#infirmary commentary

[gremlin-box]

Fun Fact:

Shirley's favorite food is Habanero Ice Cream

She also really likes salsa

[hxntresses]

She's not angry. Just disappointed.

Okay, maybe a little angry. Or a lot angry. Also a little disturbed.

[solxamber]

Coughing up Love - Idia Shroud x reader

You don't think much of it when Idia starts acting weird because let's be real, that seems to be his default around you. Wait are those flowers he's coughing up?

There’s something odd about Idia lately. He’s acting weird—well, weirder than usual, and that’s saying a lot for someone who’s mastered the art of avoiding people for weeks at a time. It’s subtle at first. His normally snarky, rapid-fire commentary seems more hesitant, his usual screen-lit complexion a bit paler, and he’s excusing himself mid-game way more often than usual.

And, most bizarre of all, every time you hang out, he always seems to keep something in his mouth. Gum, candy, or, more suspiciously, a fist pressed against his lips like he’s hiding something. You know Idia— he's socially awkward, sure, but when it’s just the two of you gaming or chatting, he’s rarely this strange.

Today, the two of you are halfway through an intense raid when he suddenly stands up, his chair creaking violently as he jerks upward.

“Pause! Time out, emergency bathroom break,” he blurts out, yanking his headset off with lightning speed and scrambling for the door.

You frown, watching his character get obliterated on screen. “Dude, you could’ve at least—”

“BRB!” he shouts, voice trailing off as he disappears into the hall. He’s gone in a flash, leaving you blinking at the door, wondering what just happened.

But that’s not the first time, nor will it be the last. Over the next few days, Idia pulls more disappearing acts than a badly programmed NPC. Mid-conversation? Poof, gone. Halfway through a snack? Vanished.

It takes a while, but eventually, the pieces staet to click together. You catch him out of the corner of your eye, face flushed pink, a hand pressed firmly to his mouth as he stifles a coughing fit during one of your game nights. At first, you’re concerned—it’s not like him to get sick, not seriously anyway. You suggest getting him medicine or a trip to the infirmary, but Idia adamantly waves it off.

“I-it’s nothing!” he stammers, trying to hold it together while choking down the coughs. “Just, uh, allergies! Y’know, dust and stuff. Old consoles… gotta, uh, clean them more…”

Suspicious. Old consoles? In Ignihyde? Yeah, right. You narrow your eyes, but drop the subject—at least for now. It’s not until later, when you see something float from his mouth—something blue and oddly petal-like—that you realize what’s happening.

You’ve heard of Hanahaki before. It’s practically a meme among some circles—an outdated trope, really. People coughing up flowers because of unrequited love? What is this, a 2000s anime fanfic? But now, watching a crumpled blue petal fall to the floor in slow motion, you realize that your very own shut-in gamer might be the rare exception to the rule.

The worst part? He’s really, really bad at hiding it.

A few days later, you invite him to hang out at Ramshackle, hoping the quiet environment will calm whatever’s been causing his weird behavior. Things seem fine at first—until you notice him coughing into his sleeve again.

This time, he has a backup plan.

“Are you okay?” you ask, brow raised as he muffles yet another cough.

“Yeah, totally! Just, um…” He rifles through his bag and pulls out a—oh dear sevens, is that a mask?

You can’t help it—you burst out laughing. “You’re… you’re seriously wearing a mask now?”

“It’s for—” He coughs violently again, eyes darting around as if looking for an escape. “For, uh, germs! You know, flu season! Gotta… gotta be prepared…”

You squint at him. “We’re indoors. And it’s summer.”

“Exactly!” he says, as if that makes sense. “The germs are, like, in the air! Sneaky buggers!”

The mask stays on for the rest of the evening, and every time you glance at him, you see his eyes flick away like he’s hiding something worse than a little cough.

His next attempt is, frankly, genius in its stupidity. You’re in his dorm, playing a co-op game, when the inevitable happens: he starts hacking up petals. At first, he plays it off with a hurried gulp of water, but soon the coughing becomes too much. With a gasp, he fumbles for something on his desk—a box of tissues? No, it’s a full-on dust mask this time.

“Idia, what the fu—”

“Pro-gamer tip,” he interrupts, voice muffled behind the mask. “Always be prepared for, uh… dust allergies! It’s, uh, a top-tier strat. Totally not s-suspicious.”

Dust? When he has Ortho making sure that he doesn’t perish? You stare, absolutely dumbfounded. “I’m starting to think you’re more allergic to honesty than dust.”

He laughs—well, tries to. It comes out as a garbled mix of coughing and awkward chuckles. “W-what are you talking about? I’m fine! Really!”

“Fine?” You raise an eyebrow, watching as more petals spill out of his sleeve. “You’re literally falling apart, dude.”

At this, his face burns bright pink, and his hair flares up, turning from it's usual blue to a mortified rosy hue. “N-no I’m not!” he protests weakly. “J-just a little springtime cold, that’s all.”

“Yeah, sure,” you say, crossing your arms. “Because spring colds definitely involve coughing up whole bouquets.”

There’s a brief pause as you both stare at the mess of petals on the floor. Idia winces, clearly defeated, and slumps back into his chair.

“...Crap.”

The look of his face tells you to let it go and you do, believing that it'll probably resolve itself. You weren't from this world, maybe it was common here and you were the one that's overreacting?

After another week of weird excuses, mask-related antics, and watching him suffer through increasingly ridiculous attempts to hide his Hanahaki, you’ve had enough. You’re going to get to the bottom of this once and for all.

You catch him mid-cough during one of his solo raids, bursting into his room without warning. Idia practically jumps out of his seat, slamming the pause button and whirling around with wide eyes.

“W-what are you doing here!?” he yelps, trying (and failing) to hide the petals littering his desk. “I—uh—this isn’t what it looks like!”

“Really? Because it looks like you’ve been coughing up whole flowers,” you say, deadpan, as you point to the pile of blue petals strewn across his keyboard. “Seriously, Idia. What’s going on?”

He freezes. For a moment, the room is deadly silent—except for the faint sound of digital gunfire in the background. His face, already pale, turns ghostly white, and his flames flicker pink in embarrassment.

“I…” He stammers, looking everywhere but at you. “I didn’t… It’s not…”

You cross your arms, raising an eyebrow. “Spit it out. Or should I say, ‘cough it out?’”

It’s the worst joke you’ve ever made, and yet, somehow, it breaks the tension. Idia lets out a wheezing, awkward laugh, though it quickly dissolves into another coughing fit. This time, he doesn’t even try to hide it—just pulls his knees up to his chest and buries his face in his arms, defeated.

“I’m such a loser,” he mumbles, voice muffled. “I thought maybe… maybe if I ignored it, it’d just go away. Y’know, like a glitch or something.”

Your heart clenches at the sight of him, all curled up and vulnerable. It’s so unlike the cocky, trash-talking gamer you’ve come to know. You crouch down beside him, resting a hand on his shoulder.

“Idia,” you say softly, “you’re not a loser.”

He peeks out from behind his arms, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Y-yeah, right. I’m just the guy who gets Hanahaki because I can’t even confess like a normal person.”

You blink. “Wait—Hanahaki? Like actually?”

You did not expect that. You expected it to be some weird disease that was native to twisted wonderland and not actually Hanahaki of all things.

Idia winces, his hair turning a bright shade of pink as he realizes what he’s just admitted. He looks away, fiddling nervously with the edge of his sleeve. “...Yeah. It’s stupid, I know.”

For a moment, you’re speechless. All those strange behaviors, the coughing, the flowers—it all makes sense now. He’s got Hanahaki, and he’s been trying to hide it because…

“Idia…” you whisper, heart pounding. “You love me?”

He squeezes his eyes shut, his whole body trembling. “I-I mean, i-it’s not like I expect you to feel the same! I know I’m not, like, Vil-level handsome or anything. I just… didn’t want to ruin things.”

You feel a warmth spreading through your chest, and before you can stop yourself, you lean in, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.

Idia goes completely still. His hair flares up, a brilliant pink, as he slowly opens his eyes in disbelief.

“Y-you…” he stammers, voice barely a whisper.

You smile softly. “I love you too, you dork.”

For a second, he just stares at you, as if he can’t quite process what you’ve said. Then, with a choked sob, he flings himself into your arms, burying his face in your shoulder as the last of the petals fall away.

“I’m such an idiot,” he mutters, but there’s a hint of relief in his voice. His arms tighten around you, and you can feel the rapid thumping of his heart against your chest.

"You’re not an idiot," you murmur, gently running your fingers through his hair. The flames have cooled down to a soft, warm pink, flickering faintly in the dim light of the room. "And you don’t need to be Vil-level handsome. You’re just you, and that’s more than enough."

Idia snorts, though it’s more out of disbelief than amusement. "Yeah, right. I’m just the weirdo who plays video games all day and coughs up flowers. Super attractive."

You pull back slightly, just enough to look him in the eyes. "Hey, I don’t care about that. Do you think I’d be hanging out with you all the time if I didn’t like you? I’m here because I care about you, Idia."

For a moment, Idia just stares at you, his mouth slightly open like he’s trying to come up with some kind of retort, but nothing comes out. He looks… overwhelmed, his usual sarcastic defense mechanisms short-circuiting under the weight of your words. His eyes dart away, then back to you, and finally, with a shaky breath, he mutters, "I don’t get it… Why me?"

You smile, brushing a stray petal from his hair. "Because you’re kind, even if you don’t realize it. You’re funny, you make me laugh all the time—even when you’re not trying. And you’re smart, way smarter than you give yourself credit for. I like being with you, Idia. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t."

His face flushes a deeper pink, his flames flickering erratically as he shifts nervously in your arms. "I-I… I don’t know what to say…" he stammers, his voice cracking slightly. "I thought for sure you’d think I was a weirdo or something."

You chuckle softly, resting your forehead against his. "Well, you’re my weirdo, then."

That earns a shaky laugh from him, though it quickly turns into another coughing fit. You gently rub his back as he coughs, but this time, instead of petals, there’s just the sound of his breath gradually evening out. He looks at you, wide-eyed, as if expecting to see more flowers—more proof of his self-doubt.

But the petals are gone. The weight that’s been crushing his chest, suffocating him with every breath, has finally lifted.

Idia stares at you for a long moment, his expression softening as the reality of the situation settles in. His arms loosen around you, but he doesn’t pull away—he stays close, resting his head on your shoulder with a sigh that’s both relieved and exhausted.

"Does this mean…" He hesitates, his voice barely above a whisper. "Does this mean we’re… together now?"

You grin, tilting his chin up so he has no choice but to meet your gaze. "If you want us to be."

Idia’s face erupts into a brilliant shade of pink, and for a moment, you think his face might actually catch fire. He quickly looks away, fiddling nervously with the hem of his shirt, but there’s a small, shy smile playing on his lips.

"I-I guess that’d be… kinda nice," he mumbles, almost inaudible.

You laugh softly, leaning in to press a kiss to his forehead. "It’s more than nice, Idia. It’s perfect."

For the first time since you’ve known him, Idia doesn’t argue. He doesn’t self-deprecate or brush off your words with sarcasm. Instead, he lets out a soft, content sigh, resting his head against you again, his flames warm and steady.

"Yeah," he whispers, his voice filled with quiet relief. "I think it is."

And for once, Idia Shroud—the boy who always felt like he didn’t deserve happiness—finally lets himself believe it.

You stay like that for a while, curled up together in the quiet of his room, the low hum of his gaming console filling the background. It’s peaceful in a way you never expected with Idia, who’s usually so frantic and anxious. But now, with the weight of unspoken feelings finally lifted, he’s calm. Happy, even.

After a long moment, he pulls back slightly, glancing at the screen. "Uh… w-we left the raid halfway through," he mumbles, as if the thought had just occurred to him. "My bad. We probably wiped the whole party by now."

You laugh, ruffling his hair. "I think they’ll survive without us for a bit. But we can jump back in if you’re up for it."

Idia hesitates for a second, then shakes his head. "Nah… I’d rather just… stay here. With you."

The admission is so soft, so vulnerable, that it makes your heart ache in the best possible way. You smile, pulling him close again, and this time, he doesn’t flinch or make any excuses. He just rests his head on your shoulder, his pink flames flickering contentedly.

Maybe it’s not the typical "fairy tale" kind of love. It’s awkward and a little messy, filled with gaming mishaps and coughing up flowers. But it’s real. And for Idia, that’s more than enough.

he's reminds me of a pathetic wet cat left in the rain but god do I love him

Masterlist

[berryz-writes]

Matheo Riddle Head canons

Takes AGESS to sleep, like literally stares at the ceiling for two hours to actually fall asleep unless your with him.( He'll fall asleep in 1 hour if your there 😏)

Is a light sleeper and wakes up even if you barely move

Has a resting bitch face. Is literally scaring people off left, right and centre

Likes to have his arm around your waist or shoulders when your walking together

ALWAYS complimenting you. Literally all the time. "You look gorgeous today" "You smell like fucking heaven"

Any time he hears a complaint or that your pissed off he will go out of his way to ask the person "Do we have a problem?"

Will always put something you like in your plate before serving himself

Loves calling you "princess"

Is smirking half the time your with him

He will literally get into two fights a week minimum (you have to stop him before he gets kicked out of the infirmary permanently)

Is really smart at potions and is always asking your opinion on who's better, him or Draco

You say Draco to annoy him (he won't kiss you until you say he's the best at potions) (literally lasts a day until he gives in)

Loves leaving hickeys/marks to show your TAKEN

Stands up for you even if your wrong. Will take the time to explain to you in private why you were wrong

Is literally carrying you from lessons to the quidditch pitch because he heard you say you were tired

When he can't sleep he'll trace your features really lightly, trying to memories you.

Says "I'd rather fucking die than not have you with me" on loudspeaker so everyone can hear. (Ofc everyone is jealous of your cute relationship.)

spends HOURS just listening to you rant and puts in his helpful advice/commentary

Your main source of gossip is Matheo because for some reason he knows everything

[it-happened-one-fic]

An Honor - Jamil

Author Notes: So this fic just kind of happened to be honest. I was bored one day and felt like writing, so I started writing. I suppose the idea behind this fic was that I've always felt like Jamil would be the sort of show off. As per usual, reader is gender-neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Gender-neutral reader/ sfw/ fluff/ fliration/

Word Count: 1899

I blinked up at the young man who looked down at me from where he’d walked over to be my seatmate for the class. And slowly, a smirk appeared on his face that had the surprise slipping off of my face, only to be replaced with mild annoyance as he spoke, his voice filled with smugness, “What’s the matter, Prefect? You look like you just stumbled across an oasis in the desert.”

And people thought Jamil didn’t think highly of himself.

It was a fight not to roll my eyes as I glanced away from him. Pursing my lips slightly and looking toward the front of the class where Trein was watching his selected partners team up.

It was one of those classes where, in the interest of challenging the students, Trein had decided to mix up who we were working with. So instead of having Ace or Deuce with me, I was going to be sitting and working with none other than Jamil. 

Which really shouldn’t have been that bad. He was a perfectly competent student. In fact, competent was putting it lightly. If I were being wholly honest, then Jamil was quite intelligent.

Or at least he was most of the time. Even the highly competent Jamil had his dumb moments, and I'd certainly been privy to some of them.

Nonetheless, in reality, I really should’ve been thrilled to have such a skilled seatmate for a class involving magic use where I couldn’t contribute much of anything in the way of assistance. 

But that reality couldn’t be further from the truth, because when it came right down to it, me and Jamil were like oil and water. Never to be mixed, since it seemed like a conversation between the two of us could never occur with the exchanging of insults and barbed commentary.

I could acknowledge his skills, but at this point they seemed to become more of a consolation prize when it came to having to deal with his mouth.

Either oblivious to my thoughts or uncaring, he sat down next to me smoothly, and I sighed. Resigning myself to my fate as I glanced over his way, “So what spell are you going to be doing and what components are you going to need?”

We both knew I couldn’t contribute much to this activity when I couldn’t use magic. At best, Grim could try and help, and he would have too, since Trein wouldn’t allow otherwise, but I wasn’t about to let him pick the spell. Not when Grim’s last choice had landed both me and Deuce in the infirmary with some nasty burns.

Jamil’s eyebrows arched as Grim protested my words before being silenced by a single glance from me, “It’s my choice then?”

I looked back towards the tanned young man before I nodded. Lifting my shoulder in a half-shrug as I felt a slight smile slip onto my face, “Well, it seems only fair since you’ll have to do most of the work.”

A smug grin spread across his face, and I felt myself tense as I realized exactly what that expression meant before he spoke, “Well, well… This is an honor. I’ll endeavor to live up to it.”

And there it was. His sarcastic side that always seemed to slip out whenever I was alone with him.

I suppose he had no reason to hide it anymore after the events of Winter break, and perhaps I should’ve been flattered that he didn’t feel the need to wear his party mask around me, but I couldn’t help but be annoyed.

It was almost like it was his sole goal in life to harass me at this point, and he unfortunately got lots of openings since our teachers seemed to be perpetually pairing us up.

Either that, or Jamil had an uncanny ability to ensure we got paired together, and if so, these were even more pointed attacks than I’d realized.

Though I would have to admit I was impressed by his ability to get what he wanted if that were the case.

Either way, it was commonplace for Jamil to show off and sass me with thinly veiled, biting comments while I would do my best to bite my tongue and not give him what he wanted by snapping back only to inevitably fail.

I snorted though as Grim looked warily between the two of us and my voice came out filled with dry sarcasm, “I guess that means I can look forward to a really high grade for this class then?”

He outright smirked at me, and I felt myself snort as I shook my head slightly, “So what components are you and Grim going to need?”

Jamil let out a hum as he sat down next to me, leaning over so that his shoulder was pressed against mine as he scanned the sheet of accepted spells for this class.

I shifted, watching as he silently read before nodding, the motion causing his hair to slide freely over his shoulder. The golden beads that he used for decoration clinking together as his gaze slid toward mine in an oddly pleased manner, “Some fire.”

I felt my eyebrows lift as I held his gaze, already suspicious of whatever he was plotting as I echoed his words with blatant disbelief, “Some fire?”

His eyes glimmered at my words before whatever he was thinking was hurriedly concealed. An action that only made me more suspicious as he tilted his head, “You don't trust me?”

His tone was oddly flat and definitely controlled, wholly at odds with what I’d gotten used to from him over the past few months.

I faltered slightly at his sudden change in behavior as I stared back at him before I cleared my throat slightly and gestured to Grim, “Will magic fire work?”

Jamil blinked as if he were briefly surprised before his gaze shifted to where Grim stood, now puffed up with pride at the mere thought of getting to use his trump card in terms of magic. And I watched as Jamil nodded, a smile working its way onto his face as he looked back my way, “I should be able to use that…. Yes.”

I nodded, crossing my arms slightly, “Is there anything else you need?” It was phrased as a question, but I hardly expected for fire to be the only thing that Jamil needed. From what I understood, spells requiring components were fairly common. 

But at odds with my expectations, Jamil only shook his head. Standing as he gestured for me to stay put, “No, you can just sit and watch.”

He paused, that accursed smirk appearing on his face once more as he leaned towards me, “Think you can manage that without causing any messes, Prefect?”

And there it was, a jab at the fact that something always seemed to go down when I was around. And I glowered back at Jamil before smiling with forced sweetness up at him, “Just as well as you can manage pulling off this spell without any issues, I’m sure.”

He snorted, oddly pleased with the fact that I'd bitten back in the way he always was before he straightened again and turned to look at Grim, “Then watch closely, Prefect.”

“I hope you can handle my magic, Jamil,” Grim was utterly smug as he braced himself, and I almost snorted at his commentary.

But at odds with the way Jamil always matched my sarcasm, his response was wholly unimpressed as he pulled out his wand. Eyeing Grim closely the entire time, “Not a problem.”

Grim scowled up at him but blew out a large puff of fire, causing me to swing my legs out of the way with a startled squeak, only for Jamil to catch every bit of it with a single wave of his wand. A smirk already spread across his face as I glanced his way.

And I wasn’t the only one looking. In fact, it seemed like the entire class was looking at us now. A fact that had me frowning.

Because Jamil didn’t like to be the center of attention. He wanted to be recognized for his talents, yes, but not gawked at.

Which I could respect. I couldn’t say I cared for being stared at like some sort of attraction either.

But this time he seemed wholly unbothered by the stares his magic garnered as he deftly wielded Grim’s magic. Seemingly condensing it into a brilliantly glowing ball of blue flame that almost seemed to glitter.

And, despite myself, I could feel my interest growing as I watched closely. Curious as to what Jamil was about to do. Because I had no doubts he would succeed. Like it or not, Jamil was skilled at what he did, and though he might be cocky, he was also good at picking things he could manage so long as he wasn’t competing with someone.

The longer I stared though, the longer the ball of flame remained just that. A condensed ball of blue fire that glimmered mockingly. Like it was playing at being something more than it truly was.

I felt myself frown before I glanced at Jamil's way in slight confusion, only to find him watching me with a smirk on his face, no doubt amused by my obvious fascination with his magic.

As if I wasn’t fascinated by everyone's magic.

I opened my mouth to ask him if everything was alright, only for him to shake his head slightly, “If you look away, you’ll miss the show.”

My eyes widened slightly at his warning before I hurriedly looked back in time to see the magic explode with a mere flourish of the wrist from him.

Blue flames sailed up towards the ceiling before imploding in flower-like patterns that reminded me of kaleidoscopes.

My breath caught slightly in my throat as I stared overhead at the magical fireworks, entirely missing Jamil pocketing his wand and sitting down next to me until the flames had all faded from existence. Leaving only a shower of sparkles that rained down around us as I looked his way in quiet surprise as he grinned at me with open smugness.

I could hear Trein from the front of the class, his voice filled with pleasure, “Very good job, Mr. Viper! Seldom have I seen such a brilliant pyrotechnics spell!”

Jamil nodded, quietly voicing his thanks for the professor’s praise before his gaze met mine once more and his smug smile returned as he leaned over, his voice lowering so only I could hear him, “And there is your ‘high grade,’ as promised.”

I blinked before frowning at him slightly, shaking my head as he only grew more smug, “Fine. I’ll admit it, it was impressive. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

He outright grinned at me, leaning back smugly, “I did say I would endeavor to live up to the honor of getting to use the spell of my choice.”

I paused, tilting my head at him before I finally smiled, half amused even despite our typically acerbic relationship. After all, he’d won fair and square.

“Well, I’d say you lived up to it then,” His smile spread at my words, more genuine this time as he held my gaze. Both of us grinning at the other one and somehow, miraculously, not snarking at the other one.

[sebadztian]

It's that time of the week again. I will post my live commentary that nobody asked for, but I will give anyway...

So, sit back, relax, and enjoy the little devil cheating his way to the top!

Alexis could've been a great father figure for Ciel, tbh. He's one of the most sincere, purest character in Kuro, which is saying something...

They just have to include Harcourt scene in the recap, eh? It just has to be there.

Let's fuck after the cricket game...

Moving on...

It's hard to believe thay this is the same guy who'd lead the Phantomfive band just a few months later...

Ciel, you're in the middle of a game, you know... It's probably not the time to think about your boyfriend butler professor Complete with 💖

Anime logic:

Said in Japanese...

Maurice saw right through Ciel... Takes one to know one, eh? But they're actually more similar than Maurice thinks... For one, neither one of them is affected by ladies legs. Why? Because they're both GAY

UT is holding his hair up in a bun under that top hat!

I just had a random thought. UT chose to show himself for 2 reasons.

1. So that R!Ciel could watch his brother cheat at play cricket.

2. In BoC, UT taunted Ciel, saying that he can't do anything without his butler, so UT showed himself, knowing full well that Ciel would send Seb after 'The Head Master'. And then he took Seb on a chase game so that Ciel can prove to himself(?) that he can win the match without his butler? 🤔

Back to the game... Ciel is very smart and if he were given the chance to go to actual school normally, I'm sure he'll excel academically.

I love rhat Cheslock is calling Ciel a 'shrimp' 🦐

I was right. Seb knew about UT, or rather, UT let the demon find out.

That evil smirk... Ciel has the 'evil blood' from his dad, and that evil gene is enhanced further by having his own demon... This boy is truly a force to be reckoned with.

He found a loophole and used it to his advantage, without breaking any rule. I've a feeling that he's learned this lesson from a certain demon...

I love that Elizabeth is so torn between cheering for her brother or her fiance...

Mey-Rin is like a living, breathing, walking binocular 😂

"There's no ball that I can't hit!"

Big talk for a guy who missed the ball because of some ladies ankles, Greenhill!

What the fuck is that?? A missile?!

Silence... Everyone is so shocked at Ciel's 'heroic act'...

Wait... Wait... That's it?? Where's the scene where Seb carried Ciel to the infirmary?? i was waiting the whole episode for that!! If they cut that in next week's episode, I'm going to riot!!

[demani-dusk]

I don't know anything about Translation State yet and yes I am reblogging every Imperial Radch post I can as preparation for reading it, but I'm very excited because I love Translator Zeiat a lot and a thing I might sort have picked up is that we'll be getting more to do with her whole deal.

I love Translator Zeiat less as I love as character and more as a narrative device, sorry Zeiat, although I do find her hysterical. I love how she underlines themes around identity and categorization by breaking down the way we talk about these things into absurdities.

The most obvious part of the book where she's doing this is when she's explaining about cakes and how if she separates the cakes with fruits from the cake without fruit they're different, but if she mixes them together then they're all the same again. She can add a counter and call it cake and then it's cake too! At this point, it's fairly apparent she's talking about people and how there are different kinds of humans. And in this case, that's what she means to talk about. Or rather, she is talking about how words work in general and it's very apparent this insight is most helpful when talking about categorizing people.

But like, what else has she got going on? She accepts Breq deciding that she's Zeiat and not Dlique. By the end of Ancillary Mercy we don't really know how translators work or how correct Breq may have been, but it works out because Zeiat is so very happy she's Zeiat and not Dlique. This is very Gender to me, the way arbitrarily being called something different causes Zeiat to behave differently and she's so Happy about it. She talks about how if she were to go home everyone would call her Dlique and she wouldn't like it. It's also a fun scifi way to raise the question to the reader, what does it mean to be one thing and not another? By forcing the reader to try to figure out what is going on with the translators' identities, we have to just, think about how identity works. And it's a theme for the series. Sick!

Fish sauce is a condiment, not a drink. That fish is for looking at, not for eating. Have you noticed that these fish cakes are entirely the same on the inside but the other fish have very complicated insides? All I'm saying is, what's the difference between a citizen and a noncitizen? One of them is Civilized and the other isn't.

And my favorite is Zeiat finding Breq in the infirmary and re-introducing herself and saying she'll miss the old fleet captain. This must be a new fleet captain, because the old fleet captain had two legs! All of these scenes are so so funny to me, but this is very interesting to say to Breq imo, the last ancillary of a dead troop carrier. How different is it for Zeiat to call her a new person than for people who know her history to think of her as "Breq," and not "Justice of Toren?" I guess I also love this because I similarly love the way Breq's story in Ancillary Justice plays with mathematical identity in a fun scifi way while the whole series plays with gender identity in a different kind of fun scifi way, and both of these are part of a commentary on identity and empire in the real world. It's good scifi! !!!

[hello-from-nrc-infirmary]

ss sss shehu stsss shshhs sttsss shhus sstss

(it was a struggle to get the funding out of the headmage for a specialty room but... we got it)

If I had a nickel for every Overblot that has occurred and not been reported to me or any of the staff members in general, I'd have an absolutely abnormal amount of nickels?

It would be bad enough if it was just the few that occurred at the start of the year, but AT THIS POINT? I'm beginning to consider transferring to another school.

Can't believe I'm wondering if RSA is hiring...

[aealzx]

The quiet of the infirmary was welcomed, but Leo also didn’t miss it when it was broken by Mikey bursting into the doorway with his hands holding an item above his head. “Leo! Mama and April brought strawberries AND watermelon!” Mikey announced, the huge melon balanced in his rocking hands.

“Two watermelons!”

“TWO watermelons!”

Mikey could barely contain his excitement, repeating April’s comment that filtered in from the other room and causing Leo to laugh. “She’s gonna see if Raph can fit a whole one in his mouth! You gotta come watch!”

“What? No way! There’s no way!” Leo sputtered even as Carol winced before rolling her eyes with a sigh. Leo was about to scramble off the bed, but stopped and turned back when he remembered he was supposed to watch after Donnie. Crouching close to his brother, Leo rested a hand on his shoulder and lowered his voice to almost a whisper. “Hey Dee, you wanna come get some strawberries?”

With all the noise being made it was safe to say Donnie was already awake, but he appreciated Leo being quieter to talk to him. Normally he loved strawberries, but right then it just felt like too much. So with a scratchy cough he just twitched his head to decline and buried down in the blanket.

Leo seemed a little concerned at the reaction, and moved his hand to rest gently against Donnie’s forehead again. “Okay. We’ll just save some for you for later,” Leo promised, nudging his own head against Donnie for a moment before squirming off the bed. “Can you keep an eye on him, Mom?”

“Of course, honey. Go have fun and enjoy the snacks,” Carol assured, not wanting to keep Leo from being the teenager he was. She wasn’t really in the mood to watch Raph shove an entire watermelon in his mouth anyway. Leo just flashed a bright smile before he gingerly hobbled out the door.

—--------

“Coming to you live from Subway Hamato, this is April O’Neil about to witness the beginning of a new record. ONE entire watermelon, carefully cut from its disgusting rhine prison, is about to be devoured in no more than two bites by none other than Raphael Hamato.”

April’s phone was swooshed dramatically between the lair’s kitchen scene, to herself, then to the red orb of one of the watermelon’s she and Carol brought, before swooshing back up to Raph, who just gave a big smile and wave.

“Blue! Where are your crutches?” Splinter’s voice came from off camera as Leo hobbled gingerly over to them from the infirmary.

A brief flash of fear from a teenager getting caught crossed Leo’s face before he brushed it off lightly. “It’s fiiine pops. It’s just bruised,” he waved, flopping onto the stool next to Raph.

“Don’t you downplay it Blue. It’s something worse, isn’t it?” Splinter scolded, pointing the blunt ended melon knife he had at his son without fully realizing it was in his hand.

That caused Leo to roll his eyes, avoiding the concerned look from Raph. “What? Psshhh, nooo. I was just sitting on it wro-.”

“Considering the way you were walking, it’s probably one of your ligameeeennnttts- um… am I cutting these right? I think this is the first time I’ve seen a strawberry,” Casey’s interrupting commentary about Leo’s injury was steered to a different topic when Leo gave the lad a pointed stare.

“You’ve never seen strawberries??” Mikey blurted, mouth dropping. “Oh mi gosh, you have to try one, now!”

With the conversation being torn away, Raph just made sure Leo saw his concern before he turned back to April’s camera and brought his smile back. Splinter just continued to narrow his eyes at Leo though, so Leo finally broke down and hunched across the counter to whisper rapidly. “Okay, it’s a slight ATFL tear. But I’ve already taken anti inflammatories, I’m still wearing the brace, and I’ll portal back instead of walking and get ice on it after. Alright?”

Splinter kept his eyes narrowed for a moment longer than necessary so Leo would squirm slightly, but then just passed a slice of the second watermelon over to him before patting his head gently.

Giving Leo a quick wink, April shifted her phone back into view to return to her mock reporting. “Spectating with us are Raphael's younger brothers, Leonardo and Michaelangelo, his esteemed father Splinter, and the newest addition to the family, Casey Jr.”

The introductions earned a dashing smile and mask tail flip from Leo, and a toothy grin and double hand wave from Mikey. Splinter just gave his trademark grin and wink, while Casey just looked confused. Something that only increased when April stayed on him for her next question. “What are your thoughts Casey Jr? Will history be made, or will we be cleaning watermelon from the floors?”

“Uhhhhhh…,” Casey’s blank answer was reflected on his face openly, gaze moving from April, to Raph, then the peeled watermelon orb.

“An astute answer, my boy! Who can say? Such a feat has never been attempted before, being deemed too unfair for the annual Lair Games. Raphael, are you confident in your performance?” April adapted to Casey’s non answer easily, swooshing the camera back to Raph.

“Raph is gonna eat this melon in one bite. Like a BOSS! I can fit my fist in my mouth, and this thing isn’t even as big as my fist!” Raph responded, pumping his arm and holding his closed fist next to the melon for comparison.

“There you have it folks! A man of confidence ready to take on his foe. If you’re ready, we’ll begin in three, two, one!” April cheered, figuring she shouldn’t delay them any longer since Leo and Mikey were already shoving their slices of watermelon halfway into their own mouths, and Raph already had the melon orb in his hands.

By the count of one Raph shoved the melon into his mouth and chomped down, the fruit being crushed and squished out from his cheeks even as juice poured down his chin. Leo and Mikey were belting out their laughter within seconds, only getting louder when Raph smiled proudly and cupped his hands under his chin to catch the falling fruit pieces. Mikey’s laughing ended up mixed with pained chirps though as his bruised ribs protested the rough treatment, and he slid off his stool and circled around his chest.

“Yu khey M’kee?” Raph asked around his mouthful, causing Leo to give a loud honk before he fell off his own stool, and April had to put her phone down so her own roaring didn’t shake it while it was still recording.

“HA - AAHHOW! SHUT UP!” Mikey howled, wheezing and slapping the floor while his other hand pressed against his side. And after a quick glance at Splinter to make sure the teens were actually okay, being met with loud laughter from Splinter, Casey gave a soft huff of amusement before he allowed himself to add his own voice to the raucous merriment.

--------

Previous

____________________

some silliness for you guys >U<

(leo's mask being pushed up for eating was directly inspired by this headcanon from thesofgengar )

[infiniteeight8]

hi!! as always I love your fics. you’re a truly talented writer and you just get these characters for real. could you maybe write something about how Stephen deals with his trauma immediately after dormammu, and how Tony responds/helps?? thank you so much!!

Thank you so much! <3 I admit that although I have done *some* reading, I’m very far from an expert on PTSD. So this is going to lean towards hurt/comfort and support, rather than the kind of therapeutic help that Stephen probably needs.

Also, I’ve written a few mundane!Stephen/Avenger!Tony ficlets, so let's switch it up and do some Avenger!Stephen/mundane!Tony. 😀 The timeline doesn’t really work, but pfft, who cares, this is AU anyway!

-

Captain America is halfway through his ‘That was reckless, are you trying to get yourself killed, do we need to be Concerned’ lecture when Tony bursts into the infirmary and hurries over to where Stephen is sitting. 

“Thanks, Cap, appreciate your concern, I’d like to be alone with my partner now, thank you,” Tony says. He doesn’t even look at Cap as he speaks, instead sliding in between him and Stephen and taking Stephen’s face gently in his hands. 

“Tony—” Cap begins, so Tony leans forward and gives Stephen a long, deep kiss. There’s one last, exasperated sigh and then the sound of footsteps retreating. 

When he’s gone, Tony breaks the kiss. Stephen leans forward and rests his head on Tony’s shoulder. “I really wasn’t trying to get myself killed,” he says softly.

Tony strokes the nape of his neck. “You forget death was permanent again?” Stephen nods slightly. “I know you need to be out there, helping,” Tony says, “but are you sure it’s not too soon?”

Stephen pulls back, taking Tony’s hands in his. “If I don’t experience new battles, then Dormammu continues to be the template I return to,” he says. He looks tired, lost. “They’re just so similar. I wish—” he cuts himself off.

“Wish what?” Tony prompts.

“You’re the only thing that never makes me think I’m looping,” Stephen admits, gripping his hands tighter. “I wish I could take that with me.”

Relief washes through Tony at the realization that there’s something tangible he can do to help. “I could add a private channel to your comms,” he says. “Just let me know when I need to keep up a running commentary; you know I can talk forever.”

Stephen laughs and pulls Tony into another kiss. “That would be perfect,” he murmurs against Tony’s mouth.

[gremlin-box]

Scrolling through tumblr and stumbling on the prettiest dresses that I wanna shove Vern into (because he'd find them nice)

All while knowing he'd immediately want gloves to wear with them

(Should I sent him the gloves?)

[scionshtola]

FFXIVWrite2024 Prompt 11 - Surrogate

characters: Y’shtola Rhul, Original Character ships: Y’shtola Rhul/Corisande Ymir rating: Mature (sexual content) | word count: 519 words summary: Whilst engaging in her mutually beneficial relationship with Saide, Y’shtola’s thoughts drift to Corisande. notes: Some 5.0 spoilers I suppose. A while ago I decided Y’shtola should have a fwb on the First!

Saide is a pragmatic woman. Reasonable and reasonably confident, and more importantly, Y’shtola thinks, as the woman’s hands move over her body, reasonably competent. 

Until recently, her touch had been more than enough to satisfy Y’shtola. 

‘‘Twas not a matter of skill, then, that kept Y’shtola from reaching her peak. There had been zero problems in that regard for the past few weeks—the entire length of their sexual relationship. In fact, Y’shtola had found herself rather easier to please than she remembered. She supposed that’s what happens when you spend several moons trapped in the Lifestream, followed by several more in the infirmary, not to mention the years yearning for someone in no position to return her feelings, grieving as they were for the love they lost. 

In a drought, even a little rain is a relief.

It had seemed like a good enough idea at the time. She’d seen it coming, seen Saide building up to it the few days before she kissed her over their evening cup of tea shared in the room the Night’s Blessed had provided her. 

Saide was certainly attractive, as far as Y’shtola could tell. A solidly built hume woman, strong from years of working with her hands, a few ilms taller than her. Her hair was dark, or so she’d said, and it fell just past her chin. And she was easy to talk to, as liable to tease Y’shtola as she was to make an insightful commentary on the topic at hand, or a wry joke about the state of Norvrandt. But Y’shtola had still been surprised to find herself leaning into the kiss, heat stirring as she chased Saide’s mouth. 

There was little romance to it when Y’shtola pulled her into her bed. Saide never stayed the night—her own idea, though it was certainly a relief to Y’shtola that they both viewed it only as a mutual meeting of needs. 

But those needs had grown harder to meet these past few days. Fortunately or unfortunately—she couldn’t decide—Y’shtola knows both the source of the disconnect and the solution to the problem.

Perhaps it is rude to think of another when so intimately twined with a woman. But Saide is a pragmatic woman, and they are only here for one reason. 

When Y’shtola curls her hand into Saide’s hair, she imagines pink and red strands slipping through her fingers. When Saide kisses her, she conjures a pair of sweetly curved lips, tilted in a smile. And when Saide’s hands cup and smooth and stroke, Y’shtola thinks of a different pair of hands—soft, slender fingers she knows well from all the times they’ve been laced with hers; a warm, gentle touch she’d felt on her arm, her waist, the small of her back countless times over the years. 

It is easy, after that. The heat and the pressure builds where there was barely a simmer before, and it is not long before Y’shtola reaches her tipping point. She bites her lip, straining as she comes apart to keep the name on the tip of her tongue from passing her lips. Cori. Cori. Cori.

[madraleen]

Genshin Impact - To the Stars Shining in the Depths Act III and Act IV Commentary (full spoilers)

-Finding a quiet place to read a book?! Not me relating to Paimon?!

-I love the Furina-Neuvillette interactions.

-FATHER IS HERE! FATHER ARLECCHINO IS HERE, THIS IS NOT A DRILL!

-Oh, the House of Hearth is in Fontaine? I wasn’t sure.

-”A personal relationship with the administrator” - NEUVILLETTE, WHAT! Hoyo, why you feeding us the good Wrio/Neuvi content like that

-No, I don’t want that cake, the Knave brought that cake, what are you up to, Monsieur Neuvillette?

-I also think spoilers are despicable, thank you Charlotte (*and I’m just realizing post-quests that in the end we never catch up with Charlotte??)

-I see. We are guilty of eating the cake. Neuvi, you little snek.

-Did Childe get teleported in the Abyss or something

-Wriothesleyyyy! Is he cat-oriented? Dog-oriented?

-Why is our baby Lyney in prison! Oh, he should be Arlecchino’s spy, yeah? We’re disrupting Wriothesley’s business so bad

-What Neuvillette and Wriothesley have to discuss is not for your ears, Paimon. Let them be.

-The rizz of Lyney to leave us a card, jeez.

-The two spies from the two sides, we really are star-crossed lovers, aren’t we, Lyney

-Oh, Lyney actually goes out of his way to tell us everything, good boy. Or he might be manipulating us, but you know what, eff it, I choose to trust Lyney and take him at face value.

-Lyney, your crush is showing.

-Sigewinne’s lil shoes tho.

-Childe, I love you, but investigating you is taking too long and I’m not interacting with any main characters and I’m starting to grumble

-Is Alexis’ VA Diluc’s VA…? They sound so similar (JP dub).

-How long has Childe been in prison???

-Lyney really said “We will not take advantage of my crush. Lynette! To the infirmary!”

-We are the Romeo and Juliet of Genshin, Lyney. Deny thy Father, Lyney.

-Traumatic flashbacks Lyney?? “This is not like what happened last time, the situation is different now”??? He is SUFFERING, omg LYNEY

-”A parents’ evening” hahaha

-Us to Siggie: “If you’re close with Neuvillette, why not learn a thing or two about virtue from him?” Wow, we’re going all out on protecting and standing up for the Lyney siblings, huh. Look at us go.

-FREMINET CONSUMED PRIMORDIAL SEAWATER??? HELP!

-Ah yes, patch 4.1, the “Lyney Has a Breakdown” patch.

-Wriothesley and Sigewinne are so unpredictable.

-”Lyney has finally begun to stop tensing the muscles on his face” ??? JUST HOW CLOSE ARE YOU WATCHING HIM, AETHER

-I love the siblings’ interactions, they’re so soft, and I love that we finally see more of them with Freminet. They are adorable.

-Why is Aether smiling when admitting we’ll tell our little Fatui friends everything, lmao.

-Wriothesley about to become his technical consultants’ best man.

-The siblings see us as familyyyy waaaaaahhhh :’))))

-I was like, what is Wriothesley gonna do, PUNCH the water? But yes, ofc, he’s cryo, he’s legit gonna punch the water.

-The Neuvillete-Wriothesley-Clorinde interactions are so interesting, they’re such a power group of people. Also they’re Levi, Erwin and Mikasa, THESE ARE MY PEOPLE! Also, I’m very happy we see more of Clorinde, and for some reason extra happy that she works with Wriothesley because it just makes sense, somehow. They seem to match so well.

-Furina Marie-Antoinette-coded huh

-Arclecchino is pyro? I mean, she’s not wrong with her questions at Furina. But see, this just makes me think even more that Furina DOES have a plan… but not this Furina. That she split parts of herself… for reasons. And they’re somewhere. Including in the Oratrice. And she’ll become Furina-Furina again in the next Archon Quest. Maybe she even used part of her to make Neuvillette into who he is, idk.

-Are we seriously reassuring the Knave that Lyney et al are good little Fatui? We’re so fond of them.

-Oh? Father(-in-law) knows I’m close to her son?

-Dude, it’s so cool speaking so civilly and openly with Arlecchino, especially after dealing with Dottore and Scaramouche.

-I would also be happy to cooperate with you, Arlecchino, I really would! Even Aether’s not reacting negatively, he’s not outright rejecting it.

-It wouldn’t be a Neuvillette patch without some Water Dragon tears.

-We are actually asking if he’s the Dragon!!

-And he just outright said yes?!?! WHAT! Refreshing.

-Ooooh, such interesting lore! Dragons are weaker now because part of their power is the basis of the Archons’ Authorities!

-Freminet hang-out when

-Lyney’s like, “YAAAAY, Father approves of my crush! My crush didn’t immediately clash with Father! YAAAY!”

-I love the way our relationship with the siblings is evolving

-90% of the people we’ve met in Fontaine: “This is normal human behavior, right? I’m doing it right, right?”

-Wriothesley and Neuvillette trying to flirt will be like, “Wanna bring the water… And I’ll bring the tea… And have a tea-making session…”

-AAAHH, I can’t wait for Act V, it’ll be probably be the finale, right?

[belovedcorvid]

❣ | @onepiecc :: From Here |

Rocinante's expression pinched sympathetically as the other hissed through the pain that came with applying antiseptic to a wound; he was usually on the other side of this activity, so he knew how badly this could sting - even if it was only a temporary sting. " Sorry, sorry - " he mumbled in response, brushing a thumb in a comforting circle along the other's wrist. Once this part was over, he could check to see if any of the wounds needed sutures. The question made him pause for just a moment in his search through the kit for more supplies, and he tilted his head as he thought about it. They did have some food, but depending on this weather they could stretch it further if they supplemented with foraged food. " It might not be a bad idea - anything in our gear we could use as a fishhook? " The occasional disaster aside, fishing was something we wasn't bad at.

Even though they were now out of the wind, the cold - or at least his awareness of it - was really starting to set in. Best to keep working, talking: both to keep warm and to keep their minds busy. The next question still took him by surprise. " Me ? " he smiled and snickered a little at the idea as he worked, though the expression didn't quite reach the eyes, " Hah, I appreciate it but I don't think I'd do very well - I'm a hazard even when I'm trying to be careful. Can you imagine me running an infirmary ? Or giving injections ? Besides - " Rocinante paused as he chose his words, " I don't really have to think about that . . . choosing, I mean. My courses have been planned since I started. " Sengoku had always approached his training with something of a '10-year plan', especially once the potential of his devil fruit became clear to his superiors. " I think you'd be good at that, paperwork aside. " Leigh's continued commentary made a snort of laughter escape from his chest, his expression openly puzzled but amused, " Blonde specifically ? Not leaving yourself a lot of choices, you know. "

[sebadztian]

Aaand here we go again! I'm so ready for their wedding scene! If they cut that out, I swear I'm going to...

*AHEM*

Welcome to another live commentary of Black Butler episode and this week, we're going to watch episode 8! Sit back, relax, and enjoy the wedding show!

They did it!! Oh, I'm so happy!! And they even put special filter on!!

The blushing bride (pls ignore the blood and the horrible quality of my screenshot. Well, it's a photo that I take with my phone of my computer screen)

That's not what you call your new wife master, Professor.

And everyone claps as the newlyweds walked up the aisle... and to the infirmary...

Look, if they're going to roll around in the mud and stuff, why did they insist on white attire for cricket? Those stains must be a pain to remove...

And how did Ciel manage to stay clean?? Not a speck of dust on him and his clothes despite having been struck down by a bat.

Another favourite of mine...

I don't blame him. That does look yummy!

Ok, so, didn't anyone question why Professor Michaelis is helping Ciel in the changing tent??

Ah, so they decided not to acknowledge Nina Hopkins altogether, eh?

Phipps has brought along his chicken!! Another point for episode 8!!

Also, I've been wondering, why didn't Agni come to watch the game? Did Yana just... forget about him? I know he was there duirng the whole pie-switching confusion, but why didn't he join the others afterwards?

🥰😊😻 Phipps is one of my favourite characters in Kuro, if you're wondering... They did seem to have changed his hairstyle though... Or is it because he has a chicken sitting on his head?

Ok. That's cooler than what I've expected... Cheslock is a man of many talents and he's the coolest student in the entire Weston!

That was a great episode! I enjoyed it very much! And next week, we'll be moving to the main battle and the reveal of the truth. I cannot wait to see it!

[aggressivelyaverage21]

Shannon gets stitched up. Sister Agatha is the best. Mary tries to get Shannon to rest and ends up taking a nap too. Lilith and Beatrice share a meal. Beatrice tries to take Shannon a little pick-me-up. Apparently, Shannon's the best room to sleep in. Mary gets protective. Mother Superion misses being Suzanne.

Getting Shannon corralled to the infirmary wasn’t nearly as tricky as Mary had anticipated. Shannon more or less followed her a bit like a puppy at her heels as Mary made her way through The Cradle. 

Once Shannon sits on the padded table, Mary carefully helps her from her shirt. This time, without the hilarious commentary of asking for a date. The concussion’s heaviness has fully settled after being upright for a few too many hours. Mary winces as she carefully pulls the tape away from Shannon’s warm, nearly hot skin, the gauze bloodied on the outside. “Sorry, Shan,” she murmurs as she peels the dressing away from the inflamed skin. Though Shannon hadn’t said anything or so much as flinched away, Mary knew it hurt. 

Shannon got a set to her jaw when she was in pain. A little ball of muscle that rounded just at the turn of it. She also had a tendency to white knuckle anything in her hand. “Sssokay.” 

 “It’s been a while since you two have stopped by.” A third voice calls quietly to them, stepping into the room after returning from lunch. Mother Superion had told her they might be stopping by after she’d gotten a very quick, very frustrated debrief from one Sister Lilith. 

“Are you asking for more injuries, Sister Agatha?” Mary can’t help but tease. For the most part, their crew usually escaped the missions injury free. It had been a while since they needed a trip to the infirmary. 

“Not at all. Maby a visit here or there,” the older woman winked at the pair, sliding on nitrile gloves. She had been doing this a long time, and in her experience seeing the sisters was usually so good for the soul. It was a privilege for her to be able to care for them when they returned from the field in need of some medical care. 

“We can do that.” Mary smiled. She always did like Sister Agatha. She also didn’t hate her and Shannon being considered a ‘we.’ Even if it was just in the context of two close friends. However, Mary suspected that Sister Agatha had been around long enough to have some observations on the matter. 

Sister Agatha retrieves the suture kit after one glance at the torn skin just on the back of Shannon’s shoulder. She was always surprised that she didn’t have to do these more often. Not that she wasn’t practiced with the best of them, but one would imagine more accidents at the Cradle requiring her skill set than there usually were. Not that she also hadn’t needed to stitch Shannon up several times over the years. More missions, more risk, she supposed. And no one went on more missions than Shannon. 

Not even the Warrior Nun. 

Many sisters were stoic as she probed at the cuts and slid the needle into the tender skin for the lidocaine. Shannon, however, usually smiled at her, never pausing easy conversation. Only occasionally did her eye twitch if something was particularly painful. Today, she hadn’t offered more than a tired smile as a greeting as she watched Agatha carefully as she readied the supplies. 

Mary swapped places with the nurse as she slid around to Shannon’s front, providing her stomach as a resting place for Shannon’s forehead, her fingers resting gently at the back of Shannon’s neck, offering what support she could. Shannon would have protested: That she didn’t need it. That she had no problems with needles. That she had received stitches on too many occasions to count. 

All of that would have been true. 

Yet, Shannon let herself sink in the comfort Mary was offering. A shiver ran through her when more cool saline flushed the wound. Sister Agatha worked silently behind the injured sister warrior after tisking at her as she first evaluated the cut. She let her eyes take in the lump forming on the end of Shannon’s shoulder and shook her head, unsurprised. “Shannon, these old fingers are getting tired of stitching you up.” 

“Sorry,” She murmured, not bothering to lift her head from its resting place against Mary’s soft shirt. Getting lost in the warmth of the old cotton that smelled so much like her own clothes, the two of them often do their laundry together now. Mary’s always smelled just a bit more of eucalyptus and sage. 

It always surprised Shannon at just how soft Mary’s hands were and somehow that they always managed to be warm. Even her callouses felt soft, like a slightly thicker skin on the pads of her palm rather than roughness that would grate at Shannon’s. 

Shannon was mildly aware that they weren’t alone, but she couldn’t stop herself from nuzzling just a bit closer into Mary. Her left hand reached up to grip the hem of Mary’s shirt loosely, an assurance that she wouldn’t back away. 

“She hit her head pretty good,” Mary filled in at Agatha’s concerned look, “we didn’t let her sleep on the way back.” And yes, that would explain it, the nurse thought. 

Shannon did always appreciate that, even on the more tender injuries she’d gotten over the years. Sister Agatha’s hands were always soothing. Never harsher than they needed to be, if she could help it. Aside from setting a bone or two for a sister or reducing a joint back to its proper place. 

Luckily there would be none of the latter today. 

After the stitches and the lidocaine in her still very separated shoulder, Sister Agatha evaluated Shannon’s other injuries and allowed Mary to help her back into her shirt. It always warmed her heart to see Shannon, the young woman who had shown up here so guarded and alone, being cared for once. Mary did an excellent job at that. If Agatha weren’t certain it would scare both the women in front of her off, she would have told them how good it was for her old heart to see.

Instead, she sent Shannon and Mary to get some reset. Not after being adamant with her very specific instructions for sleep, ice, and taking it easy for the next two weeks. This might have been the only time Shannon hadn’t protested the length of recovery, instead just nodding as Sister Agatha re-secured the sling for her.  

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