked brow.

"Let's gooo!" Ahkmen sang from outside.

Anything to distract from the coming responsibilities––anything to earn your favor, to win you over in some fashion he was convinced he hadn't already won you over in. You followed him out with a smile, murmuring a small greeting and thanks before Piye also appeared from behind you.

"And onwards we go, to Osiris, to Osiris," Ahk sung as he scaled the crates, followed by you and Piye in order.

"We have obtained," Piye continued the song with a grunt, "forever and ever, what your Grace will gift us."

"You talk like your heads have nothing in their side," you said, to Ahkmen's great amusement.

As Ahkmen originally suspected, most of the temple's inhabitants were too preoccupied with the evening adulations to notice three children, however strange looking, entering the complex. Ahk entered first, donned in his usual golden fabrics, followed by Piye, who by themselves always looked out of place no matter where they were or what they wore, and then you, a child at Piye's side, dressed in an unfamiliar but royal fashion.

Murmurings and voices could be heard from the tall roof of Osiris' temple, where many of the hour priests gathered to scan the heavens. Already the brightest stars shone through the light of sunset, a fact Ahkmen was quite glad about, since it would keep attention off him.

"Yafeu's room here has many, many supplies," Ahkmen whispered as the three of you crept down the open hallway.

"How do you know that?" Piye asked.

"I was sent there so he could yell at me and he's got bookcases and chests worth of things in there. What a monetary bastard," Ahk said with a tut, chuckling from his own humor.

When he reached the door to Yafeu's office, he slowly turned the lock, letting the wood door swing open with a creak. He motioned Piye in, then you, before following in himself, locking the door behind him.

Although Ahkmen might've been privy to the private belongings of the high priest, you and Piye shared no such knowledge. Piye, who had to bow down slightly due to the height of the ceiling, slowly scanned the room, from the pots to the jars and tapestries hanging from the walls. A reed mat had been set on the floor, keeping away the dirt and sand anyone might drag in.

"Where does he keep his medical supplies?" Piye asked quietly, taking a ginger step forward as they scanned the shelves with their eyes. When they spotted nothing useful, they began to rifle through them with their hands.

"No clue. Let's start, shall we?"

The three of you set to searching the room, categorically searching the different shelves––Piye for the tallest two, Ahk for the middle, and you for the lowest. You tried your best to keep quiet, wary of those who passed by outside the door.

"Why do you need a magnet again?" Ahkmen asked after several minutes of silent searching.

"Panya's rock seems iron in a... clean.. way? It is.. not how you see it in earth, and I don't know it. But your magnet will," you made a motion with your hands of them colliding together, "if I am right."

"You must know quite a lot about metals," Piye said, not bothering to tear away from the work at hand. You and Ahkmen, however, had stopped to look at each other when he spoke.

"My family is... kaghruppakal, moving.. metal, to make into things," you said as you reluctantly returned to the baskets on the bottom shelves.

"Blacksmiths," Piye said.

"Thank you," you said. "My father father's had it learned by the Kings in my home. They give us a good home for years, but they give no... money. So when new King comes, we had no home after."

"What do you mean, new King?" Ahk asked with a confused furrow in his brow.

"It is long and I do not know the how to say in Egyptian, but a man killed the King and stole his name," you said quietly.

"Is that why you left your home?" Ahkmen asked. "There was a revolution?"

"More of a usurping," Piye muttered.

"A little, yes," you said with a nod, before falling quiet.

Ahkmen waited a moment to see if you would say anything else, and a moment to wonder if he would say anything else, but ultimately returned to scavenging through Yafeu's belongings.

Statuette.

More gold bracelets.

Ancient scripture.

"You have to leave for that dinner pretty soon," Piye said in a dull voice.

"I don't need to leave for anything or anyone."

"Ureka!" you suddenly cried, a toothy smile coming to you as you forgot yourself.

Ahkmen and Piye both shushed you, to which you quickly apologized in a much quieter voice.

"I saw them," you said, extending in your hand a pair of magnets stuck to one another.

"Oh thank Gods," Piye said in a rush of breath, their hands immediately falling from the tall shelves. "Let's get back and see if it reacts to your stone."

"No, no, I bring it here," you mumbled distractedly as you dug into your large pockets, pulling out the shiny metal.

He watched in bated breath as you raised the magnets to Panya's stone. The whole of the process meant little to him, but it was part of your job, and he enjoyed partaking in little bits of your life.

This handicapped understanding of your work left him rather confused at your excitement when the magnets stuck to Panya's rock. You gasped, marveling at the reaction. As you moved to your feet, you never looked away, holding it close to your chest.

"Irumpu," you said through your smile. "Iron."

"I'm quite glad you've figured this out, but for the time being, we need to get out of here without being spotted," Ahkmen said, putting his hands on your shoulders before gently moving you aside, and opening the door a crack.

Piye spoke in a mumble with you as he stuck his head outside, the cool air of night filling his lungs, distinct from the stuffy walls of Yafeu's office. There were few people in the courtyard, as most of the priests and workers were still preoccupied with their finishing tasks for the night.

He motioned the two of you over, leading you silently outside. You crept along the wall with quick feet, skipping out of the temple, and running back into your home in a smiling rush.

The rush of adrenaline in his blood soon dissipated, comforted by the familiar shades of red and gold always resting upon your crown. Still staring at the metal, you collapsed down in your cushion pile, moving to hold the ball above your head as you stared. Ahkmen chuckled at your behavior, taking a seat beside you as Piye fell in a similar manner as you did across the room.

"Happy?" Ahk asked teasingly.

"Very," you said. "I must to find who had made it. The old King shows my father father's how to make it, but I never ask. And," you snapped your fingers, "then it is gone. When they go."

"Your grandfather knew how to purify and mold iron?" Piye asked in a low but loud voice, sitting quickly up.

"Yes, and it is good for..." you made a stabbing motion, "things that make people dead."

"Weapons," said Ahkmen.

"Etuvaka. Not many know how it makes, and that is how – why we come here. Makes better money, more than a city. Our city, people know how to," you mimicked squishing and molding things in your empty hands, "do with iron, so it is all every shop. Here, it was my family, only my family."

"That must've been quite the business at the time," Piye said in a softer voice, still low as they contemplated your words.

"We make good money," you said with a nod. "But I know this not. I want... to see.. find the maker. Hear his words."

"You'll probably want to see Panya, then," Ahk said. "It was her who found it, right?"

"I think yes."

"Wonderful. You'll go find her, and I will take him home," Piye said as they stood, gesturing to Ahk with their chin. "Dinner, remember?"

"Has anyone told you how irritating you are?" Ahkmen said, but nonetheless obeyed and stood.

"Your father reminds me every day," Piye responded flatly as the two returned to the palace.

Ahkmen drummed his fingers against the table below him, leaning the weight of his head on his raised knee. His mother had forced him into his royal clothes––the actual royal clothes, not just the expensive ones––and the crown his parents had made him gave him headaches with its' weight. Pure gold was heavy.

Ebla was a trading nation from the north who supplied a small but important type of material rarely found in the desert; wood. That was what Merenkahre and the Eblaite queen spent two hours talking about. Wood. They brought other goods such as rarely-found textiles and handcrafted artifacts as well, but they focused on the wood. It made sense, since that was what Egypt required the most, but it still bored him terribly.

Piye was much luckier by his reckoning. They didn't have to attend duties such as these. All the things they had to do were fun, things like gathering ingredients from the markets or the side of the Nile, going off on quests to defeat mythical beasts.

The young prince huffed, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from tapping his fingers too loudly. Walls of grandeur surrounded him, a good enough difference from your home that he was nearly shocked when he entered his own home, staring up at the towering ceiling. His style was slowly changing, as it usually did, to accommodate new aspects of his life; this had happened before on many occasions, as he suspected it did with many other teenagers his age.

A dream to look at. He would reckon your smile would match against any angelic beauty––anything holy was a common miracle in comparison to the subtle, entrancing magic of your laughter, his hand holding yours as he dragged you, pretending not to notice the racing of his heartbeat. A dream.

He wanted nothing more than to scoop you up and drown you in kisses. In order to avoid his own disappointment at his fantasy not currently being reality, he bit deeper into the inside of his cheek, pressing down harder on his open palm.

Hours later, he stared up at the canopy of his bed, the sheets tossed around his body till most of them hung half of the bed. His breathing was the only noise in the still room.

Until his breathing irritated him so fiercely he sat straight up in a huff, a frown on his forced expression.

"Fucking... thoughts," he muttered to himself, halfheartedly punching one of his pillows.

He could not manage to tear his mind from you. Every time he closed his eyes, he thought of you, and adrenaline built in him as he unwillingly imagined your face. Would you mind if he came to see you? It must've been past midnight. You worked during the day. He shouldn't bother you.

Ten minutes later he was fully dressed and sneaking out of the palace, a shroud of cloth concealing his identity as he moved along the shadows. He reckoned Piye, who also slept inside the palace, did not want to see you at this hour, and he left them to sleep.

Ahkmen wasn't sure what he was looking for in returning to you, but as per usual, fantasies spared no expense in the luxurious self-indulgence department, scenes playing behind his eyes of the two of you 'naturally' finding yourselves in intimate situations. Most of it consisted of him finally getting some sleep, this time with you in his arms or wrapped around his waist.

Despite his embarrassment concerning previously mentioned fantasies, they did inspire him to move faster, and before he knew it he found himself standing in front of your tent, hesitating for the first time.

Again his doubts plagued him. He comforted himself with the fact that he had come all this way, and it seemed a rather foolish idea to give it up now.

With that he entered, his eyes immediately falling to the one candle lit in the shadowed room. The usual rushlights set about the entrance room––where he and his friends usually sat about and did nothing––had disappeared, leaving much of the folds of cloths in shadows that casted stark against the single flame.

"Yogi?" Ahk said in a much quieter voice than required.

The sound of rustling blankets had his heart sinking in his chest. He had hoped, at least, that he wouldn't bother you from your sleep––most of him believed you would be up all night working.

"Aganu?" You murmured softly, high and quiet with the sleep pulling at your lips.

"Uh, yes," he said, trying to peek behind the curtain separating your bedroom front your shop. "I'm sorry to disturb you so late. I thought you'd be up, I – I can leave."

"No, no," you mumbled. "Is good. Come here."

He gulped, gingerly stepping forward and pulling away the cloth door. Behind it, you lay in a pocket of space built into your fabric wall, drowning you in luxurious blankets of red and gold. All that remained visible was your eyes, an adoring sight in his mind.

"Why've you got that light in the other room?" Ahk asked quietly, kneeling down in front of you.

"More not strong. It is very red," you said, poking your finger out to gesture to the room as a whole. "Good for night sleeping. Why are you coming here?"

"You mean your house or your bed?" Ahk said, stepping away as he became aware of his closeness to you.

"My house."

"Couldn't sleep," he said with a shrug. "Thought you might be able to help."

"Why?" You asked, before backtracking. "Wait, that is not the word I mean. Um... how do you want help?"

"I don't know. Maybe you have a potion, or just a better bed than I do," he said, chuckling.

"I have both."

"Hey, you haven't even felt my bed," he said in a teasing manner. "How do you already know your bed's better?"

"Because it is not hard."

Fair enough point––Egyptian beds were essentially a table built for the purpose of sleeping. Good for the hot weather, bad for the joints.

"I don't want to disturb you, though," he said quietly as you began to rise, sheets and thick blankets falling from your shoulders to reveal the naked expanse of your chest and stomach. He gulped, though fortunately not audible, as you stretched your hands up.

"It is no problem," you said, sighing deeply as your arms fell.

Rooting around in your bed, you found a large but thin blanket, wrapping it around your body before you left your comforts. You yawned as you stood, but faithfully wandered to your potion storage. Ahkmen had never seen any of your potions, as he didn't believe a hangover cure counted as one, and thus he looked eagerly over your shoulder when you knelt down. Glass and pottery clinked together as you searched.

"What kind of potions do you make?" Ahk asked, stepping back when you once more rose to your feet.

"To help bodies," you said, gesturing to your own body, "and soul." You tapped your heart.

He frowned. Obviously.

"Do you have like, a love potion?"

"Why you ask that?"

"Just curious," he said quickly.

"I have... khamam potion. You make a man drink it and they will.. have..." you trailed off, unable to explain fully. "Love to you? When they make the children."

"Sex?"

"Sure. They do the sex. Man or woman," you said with a dismissive wave of your hand.

"How do you make a potion like that?"

"You think I give it with no paying? I must make money, Aganu," you chuckled softly, bopping his nose with your finger, before sobering to speak. "This is a potion that will make you calm. Ready for sleep, yes."

"Oh, thank you," Ahkmen said, taking the small, clay bottle. "How much do I owe you?"

"Speak more about the sky."

He quirked a brow.

"That's your price?"

"I want to know more. I go to school to clean, not hear, but I want to," you said, taking his hands in your cloth-covered hands, and staring upwards. "I am alive to see and hear and I want to hear you."

You couldn't be aware of the effect of your words. Not with eyes that innocent. But, as usual, his heart raced painfully in his chest, overflown with an affection he had no choice but to hold back.

"... very well," he murmured, and led you back to your bed. You crawled in, surrounding yourself in blankets once more as Ahk sat on the floor, carefully watching your sleepy, fluttering eyes.

"The sky––well, more specifically the night sky, is a woman. Her name is Nuit. At sunset, her head in the west consumes Ra, and in the morning, she births him again. Her eyes are the sun and moon. Her lover, Geb, is the earth, but they are forever forced apart by Ra, who placed their father to separate them," Ahk said, reciting information he had long known. "His name is Shu. He is the air that lets us breathe."

"Why did Ra want them apart?" You asked quietly, muffled behind your blankets.

"Nuit became pregnant by Geb. Ra found it an abomination, cursed her to never give birth on any day of the year. But Thoth helped her––won a few games of Senet against Khonsu, god of time, and earned her five days in which she gave birth to five children."

"Who?"

"Osiris on the first day. That's his temple you work at. Then I believe it was.. Horus.. Seth, Isis, and her sister, Nephthys." He paused to yawn. "Those are the epagomenal days, at the end of the year. Pretty big celebration."

"I like to see this," you mumbled.

"I'll take you this next year," he said. "There's plenty of food and beer for everyone."

Your breathing was beginning to slow, and when Ahk noticed that, he fell into silence. Instead he stared at your closed eyes, your cheek squished into your pillow. Too much to look at. The better half of him yearned to reach out and touch you, but the remaining bits of his conscious reminded him that that was, beyond anything, an incredibly strange thing to do.

He was even more grateful for his decision to remain still when your eyes opened on an inhale, blinking slowly as you met his gaze.

"Tired?" You asked. "Potion does not takes long."

He chuckled, "yeah. I'm pretty tired now."

"What time does it take to walk to your house?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe thirty minutes."

"You are.. you will fall by then," you murmured.

"Asleep?"

"Yes. It is a strong potion."

You paused, scanning his body and its' position near you.

"Remain here," you said, soft as the silk you drowned yourself in. "For the night."

The rope around his heart tightened at your request. His imagination, somehow, had come to fruition.

"Where will I sleep?" He asked, fighting back another yawn.

"All places. Do what you want," you sighed. "Or you fall sleep in the street."

"Very funny. Scoot over."

You glared up at him, but eventually gave in, scooting closer to the wall to make room for him. He pulled his jewelry off him before sidling in, hoping to avoid hurting you accidentally.

When he turned to face you, he found his forehead crowning you, his nose just barely brushing against yours.

"Thanks," he murmured. "You didn't have to."

"I know," you whispered in a breath, closing your eyes.

Only a few hours later he was awakened by something prodding at his face. His eyes fluttered open, blearily finding Piye above him, poking his cheek with a fireplace fork. Ahkmen groaned, turning over on his side.

"Don't you ignore me, you royal pain," Piye said, prodding him harder yet. "Do you know how many lies I had to tell to your father?"

"Piye, it's way too early in the morning for this," he said groggily, throwing his arm over his eyes.

"It's midday!"

"I got here late," Ahkmen said as he slowly fell out of the bed, sliding onto the floor.

Piye grasped the top of Ahk's head by his hair, lifting his face and kneeling to meet him.

"I swear to the Gods if you had sex with a ci–"

"I did not," Ahk hissed, wriggling till Piye's grip loosened.

Reluctantly, Ahkmen rose to his feet, brushing the wrinkles out of his clothes and pulling your blankets off the floor, placing them back on the bed. The lumps in the cloth suggested your presence, but as he pulled them away he found the rest of the bed empty. He stepped back in surprise.

Piye looked over his shoulder, frowning as they, too, saw your absence.

"Isn't this Yogi's bed?"

"It was last night," Ahk said.

"I am here," you said from behind. Ahk whirled around, coming face to face with you struggling to pull on a large, ornate coat.

"Oh. What are you doing?" Ahk asked with a frown.

"I am placing my coat."

"We can see that," Piye said flatly. "It's hot outside. Why do you need it."

"Pockets," you said, opening your jacket to reveal a plethora of pockets sewn into the inner seams. "I do go to market now. I will see for the man that had made this."

You reached into one of your pockets, pulling out the block of pure iron some blacksmith had thrown away.

"Will I go to Panya? If she wants to?" You asked, pocketing the metal once more.

"Probably should," Ahk said with a yawn, stretching his hands high enough that they raised the cloth ceiling. Piye nodded in agreement.

"She likes to stay in control," Piye added.

"I can help you get there," Ahk offered expectantly.

"Oh! Thanks many," you said, grinning wide. "I do not know to find her."

"I better come too," said Piye, who crossed their arms. "He always seems to get into trouble without me there."

"You say that as though I don't get into trouble when you're with me, too," Ahk chuckled.

"I'm not in the mood today, Ahk," Piye whispered, gripping Ahk's upper arm tight enough to leave temporary marks.

"Then don't come along," Ahk whispered back. "You don't have to if you don't want to."

Piye glared at him but said nothing, walking swiftly out the door and closing the flap behind them. It left Ahkmen once more alone with you, awkwardly shuffling his feet as you prepared yourself, carefuly to remember all your tools.

"Thank you, again," Ahkmen said after a moment of silence. "For letting me sleep here."

"Yes, yes. Go now."

You pushed him out the door, following as you fixed the tassels of your pants. Thin ropes flipped every which way till you knotted them, tightening around your waist, before you set off towards the common streets. Ahkmen followed, though he couldn't see where Piye had gone.

Murmuring conversations surrounded him, circled by flocks of people heading towards Osiris' temple. Shoulders and feet pushed on him, shoving him about as he headed in the opposite direction, always searching for your scarlet red robes. They set you quite wide apart from the usual crowd, and thus the Prince used them as an identifier.

People cast looks in his direction as he continued to shove and push, a constant stream of shaky apologies tumbling from his mouth. He considered himself adept at moving through crowds, but he had clearly not gotten as much practice as you did, which combined with your smaller size, led you to stop far ahead to wait for him.

He panted as he reached you, pausing with a heavy chest.

"Feel you good?" You asked, quirking a brow.

"I don't do well when I haven't eaten in the morning," he said, his voice cracking as he bent over slightly, his hands on his knees.

"Funny Egyptian man," you laughed, reaching up to ruffle his already messy hair. "You are... too full of money."

"I wouldn't doubt that," he muttered, recalling the many luxuries his father had given him throughout his life.

"I buy your food, we will go," you said as you returned to walking, slow to allow him time to catch up.

"Oh, don't worry about that," he said, waving his hand dismissively as he rose to follow you. "I can pay for it. Don't waste your money."

"Right?"

"... yes," he said, after having given up on trying to decode what exactly you'd meant.

As the two of you entered the main streets of the city, the conversations of strangers grew louder, more densely packed between houses and stalls full of goods. Through the street you now walked down, there must've been at least five different spice carts. Careful mountains of cumin and ginger were placed in the corner of nearly every stop.

Near the end, he found a small stall of a woman selling beer. He reached for you, pausing your step as he dug into his own pocket, pulling out a silver ring.

"One cup, please," he asked, to which the lady politely acquiesced. He set the ring down on her counter. "Will this do?"

"... one more than that," she said, her gaze flickering from the ring to Ahk's eyes.

He pulled out another ring, and with that she handed him the cup, taking the rings simultaneously.

"Have a good day!" She said as the two of you left.

Ahkmen sipped at his drink with a satisfied sigh, relaxing into the sweet, familiar taste. Your drinks were good, but far too alcoholic to be worth any sustenance.

"I want a little," you said, moving on your toes so as to see inside his cup.

"Sure," he said, and handed it to you. You returned it after a couple swallows.

"We look for Panya, yes?" You asked.

"Oh, right. I'll take you to her house."

Panya didn't live far away from the center of town, so in a matter of minutes you were already knocking on her door. What you didn't expect, however, was for the High Priest of Osiris' temple to answer it.

He eyed you up and down, your odd way of dress, the dot on your forehead, before his gaze fell to Ahkmen. It was then his eyes narrowed, coldly recognizing the prince.

"What do you want," he said, leering down at you.

"Your daughter," said Ahk, who was leant against one of the pillars outside Panya's mansion of a house.

"You may not have her."

"I –"

Before Ahk could finish, something tugged on the inside of his arm, pulling him away from the doorstep. You didn't seem to notice, busy conversing with Yafeu. He turned round, stumbling with broken balance before he looked up, meeting Piye's eye.

"What are you doing?" He whispered, glancing back to you and the priest.

"I've been thinking," Piye murmured, leaning down to lessen the space between them, "I don't think we should go around the markets just talking about a purified iron. I think it might land you in trouble."

"Why?" He scoffed.

"I’ve been at all my father’s meetings with the Pharaoh and his generals and they’re talking about iron. How to get it, how to use it, how to control it, everything,” they said.

“Well why’s that a problem? They did the same thing with wood.”

"Not like this! Iron, it – it's incredibly strong. If we had armor made of that, shields made of it, weapons made of it, it'd give us an enormous amount of military power, and with your father in rule, I don't think that's a good idea," they said in a growing volume before they remembered Yafeu was there, and quieted down again.

"What's wrong with my father?!" Ahk gasped.

"Nothing!" Piye hissed, eyes darting back up to Yafeu to see if he had noticed. "He just has a habit of oppressing people!"

Ahkmen snorted. His hand shot up to cover his mouth, quiet giggles wracking his body.

"I'm sorry," he wheezed, "that shouldn't be funny. Sorry."

"It's fine," Piye said with a long sigh. "You know what I mean. If word gets to him that this little immigrant over here has a key to finding how to shape iron, he isn't going to take a visit and credit them with the discovery. He's going to deport them, cover it up, and claim he learned it from the Gods. You know everything’s a game to him."

Ahkmen's breath caught in his throat as Piye laid out the consequences in plain, simple terms he could understand. That would be the end of your friendship, but more importantly, it was also the end of your livelihood. You were still young––around his age––and you didn't know much else except living in Egypt. If he were to take your word, your home to the east was far, far away, and ruled by an unjust dictator. You would not make the journey there alone, let alone when you actually reached your city.

"What do you suppose we do?" Ahkmen said after a minute or two of deep thought.

"I think –"

"We can go here," you said, passing by them with Panya and, unsurprisingly, Unas bringing up the rear.

"Wait –"

He went to stop you, but Piye stopped him first.

"Best you don't tell them. We're not from the palace, remember?" Piye muttered, before promptly following you off the steps of Panya's house. Ahkmen, however disgruntled as he was, followed as well.

"I wish I was poor," he grumbled, walking alongside Piye, who kept a fair enough distance from you and your customers.

Piye struck him with a flat palm against the back of his head. The weight in his neck rolled forward, kinking it awkwardly, to which he let out a yelp of pain.

"Don't say that. Others in your country, in this city, starve. They would give anything to be you."

His frown drew tighter, irritant clogging his thoughts. Every inconvenience angering. He breathed deeply, willing the feeling away, and sped his pace to catch up to you. Panya might've been up there, but her presence would be a small price for yours.

The markets approached faster than he realized, and soon he was once more surrounded by strangers bartering and advertising. Thin tarps of orange and dusty yellow spread from one side of the thin street to the other, sheltering merchants from the hot sun, and allowing them to hang different products on the lines. He ducked under rings of cloth and over piles of incense, shakily following your wavy trail through the walkway.

Heat began to redden his cheeks, and it was then he realized that you'd made it to the blacksmith area of market, near to the kitchens. Fire stoking bread and metal filled the open air, made much clearer by the absence of the shading tarps.

"Uh, Yogi," he said, grabbing your shoulder to stop you before you could enter. "I think we should keep on the down-low, this purified iron, people might start talking."

You looked him up and down.

"Okay," you said, turning back round to enter the shop.

It took until evening before you made any progress. Most everyone you met was skeptical of you, which wasn't surprising considering the size and age of your group. But the last man you came to was still working, even as everyone around him ate dinner, readying to leave for home or staying for music.

He had long hair––longer than Piye's, trailing down to his mid-thigh. Unlike theirs, his was black, and much stringier in comparison. The knotted rope used to hold his hair back as he worked was crude at best, and one he had to constantly fix. Ahkmen didn't see it, but you noticed he was much skinnier than most of the other blacksmiths, who had grown muscles over the years of their work.

You approached him much like you approached everyone; a bright, commercial cheerfulness that came across as dangerously fake. To those who had spent good time in the markets, it was easy to see through. Those who hadn't, however, couldn't quite decode why you were unsettling, other than you being foreign.

"What did you say this was for again?" The man asked, his voice a quiet, low rasp. He had seated himself amongst your menagerie, matching the height of Piye, who was of course the tallest member.

"We are trying to find the owner of an amulet," Panya lied smoothly, pulling off one of her many necklaces and handing it to the man. "Or rather, the maker."

He took the necklace with skinny fingers, twisting it round in them as he surveyed the whole of it.

"Gold, ruby.. copper," he muttered, pointing to each of the different beads as though you could understand him mumbling. "Silver?"

Panya gestured for the amulet back, which he gave, and she strung it back around her neck.

"Iron. It's the purest we've ever seen and we're looking for the source," she said, pointing to the rest of the group.

"The durability is incredible. I would love to have access to that kind of things in my buildings and such," Unas added.

"I know," the blacksmith said, his hair still drooping long in front of his face. "I have been searching for a way to purify the ore, but I cannot get my fires hot enough. I keep getting... what might be iron, but it never looks right. Then again, I – I don't know what the correct product would look like."

Well then, Ahk thought, that explains why it was in the junkyard.

You leant over to Ahk, moving to your knees so your lips met his ear as you whispered.

"Can I show him what we found now?"

"Um.." his eyes darted over to Piye, who was listening intently to the man's woes, "sure."

Tapping on the blacksmith's shoulder, you brought his attention to you and the heavy malformed metal in your hand. His eyes widened, near imperceptive behind all his hair, but certainly filled with shock.

"Is that my...?"

"It is iron," you said with a grin. "I live in a city where lots of iron everywhere. Here, not so much, but that is iron."

"Unas found it in the junkyard in the southern part of Memphis," Panya said, pointing a thumb to her friend.

"Shit," the man breathed out, combing a hand through his hair. "I don't know which one that was."

"Which what?" Ahkmen asked.

"Which heat level," Unas answered for him. "It takes a specific amount to actually purify different ores. Otherwise you might burn it into a charcoal."

"And the all other rocks and," you motioned grinding your fist into the palm of your other hand, "the rocks you smash until they are sand."

"Powder," Ahk said.

"Yes. I see, when I was 5, my father has powder in his furnace, in the iron," you said with a variety of questionable hand motions. "Red, and... a bright black. Shiny."

Ahkmen listened intently for the next hour and a half as you, Unas, and the blacksmith conversed about smelting techniques. Apparently, all of you had, at one point, attempted to smelt iron out of the ore, a fact that was made appalling because Egypt didn't have any iron. Most of the iron within the country was either imported or from the meteor, which was confined to only serving the royal family.

Even Piye eventually tired of the conversation that never seemed to stray from smelting, though you did for a short time discuss techniques for copper. Piye had an incredible sense of patience, so when they tapped Ahk to tell him they were leaving, Ahk realized he usually would've left ten minutes into the conversation.

It clicked quite quickly that he wasn't really listening––he was watching you, and that had somehow occupied him for a full hour and a half. A creeping sense of embarrassment had him hunching his shoulders.

"Unas, we should go, we have that thing in the morning," Panya murmured into Unas' ear, though Ahkmen still caught it.

"Oh, right," he said in a deflated tone. He stood, brushing off his skirt before facing the blacksmith. "Thank you for your time. Is it alright if I come back sometime? Might be better to have more than one person working on this."

"How old are you?" The blacksmith asked in his usual mumble.

"16."

"... okay," he said after a moment. "You're old enough."

"Oh, good. Well thank you, anyway," Unas said, before motioning to Panya to leave. He bowed his head slightly as he left the circle of conversation, following his friend back into the markets.

As she left, Panya turned to walk backwards, holding her hands out to you. You quickly caught her drift, and threw the ball to her. She thanked you from a distance.

"We should leave soon as well," Ahk whispered to you.

A few minutes later, the two of you were once more walking side by side, wandering down the now-vacant streets. Ahkmen had no idea where you were going, but was along for the ride no matter where you ended up. As you hastened your step, you took Ahk's hand, forcing him to match your pace with a giddy laugh.

"The night is clear," you said, walking backwards to face him without halting your step. "You will show me the star shapes, yes?"

"The constellations," he said with a soft chuckle, his body filling with a warm, lighthearted haze. "Of course."

You led him back towards your home but ignored the alleyway entrance, instead reaching the doors of Osiris' temple. The tall walls marked themselves steep against your small stature, casting long shadows in the moonlight, that tonight shone like a shell of the sun. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words died stillborn as you tugged him into you. His chest met yours as he stumbled clumsily.

"Be safe, funny man," you giggled, looking down at him as his head's weight rested awkwardly in the crook of your neck.

What little citylights remained in the dead of night faded away as you scaled the tower, your neck craned upwards to the heavens. No matter how tall the roof of the temple was, no matter how high you climbed, the stars never seemed to move any closer. Their distance must've been incomprehensible, but inconsequential when grasping Ahk's hand to help him onto the roof.

He panted softly as he stood on his feet once more, brushing off the dust that came from the temple walls. You left him to wander to the center of the stone plateau. His breathing slowed, attention centering on you as your eyes still stared up into empty space.

You turned, noticing the heat of his gaze.

"Speak to me," you said in a voice that moved like music. "You tell on Sopdet, yes? And.. Sah. Nuit and Geb."

"Lie down with me," he said.

You dutifully obeyed, sliding down next to him, your clothes and hair splayed out.

For a good hour he pointed up, tracing the outlines of constellations he had studied all his life. Since you didn't know their shapes on paper, he drew the images in the dirt and sand collected on the roof, showing you how random collections of dots made up women and beautiful creatures, the everlasting Gods in the sky.

"I want to be... something beautiful," he murmured, looking down at his own shoddy illustrations. "Like the stars."

"You had say that when you will die, you will go to the stars, right?" You asked softly.

"In death," he said with a small nod. "I will not be able to see this earth. I will be one amongst millions. It's strange, but... I wish I could stay here forever. A star close to home."

"You are scared of being nothing," you said. "But we are nothing. We are nothing to birds, or to other cities. We are already nothing and everything. It is what you choose to make of you––make more of your everything, or sleep in your nothing. There is happy things in both."

"No time wasted in happiness is truly time wasted?" He said, remembering a familiar anecdote from school.

"Yes," you said with a smile.

Silence filled the space for a few minutes, stilled by the slow breathing of Ahk's chest. He closed his eyes, exhaustion tugging at him, all of which he ignored.

"Aganu?" You said, nearly whispered.

"Yeah?"

"I like my hours with you," you murmured, wide, warm eyes staring bashfully at him.

"I do too."

[vowled]

Sherlock and Asperger’s Syndrome

“ His powers of observation, memory and rational thinking, and deduction made him a master of his craft, but he was famously incapable of relating to people other than actors to be analyzed and explained.”

These three core characteristics have led to speculations that ACD had diagnosed him with what is known as Asperger’s Syndrome.

So, in case you’re unaware, here’s the description of Asperger’s Syndrome:

Here are the keywords:

inability effectively socialise and communicate

socially awkward

all-absorbing interest in specific topics

High-functioning autism

summed up, it refers to a High-functioning sociopath !!!

@tin-chen12​ ,a friend who was kind enough to reply to my previous post, helpfully supplied the following: “Sherlock claims to be sociopathic, but it's only self-proclaimed. Sherlock isn't a so called "high functioning sociopath". "High functioning" is a term which is usually used for people in the autistic spectrum who are intelligent enough to adapt to the society and environment. Sherlock used the remark "High functioning sociopath” as a mask to scare people off of seeing the truth. Autistic people often speak this way to set themselves apart from others.” And indeed, in one interview, Steven Moffat did say something very similar. He spoke about how “Sherlock has never been a sociopath - it’s simply a shield that he uses to defend himself.” After all, it’s easier to deflect by saying that he’s a High-Functioning Sociopath instead of a High-Functioning Autist.

Originally posted by sherlock5countdown

and just like that, so many of Sherlock’s personality traits fall into place and are no longer so very eccentric! But wait! there’s more! It is actually canon !!

The Hounds of Baskerville, in my humble opinion, is a very comforting episode. However, it also is the episode which completely brings out Sherlock’s more....sociopathic side and exposes his Autistic tendencies:

wow this was pretty intense. And perhaps it is the most infamous of them all.

But here’s the cherry on top : in this episode, at 56:50 ,John says that familiar faces might help with his Asperger’s, thus making it canon!!!

brilliant!!!

Let’s look at Sherlock’s expressions after this!

HE’S BEEN OUTED!! Turns out Jawn is pretty clever!!

Now there might be some confusion and disagreement with this topic based on the fact that this condition couldn’t possibly have been deliberately inserted into this character. I mean, to do that, you’d have to clearly know what this condition entails from the start, right?!  It wouldn’t be possible to just make it all up as you went along.... you’d have to know what you’re doing and show the symptoms from early on...So how exactly was Sherlock portrayed to be Autistic?

Here’s another sweet little fact (courtesy-my wonderful friend Supriti): Sherlock Holmes was based off an actual person, Dr. Joseph Bell, a medical practitioner and a friend of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. ACD himself was a medical man too, and apparently he was also very good at it. Dr. Bell diagnosed his patients’ illnesses as Sherlock deduces his cases. Himself and ACD were both brilliant doctors. So this is the thing I’m hinting at : It was entirely possible that ACD diagnosed his friend with Asperger’s syndrome. At his time of writing Sherlock Holmes he could do nothing more than simply describe its symptoms because ACD wrote SH before 1930s, while Asperger’s was discovered in 1944. So in a nutshell, Dr. Bell had undiagnosed Asperger’s.

Here’s a few descriptions that further prove the point:

Sherlock being rude and cold unintentionally because he doesn’t understand social protocol and has different body language and ways of expressing.

Sensory Overload - the reason he’s good at noticing details and observing things. He further further learns deduction to use it to his advantage.

Sherlock being able to selectively remember and recall info because he doesn’t think in words. This further supports why there’s never any internal monologue, always just words floating on the screen.

Struggling with cognitive empathy and understanding his own feelings

Hyperfocusing on a case and using it to his advantage- While people accuse him of being moody and just simply not wanting to talk, he’s actually hyperfocused.

Needing people to take care of him due to executive disfunction.

Not being able to deal with a change in routine after John leaves (*cough* *cough* drugs)

Using dramatic hand gestures to mask his stimming (Here’s a wonderful post that clearly demonstrates it) https://tmblr.co/ZEnJ9UZMVRk54W00

source:@dragonnan 

and here’s a sad one : Sherlock valuing his intelligence and skill above all and neglecting emotions because he was praised for it as a child and didn’t learn to love anything else about himself.

Here, I rest my case ~

Thank you for reading this! I’m still learning how to write and present my theories, so I’m sorry if sometimes they appear not very systematic. I hope I’ve not been disrespectful or offensive to anyone who’s actually diagnosed with this condition. If I have (unintentionally) done so, please do tell me about it, I’ll surely make changes. Again, please do feel free to give me any feedback whatsoever. It really really cheers me up <3

[peach-the-owl]

Of a Kind Sol

Pumat Sol & Child!Reader

Request: Our favourite enchanter Pumat Sol and his arcane copies because who doesn't love them? Only crazy people. So a kid, maybe into their teens, coming into the shop and asking to learn from him how to enchant stuff and become his apprentice and later on he finds out they have nobody.

Child is a bit of a loose term for this because the reader is about 12-13 years old. I regret nothing, anyways enjoy! 😁

The Invulnerable Vagrant a humble little shop located in the city of Zadash, you walk up to the shop, adjust your cloths to look a little more presentable and take a deep breath before making your way inside. The first thing you notice upon your entry is the two identical employees walking around stocking up items and rearranging them, the third one manning the counter also looked the exact same, it was almost intimidating.

"Well hey there, what can I do for a youngin' like yourself today?" The firbolg at the counter asks kindly.

"Umm, h-hello, my name's (y/n)." You say a little shakily holding out your hand, the firbolg returns the handshake.

"A pleasure to meet you (y/n), I am Enchanter Pumat Sol." He greets you back.

"It’s a pleasure to meet you too. Uhh… well… I had a question I’d like to ask." You put on as confident a smile as you could muster.

"And I’d be happy to answer any questions you have, respectfully. What’s your question." He gives you a patient look. You take another deep breath to psych yourself up.

"I was wondering if you were looking for anyone to help with the shop? I’m really interested in learning about enchantment." You give him a hopeful look, he leans back placing a hand on his chin in thought before looking at you again.

"So you’re interested in enchantment eh? Well that’s a question I’ll have to talk to Pumat prime about."

"Pumat prime?" You give a questioning look.

"Yes, you see myself and the other two over there," he points to the other firbolgs running around. "We're what you’d call magical manifestations created to aid the original in his work." He explains to you.

"So you're not the real Pumat Sol, just a copy to help around the shop?" You try to hide the nervousness in your voice at the revelation.

"More or less. Now you wait here just a moment, I’ll be right back." With that he gets up and disappears behind a curtain leaving you to stand there, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet. After a minute he returns with who you’d assume to be the original Pumat Sol, who removes his goggles to get a better look at you.

"So you’re interested in enchantment I hear?" He asks same question as the other had.

"I am, I’ve always been interested in the ways of enchantment but I’ve never really been able to learn it for myself." You brighten up.

"Well…" he thinks for a moment, "that is, respectfully, a fine offer. I already have a lot of hands helping with the shop though." You start to deflate a little. "However, it would be nice having someone else helping me with enchantments." You perk up again.

"So I have the job?" You ask eagerly.

"As long as it’s alright with your parents-"

"Yes! Yes, of course it is." You quickly lie, cutting him off. He stares at you but smiles regardless.

"Well alrighty then, we can get started right now if you'd like, respectfully." You just nod. "Keep up the good work me." He tells the copies before he takes you back behind the curtain to his little workshop area to start your training.

For the next few weeks you’d come to the shop bright and early to learn and hone in on your enchantment skills, which you pick up on rather quickly, helping with projects and making a few small items of your own, at the end of the day you’d get your share of money and head "home" to start the day anew tomorrow. You even got your own work apron and pair of goggles. To make things easier on yourself working with four of the same guy you gave the arcane copies nicknames, Matty, Sol, and Puma respectfully, they all seemed to like the little nicknames from you so that was how you’d refer to them from then on. How could you tell who was who? Simple, you made little enchanted name tags with the help of Pumat. One day a set of new adventurers hobbled into the shop, you only being made aware of this when Matty came into the workshop with a request for something to be made prettier.

"Do you wanna handle this one (y/n)?" Pumat asks.

"Me? Really!" Your eyes sparkle with excitement.

"Why not, you’ve made great progress and it’s good practice." You get up and follow Matty through the curtain where you see the previously mentioned adventurers. They all take quick notice of you.

"Hold on a moment. Didn’t you say the forth one's in the back?" The half-orc questions.

"I'm actually his apprentice." You say with a large, proud smile. You see the red-head give an amused side look but decide to ignore it. "Anyways, I was called to make something pretty?"

"Yes!" The blue tiefling pipes in, showing the Fantastic Haversack. "See I’m going to be wearing it and I want it to match my outfit…" While she’s say all this you try to think of what to do, coming to a rather quick and obvious solution.

"What’s your favourite colour?" You ask.

"Pink!" She replies, without missing a beat. You wave your hands around, muttering a few arcane words and watch the bag simmer turning a bright pink. "Ahhh! It’s beautiful! 200 gold, here you go." The tiefling happily exclaims, handing you a bag of gold.

"You’re welcome miss…" You pause realizing you didn’t know her name, she catches on.

"I’m Jester." She greets properly.

"I’m (y/n). Nice meeting you Jester." You greet back. "Keep up the good work Pumats." You then turn to retreat back behind the curtain with a few "thank you's" and make your way back into the workshop.

"Hey uh (y/n), one more thing, you got a request for more of those little explosive spikes you made from a little goblin girl." Puma pokes his head into the workshop to inform you.

"Wait, someone actually wants more of those? But they aren’t very strong." You were surprised anyone was interested in something you made seeing as all the bigger and cooler enchantments were Pumat's doing.

"They said something about them being perfect for arrows." Puma explains.

"Oh! Umm, ok. How many are they asking for?"

"Fifty."

"Fifty! Wow, I got a lot of work to do then, it’s gonna take me a while. Thanks Puma." You give him a smile that he returns then leaves to help finish up with the costumers.

Some time went by, you continued your usual routine showing up early, working throughout the day and carefully returning "home" with a nice bag of coin for meals, all was well… until it wasn’t. One evening you were a little too confident in yourself and got a little careless, not checking for any thugs or muggers while turning down an alleyway like you usually do. You were just walking along merrily when you bumped into someone.

"Well, well. That sure sounds like a awful lot of coin for a street rat." A rather stocky dwarven man chuckles darkly. You take a few steps back towards where you’d entered but stop when you hear someone approach from behind, a tall lanky man blocked your exit pulling out a dagger. You started to panic, as much as you’d like to cast something to aid yourself, you left your spellbook and components for said spells back at the shop leaving you defenceless. You tried to dart past the dwarf hoping to loose the two further into the alleyway, what you didn’t count on was the dwarf to be nimbler then he appeared. You’re grabbed by the collar of your shirt and slammed against a wall, effectively knocking the air out of you and before you can push yourself up off the ground you feel a harsh kick to your side and a sharp pain in your arm. You try to scream for help but again before you can react your head is slammed hard against the ground leaving your vision blurry before completely blacking out…

You awaken with a feeling of slitting pain in your head and your entire body aching, slowly pushing yourself off the ground into a sitting position proving to even be a difficult task. Once you get a better look at yourself you can see a few cuts on your arms from the dagger the lanky man had used and you were covered in bruises, you reach a hand up to where your head was throbbing the most only to flinch away from the intense pain. You stare at your hand seeing it covered in your own blood, taking proper note that you were in fact surrounded by a small puddle of your own blood. You were surprised you even managed to regain consciousness, regardless your vision was still blurry and you needed medical attention, soon. You didn’t have any coin or items on you anymore leaving only one location for you to get help, a part of you dreading the idea but deep down you knew it was only a matter of time before you’d have to deal with the consequences of telling the truth. Shakily you get yourself to stand and hobble your way out of the alleyway towards your destination, looking to the sky you could estimate that it must’ve been close to late morning, early afternoon by now. You approach the door and with what little strength you had left you open the door and stumble into the shop.

"Welcome to the Invulnerable- Oh my goodness! (Y/n), what happened!?" You teeter and before you fall to the ground you feel a set of gentle hands catch you, then a second set of hands help to bring you to the back. After a few minutes your able to regain your focus back, seeing Matty and Sol on either side of you both with identically concerned looks on their faces.

"Here you are, this'll help fix you up." Sol hands you a greater healing potion which you waste no time in using to help ease away the lingering pain and get rid of bruises that weren’t covered by bandages. At this time Pumat walks in and gives a small nod to the other two.

"I’ll take it from here fellas." He tells them. They get up, Matty giving you one more gentle pat on the shoulder, and head back to the front leaving you alone with Pumat. "Care to tell me what happened?" He starts slowly and calmly.

"I umm, got mugged by some dwarf and lanky man in an alleyway." You say quietly.

"Now why were you in an alleyway so late, you should’ve been home with your parents." You let out a sad sigh and turn away from him a little. "(Y/n)?" You stay quiet but give a quick side glance. "I think I deserve an explanation here." He uses a more stern voice this time making you look over at him, despite the tone you could see genuine worry written on his face.

"I-I lied about my parents agreeing to this, because the truth is I don’t have any. I was left here all alone a few years ago, nobody came for me and I was forced to live on the streets. I meant to say something sooner, but I was scared…" You trail off a bit, feeling tears prick at the edges of your eyes.

"What could you be scared of, if you don’t mind me asking."

"I was scared you wouldn’t accept a dirty street rat. For so long I wanted to belong somewhere, but I was always turned away. I thought if I lied about myself you would accept me as an apprentice, but I wasn’t lying about learning enchantment I really do like it. I just didn’t want to be turned away again." By now you were sobbing, a stream of tears flowing down your face, your eyes turning red and puffy in the process. "I don’t want to be turned away again, please don’t be mad." You finish quietly through your sobs. There’s a pause before you feel yourself being pulled into a gentle, comforting hug. You stay in the hug for who knows and who cares how long until you finally pull away.

"Believe it or not, but I get it. I didn’t really fit in when I was about your age either." Pumat confesses, you look at him confused and he just gives you a kind smile. "I mean, do you see any other firbolgs that live here. I think not." You give a small giggle at that. "Now why don’t you take the rest of the day off, head on upstairs and get yourself some rest, you can use my room for now. I can handle myself just fine."

"Really? You’re sure it’s ok?" You give a curious look.

"It’s fine, I’ll get one of the others to help clear out our spare room for you to stay in later." You blink a couple of times to process what was just said.

"Wait, stay in? Like, live here?" You ask, wanting to know if you’d heard correctly or if you were hallucinating.

"Well of course! I can’t have my favourite apprentice sleeping in the streets, I’d worry too much knowing you might get mugged again or worse. It's real bad for the health." He states sorta matter-of-factly. You break out into a large smile at this.

"That is, respectfully, a very generous offer." You say with a playful bow. "Thank you. For everything." You continue more seriously this time.

"It is my humble pleasure." He gives you a nod. "Now go on, you need to rest and recover." You give him one more hug which he happily returns before heading up for that much needed rest.

I stayed up way later then I thought to finish this…… worth it

[ravynfyre]

Hi! This may be too vague of a question, but what do firefighters *do*? I thought they just worked with fire safety, but when researching I keep finding things that makes them seem more like hospital workers, and they seem like they’re called in for literally every kind of problem. Why are the firefighters taking people to the hospital instead of the ambulance? Are all firefighters superhuman heroes that can do literally anything? Because that’s the impression I get!

Not too vague of a question at all!

So, the answer to this varies based on location. In some places, firefighters pretty much only fight fires and rescue people from automobile accidents and other disaster type scenarios. But in other places... they have to do pretty much everything. Putting it all under a cut because this will be a LOOOONG answer!

My department in a state capital in the midwest, for example: not only does everyone on the job have to become certified to fight fires - which includes a LOT of different skills, including understanding building construction, hydrodynamics, smoke reading, a LOT of math because of how water pressures are figured when actually pumping water from the rig, and a whole host of other things - but everyone is required to be, at the minimum, a Basic EMT. The reason for that is because at any one time, there are 6-9 ambulances on duty in town, while there are at least 15 fire trucks available, scattered all over the city. When you call 911 for a medical emergency, 9 times out of 10, the fire department will arrive before an ambulance will, despite being dispatched at the same time. So that means medical care gets to the patient quicker, as long as everyone on the firetruck is trained in at least a Basic level.

Now, in my town, the fire department doesn't *transport* patients, because the ambulances are privately owned companies. But in cities like New York, the fire department actually runs the ambulances, and so *they* transport. That really just depends on the city. A lot of times, especially in larger cities, the fire department will have the ambulances because they can afford to put more of them on the street, and it streamlines patient care. It's not necessarily better care, as in most places where private companies own the ambulances, the medics get paid absolute *crap*, so those folks are doing the job for the love of the work, not to make a comfortable living. But having the same "company" treat you *and* transport you does make it easier to get patients to the hospital and without having to transfer care along the way, so it just makes it a little bit quicker and easier.

But that isn't the end of the jobs that we have to know on my department. We all also have to understand the basics in dealing with a hazardous materials spill. Now, some of us will go on and become specialized in dealing with them, and then be placed on a Hazmat Team because of that... but all of us have to be able to identify, evacuate, and protect against a spill, as well as have the knowledge and skills to assist in those of us who have gone on to learn how to mitigate and clean up hazardous materials.

We all also have to understand how vehicles are put together, and how to take them apart safely. In a car wreck, especially bad ones, we don't remove patients from the vehicle... we remove the vehicle from the patient. It sounds like semantics, but it really isn't. When we have to get someone out of a wrecked vehicle, if something has to give, it needs to be the vehicle, and not the patient. The goal is to protect and fix the patient, not hurt them worse getting them out. And that means that every time someone comes up with new things for vehicles - think electric cars, and hydrogen fuel cars and such - we have to go take special training to see what is different and how to deal with the changes. And we have to practice cutting up cars and trucks of all types throughout the year, because physics can be fucky sometimes.

But cutting up cars is only *part* of the stuff we can do to "extricate" a patient - to remove them from a dangerous situation. We also have to understand how to remove patients from broken *buildings* and from things like grain elevators and farm equipment and construction equipment. If there is a way for someone to become entangled or trapped in something, we have to understand how to get them back out of it again. So that means learning a lot of basic steps that we can put together in a bunch of different ways, kind of like building blocks, to build the systems we need to get people to safety.

And one of those systems is also High Angle Rescue - ropes and heights, basically. Yeah, we all have to have the basics down on how to rappel and build rope systems for raising and lowering people safely. Some go on to become pretty expert at more advanced systems, just like how some folks go on to become Hazmat experts. Those High Angle Technicians end up on their own special team that is called in for specialized things, just like the Hazmat folks are. That was one of the things I actually did - high angle work. If it can be done with a rope and a knot? I probably know it. ;)

BUT! There's still more! My city is on a lake. So some of the guys went out and learned how to SCUBA dive. And then they went on and got advanced certifications on how to do blackwater (where you can't see anything) and entrapment diving. I did this for a while, too, until the wives of the guys on the dive team threw a fit about a woman being in a state of undress around their husbands, and I was kindly asked to find another special team to participate in. As if we don't live with each other for 24 hours at a shot as it is. But I digress.

That was part of the reason I went on to become a K9 handler. The main reason, though, is that I just like dogs better than people anyway. LOL. But on my department, we don't actually have a K9 component. I did K9 search and rescue on a volunteer basis, and on my own time, to fill a need in my area. Also, I had hoped to eventually become skilled enough in enough things, that I could be accepted onto a FEMA disaster task force. (Spoiler alert: I did) HOWEVER, once I actually *had* become a K9 handler, and got my partner and I certified to the most advanced level in the US FEMA system, my department was all too happy to call us in to work for them when they needed us. We worked a couple of tornadoes because of that. (Basically, my department was overjoyed to have the resource, but not have to actually PAY to get it, until they needed to USE it... and that's because Fire Service across the country is criminally underfunded as it is)

Part of my FEMA training, however, made me eligible for a spot on my department's Technical Rescue Team, because I also had to learn how to become proficient at mitigating structure collapses and affecting trench rescues. Basically, if it's something that can fall down and kill a person - whether that is a building, or a wall of dirt from a hole in the ground - I had to know how to deal with it and get the patient out safely.

So in a way, you are right - firefighters really 8do* have to know how to do pretty much ANYTHING to help people who are having one of the worst days of their life. Whether that means slapping on some bandaids, or digging through 15 stories of collapsed building in Florida, or cutting a car away to get them to the hospital, or rescuing them from a flash flood, if it's an emergency, firefighters have to know how to deal with it. In larger departments, that means that everyone gets a basic education on pretty much everything (and sometimes, that basic education can be nothing more than "how do we not make this worse"), and then different folks on the department will go on and become experts in different fields, until everything is covered, so that SOMEONE knows how to bring the situation to the best conclusion. On the REALLY BIG departments, like New York City, they get enough of those specialty types of calls that some folks get put on those special teams, and *that is all they do*. BUT, they do it for the WHOLE CITY, instead of just the area that their station would normally cover.

Of course, on small departments - like MOST of the United States, actually, which is predominately covered by UNPAID VOLUNTEERS - Everyone gets as much training on as many things as they can, and goes out to get whatever extra training on specialty things that they can afford to do on their own, or have interest in, BUT, since in most departments, that means that only one or two people will know more than the basics on special things, they count on other departments around them to help fill in the gaps. What I mean is this: all the little towns within the county my department was in, they couldn't afford to train a whole bunch of guys how to do dive rescue, or trench rescue, or high angle stuff, or building collapse stuff. So they concentrated on the special things that they would run into most - things like farmers getting caught in their grain bins, or getting sucked into their farm equipment - and knew that if something weird hit them - like a tornado that levels their town, or a train derailment with hazardous materials spill - they could call on MY department's special teams to come and help them out, no strings attached. It might mean having to drive for half and hour or more to get there, so it wouldn't be as quick as if they had their own special team, BUT! They didn't have to come up with enough folks who wanted to learn all those extra things, using equipment that they couldn't afford to buy to keep on hand, to have around all the time. MY department took care of those costs, and just knew that if we were needed, we'd be called.

In places where there are NO larger departments like mine, and EVERYONE in the county is small and unpaid (a situation that is WAY MORE common than you would think) then a lot of times what will happen is that all those little departments' Chiefs will get together and decide which department will take what specialty, and then promise each other that if THEIR specialty is needed by ANYONE, then they will come to help. So, like Department A does Hazmat, and Department B does High Angle, and Department C does Trench, and Department D does Dive and so on. And when Department A needs Dive, then Department D will send their Dive folks to help, knowing that if THEY need Hazmat, Department A will return the favor. That way, specialty rescue stuff is covered, but no one department is getting socked with the costs of the equipment and training for EVERYTHING.

All in all, at least in the United States, if it is a dangerous, emergency type situation, where people need help, firefighters have been tasked with knowing how to deal with it. In some places - like the mountains, for example - there will be other volunteer teams that pick up the slack for really specialty things, like Search and Rescue. In my area, if a hunter went missing, or someone fell off a boat and is thought to have drowned but their body hadn't popped up to the surface or whatever, then the local fire department or the local police department would call in a search and rescue team. That was one of the things I did, and it was almost totally unpaid and volunteer work, because that is something that is used *often*, however, uses a lot more manpower for a lot longer period of time than a typical rescue, and most fire departments or police departments just couldn't *afford* to be able to let their folks take off for that long of a time, and leave the rest of the city to deal with not having them available.

All of this, however, isn't to say that firefighters really *are* "firefighters superhuman heroes that can do literally anything"... Firefighters are expected to know and be able to do a LOT. Basically, fix *any* kind of emergency situation, or at least make it *safER* until the next best expert can come along and fix it for good. BUT no one person can do it all. So they specialize in their respective departments, and hopefully cover all the bases. And sometimes... they either just don't have enough bodies to fill all the roles, or don't have folks who *want* to do certain things, or they just can't *afford* to do what needs to be done. They're expected to know a LOT, but they don't have to learn it all overnight. It takes *years* to finally learn enough of all the skills needed to be proficient, just like in any other job. It's just that in the US, the modern firefighter is expected to be that 100 function swiss army knife, and yet, still be able to fit into your pocket. So in that respect? Yeah, they are, as a TYPE, a little superhuman. But individually, they're just people who feel the same things you do, and have the same sorts of worries and concerns and fears as the average person does. As *individuals*, they're just folks who want to do the best they can to serve their communities and make things safe...

And maybe get a bit of an adrenaline high while doing so.

I hope that this helped! If you have any other questions, just ask!