#maybe like emergency first-aid classes?

[leemarkies]

if i pass this deposition group project i shouldn't have to take the bar they should just give me my license bc i had to deal with my dumbass groupmates

[kombuuuu]

would u write angst with 1610 miles? Like they’re best friends and both like each other but miles is distant bc of spider-man stuff. Maybe reader tries to distract herself by going on a date but it goes bad and miles comforts her and reveals he’s spider-man and confesses to her that he likes her:,)

“Im Spiderman!”

Miles Morales x Fem!Reader

“What the hell.”

“Mi vida, listen.”

“What the actual hell.”

Of course sugar, this silly little angst WILL BE SOOOOO DELICIOUS

warnings: hurt/comfort, attempted sexual assault (not by Miles)

Miles had been distant.

He kept brushing you off, planning times to meet up and missing them. Calling you in no hurry then all of a sudden there’s a family emergency and he hangs up.

Now you would understand if it was just a few times, hell, even more than a few times you’d just convince yourself you were paranoid. But every time for the past two months?

You’d right about had enough.

If Miles doesn’t want to commit to your.. not relationship..

Then you won’t either.

—

Miles had been busy. Life had gotten ahead of him when he’d least expected it. After a year of Spider-ing (?), he’d finally settled into a nice pattern of, wake up, do things, call you, see you, call you again to make sure you got home safe, protect the innocent civilians of Brooklyn, also do illegal graffiti, then go home. And maybe text you. All of that had been snatched from under him like a shaggy rug. Tripping over his own feet and struggling to right himself.

He had some fued going on with a villain he’d heavily underestimated. Their likeness not only in fighting, but also preying. Miles had started home from his patrols more than once to find a chip attached to his shoe. Beeping only audible from his advanced hearing.

It had stumped him into a nervous stupor. Constantly worried that someone bad is going to waltz through his front door.

He was worried they would catch wind of you, and although that had always lingered at the back of his mind. Losing you had been put on the forefront the moment you came to school injured one time, saying some guy just wanted drug money, and was pretty easy to scare away. Doesn’t mean he didn’t nick you in the cheek real good. Blade running quick against your cheek, and lord were you grateful it was light.

Miles had pulled you out of class, ignoring the behest of his professor and dragged you to his secret stash of first aid supplies, locked away in an empty and unused science room.

“So why’s it here?” He glanced up at you, confused.

“Huh? What’s here?”

His puzzled expression pulled at your heartstrings, giving you some sweet butterflies. “The first aid kit, dummy.”

“Oh.. Oh! Yeah-“ he threw his hand behind his neck, blazer sleeve crawling up his arm. “Uh- For ‘mergencies..” He quickly went back to cleaning your cut, finding your gaze too strong on him, but unable to avoid it.

“This is an emergency?”

He grabbed your chin between his forefinger and thumb, tilting it slightly up and to the side, then continuing with his right hand at dabbing your cheek with antiseptic.

“It will be if you keep moving.”

You prayed he didn’t notice how hot your cheeks felt.

Once Miles finished, he caressed your face softly for a moment, relishing in the contact before he quickly packed his stuff away and rushed out of the room in an excuse of “late for class”. You stayed sitting at the table for a further two minutes before getting up gently, grabbing your bag, and leaving the ‘abandoned’ classroom.

—

You were sitting on the curb of your apartment. Wishing you could just go back inside and sleep. Miles hadn’t spoken to you for a week. You didn’t want to seem like a clingy girlfriend, but god you felt like one. You were waiting patiently on for the bud to arrive, far too early in the morning. Sat in the spot Miles would usually meet you at, you sighed down at your feet. Had you done something wrong? Your relationship had been blossoming the past few months into something you’re sure was reciprocated. There was no way that the endless supply of intimate moments between the two of you was a coincidence.

The way your whole face would light up at the mere sight of him had to be clear as day.

You swore up at the sky, watching your breath fog up in the winter air, the slow screech of your bus coming around a corner brung you back down to earth. Day dreams about a boy who you probably don’t even cross the mind of cut short.

You stood up and groaned, stretching your arms and leaned against the bus pole. Except it didn’t stop. It didn’t even slow down, and when you’d realised the driver wasn’t pulling into the parking bay, you were already too late.

“Oh- C’mon, really!” You kicked your foot against the scuffed ground, pouting at no one and complaining to no one too.

“Miss the bus?”

A man who looked to be around 17 approached you. You stepped back from him, him getting the hint and not getting any closer.

“Oh- Uh.. Didn’t mean to seem like a creep or anything,” he laughed lightly, dimples showing at the action. “I just, also missed the bus.” He gestured down to himself, disheveled clothes and messy hair.

Disheveled clothes didn’t look as good on him as it did Miles, but you smiled and hugged a laugh anyways.

This could be your chance, get out of your rut. Back into the dating scene and away from Miles.

Yet it seems you couldn’t go two minutes without him on your mind.

“Hence why I look like this.”

His eyes flickered back to yours, taking in tour appearance as well.

“Guess we’ll have to walk,”

He laughed, “Guess so.”

“Not like our clothes can get much more creased.”

That brought a genuine chuckle out of the man, eyes squinting at the sarcastic tone you held.

“Well, I know a couple ways.”

He winked at you and you huffed, following behind him as you began the treck to your school.

—

The man you met had been named Arthur. He was understanding of your humour, and pretty well in his own. He seemed king of untrustworthy, though. You just didn’t understand why, something about him made your stomach churn. Maybe it was butterflies?

You had been talking for a week before he asked you out.

The fact surprising you. Never in your life had you met someone and them be wanting to date you within the same month, let alone fortnight.

“Yeah- yeah, okay.”

Miles’ face crossed your mind in a fleeting thought, sending goosebumps along your skin and a buzz through your bloodstream.

You’d just gotten asked out by someone attractive, said yes, and weren’t told it was some joke. And yet, the mere thought of Miles brought a quake to your knees? Good god.

Cross your fingers this date gets him off your mind and his image peeled from the backs of your eyelids.

“Cool, see you Friday?” Arthur stood from his chair, walking backwards towards the door.

“Yeah, Eight good?”

“Absolutely.”

—

Arthur had met you at ten, not eight. So you had spent the better of two hours thinking you got stood up by *someone you didn’t even know.

The moment he’d stepped in front of you, the nice outfit you were wearing felt overdressed and unfitting, he was wearing the same day-to-day clothes. It felt almost embarrassing.

“You clean up nice, babe.”

The name had you near gagging.

“Oh! Uh Thanks!” You grimaced as he winked.

The restaurant you’d arrived at was fairly busy, a quaint place with hung string lights and vines crawling along the ceiling. It led out into a cute garden, where it looked to be their own food growing.

At least he knows how to pick a place.

—

Fifteen minutes into the date, you had just gotten your food. And Arthur wouldn’t, for the life of him, talk.

It was so unnatural, so absolutely awkward you had just picked at your nails until your food arrived.

He had chatted with the waiter more than you.

“So uhm.. Arthur!”

He grunted an acknowledgment and glacéd you at you before returning to his food.

“What do you do study?”

“Anthropology.”

“Cool, I’ve always liked stuff like that.”

“Uhuh.”

You were going to shoot yourself if this man gives you anymore one word answers.

After a few more busted attempts, you had given up on trying. Just focusing on finishing your food faster so you could get the hell out of here.

A man you didn’t know came over to greet Arthur, said man responding enthusiastically. Peeking up and talking with “David” about who-knows-what.

“And who’s this lovely lady?”

“Oh hello, I’m—“

“—She’s my girlfriend David, so don’t try. Maybe after a while i’ll convince her to let me share ‘er with you.”

Girlfriend? Share?? What the fuck.

David laughed whilst he eyed you, his body leaning scarily close to you. You chuckled politely, what the hell.

“Well, let’s hope she agrees, huh?” David’s sly voice sent a shiver us disgust down your spine, seeping into your bones like marrow.

“She will.” Arthur assured him. You felt sick, violated. You need to leave, you need to get to Miles.

—

Another ten minutes passed before you’d both finally left the restaurant, the air getting stuffy with so many people around, and no one to see your fear.

Arthur had insisted walking you home. Which you vehemently refuse, you don’t want him knowing where you live.

Arthur had gone quiet after that, a look of almost anger on his face.

You had stayed quiet too, not wanting to poke the bear. And after a second, he was pulling you towards him and leading you to his car.

You panicked, struggling against his grip on your forearm. “Get in the fucking car, [Name].” He’d almost growled the words, “You fucking wanted this.”

“Let go of me!”

“You accepted in the first place, now you’re not going to give me what you owe?”

“I don’t owe you anything, let go!” You cried out, his grip was painful now and he was trying to shove your body into his car by force.

You were tearing up, your breath catching in panic, you were getting weaker and he was still shoving.

Suddenly, all the weight had been thrown off of you. Your wrist now free, and the presence of Arthur gone out of thin air.

“Your parents ever teach you not to lay a hand on a woman?”

You spun around to be greeted with sight of Spiderman wrapping Arthur in webs.

He docked him in the jaw as he tried to talk back. Arthur groaning heavily.

“Oh, guess not.”

“Fuck you, man. The girl wanted it.”

“Didn’t look that way to me, homeboy.”

Arthur glared up at him then turned to you, “You wanted it. Didn’t you?” It was phrased more as a threat than a statement.

“I—“

“Whoopsie.”

A web shot out and covered Arthur’s mouth, his eyes widening in panic as he tried to scream through it.

“Slip of the finger.”

He picked Arthur up and threw him to a wall, shooting a web at him as he went to stick him to it. The impact on his head swiftly knocking him unconscious, probably concussed.

You stood in shock, not really able to process the sight in front of you when Spiderman turned back, suddenly a lot less collected and a lot more worried.

He moved quickly over to you, raising on hand to caress your injured arm and one to your cheeks, the eyes of his mask downturning in fear.

“Hey-. Hey, hey look at me.”

You did, the tears in your eyes finally falling as the situation truly dawned on you. Your lip trembled. “Oh, [Name], you’re okay, i’ve got you.”

“Spidey—“ You shivered a little in his hold. His arm snaking down from yours to holding you close to him. The other continued to rub circles into your tear-stained cheeks. “—Come here, Chiquita.”

You hadn’t even noticed the names, your name, falling from his lips. You had only registered the immediate feeling of comfort around him. Unlike the feeling of fear, primality, around Arthur. Spidey had felt more like safety, like someone you could call a lifelong friend.

He grabbed you by your waist, talking you through it the whole time.

“I’m gonna touch your waist now, that okay?” “Mhmm..” “Okay, wrap your legs around me when I pick you up, yeah?”

Humming your affirmation, you wrapped your legs around his waist while he carried the whole weight of you in one hand, spread out on the low of your back. The touch sending the first pleasant tingle of your whole night through the tips of his gloved fingers.

“Let me take you home, querida.”

Miles’s eyes squinted in the pitiful sight of you, this was his doing. If he had been there for you, this never would have happened. His paranoia for something bigger had outweighed his realistic worries. If he’s not in your life, who’s going to protect you?

The names of sweet kept tumbling out of him, making up for the weeks he’d been missing. God, even now, holding you to his chest while he swung you home. Your eyes closed and buried into his neck, ignoring the world around the both of you and finding safety in him. Even now, he’s felt better than he had in the last months.

His feet landed softly on your fire escape, the soft thud of the metal a welcomed thought. Or, maybe it was being home again, either one.

Spiderman’s right hand slid under your bedroom window, opening it slow enough as to not wake your parents.

“We’re home, [Name].”

He climbed through the indie with you in tow, leaving it open slightly as you began to undress. He turned around quickly while you put on a large shirt and sleep shorts. Trying graciously to avoid watching you through the reflection of the window.

Once you were finished, he turned around and went to grab the makeup wipes from your dresser. You giving him a quizzical look he ignored.

You sat down on the bed with your legs crossed and he followed, your knees brushing one another.

“Close your eyes.”

You did, letting him softly wipe away any makeup you had put on for the night. You sighed in content, and absurdity. What was the likely hood of your date going so horribly wrong, then being saved and comforted by Brooklyns best vigilante. Then having that very same vigilante sit in your bed and wipe the tear streaked makeup from your cheeks.

“There you go.”

You opened your eyes again, seeing his hooded face so close to yours it made your heart beat.

“Thank you.”

He leaned back, suddenly seeming nervous.

“Hey, I—,“ He stopped and breathed in deep, “,—I need to tell you something.” He sounded conflicted, scared.

Why would a crime-fighting spider be scared of you?

“Yeah, of course. Anything.”

He sucked in another breath, quicker this time. And reached up to the bottom of his mask so fast you almost missed it. He pulled it off quickly, panicky. Leaving you to stare at the soft, plush lips and Hazel eyes that could only ever replicate the fall of an autumn leaf. Or the cinnamon dusted on the baking you would do with your mother.

Miles Morales stared back at you.

“I’m spiderman!” He laughed nervously. Picking at the fabric of his hood.

He looked back up at you and sighed, a smile playing on his lips at your dumbfounded expression.

“What the hell.”

“Mi vida, listen.”

“What the actual hell.”

He dropped his mask and gathered your hands in his. Holding them against one another.

“[Name].”

“You’re Spiderman.”

“I know, baby, I know.”

You looked up at his, he was closed again. Glancing at your lips every now and again. “Miles..” You pouted at him, almost crying his name. His chest aches for you. A thick guilt rendered his voice useless, a longing for you mixing into it.

“Is this why-“ You broke eye contact. “—Is this why you’ve been ignoring me?” You whispered it, like you didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

His fingers twitched against yours, squeezing your palm and rubbing his thumbpad over the juncture between your thumb and forefinger.

“Oh, cielo.” He let out a shaky breath. Saying the term in a quaking sigh.

He watched you watch him, your glassy eyes telling him all the hurt you’ve been through.

“Baby I didn’t mean—“ He shook his head, “I didn’t mean to ignore you. I was worried that some bad people would find out I—“ He stuttered, focusing on your intwined hands once again. “I cared for you, and they would use that, use you against me.”

“I never wanted you hurt, I just wanted you safe.”

You let another set of tears fall, the relief soothing the ache of stress in your shoulders, you were still mad at him, sure. And not only for ignoring you. But for keeping such a big secret to himself. But god, you were so happy he was back.

“It wasn’t because of you, cielo. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“You could never hurt me.”

“I’m dangerous, [Name].”

He looked back up to you in earnest, desperation and fear clouding his eyes foggy.

“You’re worth the risk.”

“God,” his breathing was heavy, deep. “,You’re making this real hard for me, baby.”

“Good.”

“Jesus christ.”

He surged forwards, using your joined hands as leverage as he pulled you closer into him.

He stopped just short of your lips, breath escaping you at the sight of him, looking as gorgeous as ever. Even with his hair in a mess and smelling like baby powder. “Please let me kiss you.” The man was near begging, desperation of a different kind now.

“Okay.”

He closed the distance, letting your eyes fall shut at the feeling. You never had felt more perfectly at peace than you had right now.

His hands let go of yours, moving up your body and landing on your hips. He shifted his weight onto his knees, leaning over you as you lowered back. You broke apart, panting heavy and laboured, “I’m still mad at you.”

“I’ll make it up to you.” He peppered you with short kissed. You’re back hitting the bed and him crowding over you, trailing kisses from your lips, to cheeks, to just below your jawline. You giggled lightly, his kisses tickling.

“‘M gonna hold you to that.”

He grinned up at you, slotting himself neatly between your legs. His right hand propping himself up beside you head, and left finding any bit of you he could hold.

“I don’t doubt it.”

He kissed you again.

—

okay maybe i lied this is also kind of long

BUT AWE 🫶🫶🫶

[realcube]

ENTRY #171 iida x reader

synopsis ✎ a lasting moment with iida tenya

tws/tags ✎ first part is midoriya pov, medical equitment & nosy ppl!!!

a/n ✎ request for @ladycoleigh

ENTRY #171

name → (y/n) (l/n)

class → 1-A

quirk → hydrokinesis

appearance → athletic, short hair, tomboyish

note #1 → i was introduced to (l/n) before but i didn't make an entry about them because i didn't fully understand their quirk. it was only revealed during the UA sports festival that they have the ability to manipulate water. we saw it during their fight with todoroki.

extras →

↳ quirk can maybe extend to cryokinesis ; tbc

↳ they can manipulate water created by todoroki

↳ they were very unwell and faint after the sports festival so i assume the reason they don't use their quirk often is because it's very taxing

↳ quirk might be related to visibility or sight. i saw them make prolonged eye-contact with iida tenya (see entry #133 for more details on iida tenya) and i suspect that they were trying to use th

deku's frantic skribbling with interupted by iida's voice, accompanied by violent chopping hand motions. "i don't appreciate you writing about me in your journal, midoriya!"

he looks up at the stern boy with furrowed boys, and hastily slams his book shut and stuffs it away into his bag, "what i write in my own journal is personal to me, so i don't appreciate you reading it over my shoulder."

iida's expression settles into one less agitated, and more so inquisitive, "how is my interaction with (l/n) at the sports festival apart of your 'personal' meanderings?"

"because i think the whole staring thing that you guys were doing might be apart of their quirk!" he explains excitedly, ready to share his theories with his friends, until iida's rapid air chopping resumes as he shakes his head rapidly, cheeks ablaze with flustered fury.

"there was no such staring! i don't know what you are talking about, midoriya. we looked at each other for a normal amount of time."

midoriya rolls his eyes, "maybe a normal amount of time for a couple of statues." he holds his eyes open wide with his fingers to emphasise his point, and iida simply tuts, recollecting on the event.

the had long since wheeled you away from the sports day stadium after you fainted. many of his classmates and participants reamined there for celebrations a while after the event ended, but he was quick to follow the emergency crew where ever they were taking you.

as the class rep, he felt it was his duty to check up on you and make sure you were doing well, and he's glad he did because as he made his way back onto the school premises, he encountered crowds of interviewers and press darting through the halls, banging on doors and causing general disorder in search of you.

he, midoriya and several teachers aided in dissipating the horde, and it was almost working, until the healing staff happened to wheel you passed —in a stretcher —the particular hallway all of them were congregated in.

all of sudden, it was an onslaught of screamed questions, waving microphones and flashing cameras. but even admist the chaos, iida turned around to look at you, and you both locked eyes. for what was only a moment but felt like an eternity.

his heart skipped a beat in his chest when he saw you fly by , your mystifiying eyes penetrating into his soul in a way that he's never experienced before. it's as though you slipped right past all of his defences, and hit him in the most tender part of his heart. so sweet, so stunning, he couldn't help but think to himself.

all of that was short-lived though, as you had been rushed out of sight before either of you could even process what had just happened.

needless to say, midoriya wasn't the only one whose thoughts you have been haunting.

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Best and worst of both worlds (part 2)

Tw: vomit , drunk, religious stuff, breakinf sum bones

Ok maybe monty may seem out of character here but trust me its cause reader is more cringe fail than he is so hes mothering by default, but if ur the more assertive type like a newyorker, hes defo getting pegged

part 3

You studied too hard and studied too long. The sky is now dark and the only people around are those who are handing their assignment at the last minute. Luckily, the library opens for 24 hours.

But it's time to go home, it will take a 45-minute bus ride to your house, shared with seven other housemates. At least you get your own four walls around your room, albeit thin.

You have your back hunched as you struggle to carry an elephant's worth in the weight of study materials. Grunting and grumbling as you stomped to your bus stop.

The bus pulled over, you slung the backpack over your back again and huffed. You were prepared to enter, but you had to hop backwards because a rather large man, came tumbling down the exit stairs.

He was doing so well, but he came crumbling down when his foot slipped.

He tried his best to push himself off, but to no avail because he was that drunk. So you announced that you're going to help him before grabbing him by the ankles. You think you yanked on him too hard, because he groaned in pain as his head hits the concrete ground.

You pulled him to the side to the best you can, so you could board the bus- hey!

The bus drove off in a hurry. You tried chasing and flagging it down, but it wouldn't stop and it didn't care.

You sigh. Looks like you have to wait for another one.

You returned to the bus stop to see that he was lying on his back. His shaggy brown hair covering his eyes.

You sat on the bench, staring at the unconscious man in front of you.

Feeling frustrated, you stood up and kicked him on the leg. He made you miss your bus!

But you immediately regretted it because he started vomiting, and choking on his own sick. His body was convulsing and you heard painful gurgling sounds from him.

You let out a brief scream before pacing back and forth, panicking on what to do.

Then you remembered that one first aid class that you took.

You didn't lay him on his side. You didn't call emergency services, you didn't do the Heimlich maneuver.

You end up doing a bastardized version of CPR, where you put your entire body weight and your backpack onto his ribs. Using your foot, stomping on him like a bike tyre pump.

You heard a sickening crack, but it worked. A fountain of vomit sprayed to the top, showering you and him in it.

Yuck! You whined and spit.

You flicked away as much as you can. Now he's coughing and sputtering, but at least he's breathing. And conscious.

His bloodshot eyes opened and stared at you. You can't tell if he's grateful that you saved him or offended that you broke a rib of his. Maybe a mix of both.

"I-it..." He wheezed. "...Hurts..." He rasped.

You begin to panic again, but this time it lead you to calling the ambulance.

"No... please. I..." He gulped. "I... can't afford it."

Your eyes darted between him and the phone. You should have paid more attention to your ethics class, because you don't want him to die, but you don't want to put him in crippling debt.

You only dialed the number, you haven't called it yet.

You told him that he's going to die.

He chuckled bitterly. "When... has anyone ever cared...?" The stranger slurred.

You said you did. You didn't want him to die, at least not in front of you, and the next bus is arriving an hour later.

"You... care?" Something glimmered in his eyes. He seem to have selective hearing.

You start to cry, ranting in between sobs that you just wanted to go home and have a nice bowl of instant noodles, as that's the only thing you could afford for now. You wanted more time to study for your midterms and you're just a University student, you don't deserve to face this weird, traumatic dilemma. You complained that your bag is heavy and your back hurts, you reek of his vomit and do not want to wait with a corpse.

He must be sobering up, because he looked concerned for your mental health. The man probably didn't understand whatever you're going through, you thought that he had it worse. But you didn't care, you needed someone to talk to, and this near death drunk man is your perfect victim. He probably wouldn't remember you in the morning anyways.

You concluded that you had a long week, you just want to go home, clean up and rest too. You simply want to get through the hour without him dying before your eyes.

There was a pregnant pause between you and him.

Finally, you heard some shuffling, shadows from that man shifting slowly as he tried to get up in agony. He cradled his heavily bruised side, you couldn't see its severe discolouration because it was concealed under his puke-stained clothes.

You instinctively hover your arms around him, readying yourself to catch the man if he falls. To him, it only solidifies that you truly do care.

"I'm okay, I promise." He coughed into his fist. "I won't be dyin' tonight."

You wiped the last of your tears and nodded. You put your phone away and sat down on the bench.

He sat a distance away from you. Understanding that you would want your space.

The man slumped his head against the side, closing his eyes, fighting the nausea and trying to ignore the throbbing pain under his chest.

He was shaken awake by you, screaming bloody murder his ear. Each time you yank him back and forth, the stabbing pain in his ribs worsened.

He hissed in pain as you shook him like a cocktail mixer.

"I'm alive! I-I'm alive, stop shaking me!"

You let him go and his head hits the wall of the shelter with a thud.

He groaned as he now cradles his head.

You apologized for breaking his rib and shaking him.

"H-hey, it's okay. I'm fine, don't cry, don't cry. Shhh..." He tried to console you by stroking your forearm.

You began mumbling about how the bus is taking so long and it feels like the world is against you. The embarrassment you faced today is indescribable, your cringiest moments are going to keep you up at night, make you lose sleep and force you to fail your exams.

You blabber nonsense, things that you always kept to yourself came spilling out just because you think this man isn't going to remember.

"Hey, h-hey." He tried getting your attention, but you continued rambling your inner demons away.

He sighed and slumped back down, watching you vent to your heart's content.

He waited. Eventually though, you stopped. Because you ran out of steam.

You checked the time. You still have 20 minutes to go until the bus arrives.

You're still visibly agitated and jumpy to him, clearly needing more comfort now. The roads are barren and if it wasn't for this one singular lamp post, you wouldn't be able to see anything around you.

"Hey, hey, look at me." You snapped your head to him.

"It's going to be fine, sweetheart." He smiled. "I'm still here."

He felt relieved when he saw the tension in your shoulders disappear. You sat back down and swung your legs back and forth, most likely to expel more anxious energy that's built up inside.

"What's your name?" He asked.

You tensed up again, not trusting him, you decided to come up with a fake name on the spot. Admittedly, you're not very good at performing under stress and time restraint.

"Your name is... Joe M.?"

You had to physically bite back the urge to complete the joke. So you squeaked a confirmation with the corners of your lips curled up suspiciously.

He must have picked up that you might not be entirely truthful. Because he stared at you for a bit before replying.

"My name is Montgomery. You can call me Monty if ya' want." You nodded and promptly forgot about his name. It's not like you're going to ever meet him again.

"So... you go to the university 'round here?"

You immediately denied it.

"Alrighty then." He took that as a hint that you didn't want to disclose more information about yourself. Because he can clearly see the massive University logo plastered on your soiled hoodie.

A blanket of silence drapes itself onto you and him.

"You wanna say a prayer with me?" He asked out of the blue.

You hesitantly agreed.

He closed his eyes and began.

"Dear Heavenly Father..."

You zoned out as he proceeded to have a lengthy conversation with god. Appreciating the things around him, your presence and to have a roof over his head; literally. He prays that you reach home safe and sound, and that your stresses will pass- among other things.

Regardless of whether you're religious or not, you found his words of faith comforting. Almost like a bubble of protection around the entire bus stop.

"...In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen."

Amen, indeed.

As soon as he ended it, the bus arrived. You hurriedly gathered your items and rushed to the doors.

You said your goodbyes, apologies and thanks.

He gave you a weak wave. "Have a good night, and take it easy, okay honey? You're gonna be fine."

You nodded before climbing the steps.

Montgomery watches the bus leave. Sighing because he was supposed to get on it too. Well, he can always walk home.

Painfully.

[hillbillyoracle]

I would LOVE a post on putting together first aid kits, I always read about it and get overwhelmed and short out so maybe if someone whose writing I already know i can parse explains it I'll actually finish putting mine together :|

I might go one to write something more involved later but I thought I'd jot down my initial thoughts here.

--

Let me preface all of this by saying I don't have extensive medical training. I got my CNA license like a decade ago and used to be certified for basic search and rescue. So take all of this with a grain of salt and cross reference with other sources.

First Aid Kit supplies tend to fall into a few categories:

Supplies that help you get someone to emergency care

Supplies that help you get someone to primary care

Supplies that help you self treat without seeking care

All of these categories can go pretty deep and it's easy to get overwhelmed. Don't let perfect be the enemy of the good.

Supplies in each category can be helpful in other categories. I've just grouped them according to their primary use case in my personal kits.

Getting Someone to Emergency Care

The most important aspect of responding to an emergency is knowledge so keeping an updated First Aid/CPR certification is ideal even if you don't need it for work or another position.

If you can't make it to a class, the Red Cross has a first aid app that you can download and review. While 911 can guide you how to respond to some emergencies over the phone, it's always helps to be familiar with best practices beforehand.

Aside from that a lot of supplies can be on the more expensive side.

Some supplies I included in some of my kits:

Tourniquet

SAM splints + medical tape

Quick Clot (cloth, not powder)

Trauma Sheers

Steri-strips

Aspirin

If you don't have the money for these supplies, don't fret. Cheaper things that would be helpful in similar situations would be

ace bandages (improvised tourniquet)

safety pins (improvised sling)

washcloths and hand towels (to aid compression)

Getting Someone to Primary Care

Though depending on where you live and how the health care system works these could overlap with getting someone to urgent care (step below emergency care).

The import part of this category is twofold - you need information to give a primary care/urgent care physician to help diagnose and treat and you need to keep someone comfortable/from getting worse.

Keep a Record

If you take nothing else from this post, it's this - take notes. The format is simple - date, time, observation. Don't worry if you observation is "dumb" or you don't know the right words; any changes you think could be noteworthy, write down.

Take it with you when you or the person you're caring for goes in to be seen. Jot down a brief summary of the visit (name of facility, name of provider, symptoms discussed, diagnosis, differential diagnosis, plan of care/follow up) in case you need to seek care with a different physician (specialist, ER, etc).

Taking Vitals

Ideally, you'll want to be able to check a person's vitals. So these pieces of equipment can help:

Thermometer*

Pulse Oximeter

Automatic blood pressure cuff

While I recommend all of this, if you can only get one of these, I'd pick an oral thermometer personally since it's very difficult to tell the difference between different stages of a fever with your hand alone and can be found for pretty cheap. Be sure to wash it off after each use so as not to spread gems.

If you can't purchase the others, make sure you know how to take a pulse accurately, count respirations, and know the signs of low oxygen and blood pressure issues.

Keeping Someone Comfortable

This greatly depends on what a person is experiencing, but in general you'll want to fill what you can of these:

Painkiller

Fever reducer

Anti-histamine

Cough suppressant

Rash cream

Sleep support

I cannot recommend specific ones for each category since everyone has such specific needs. If you're concerned about picking the right ones for you, your doctor can make recommendations.

Fluids and rest are generally helpful in keeping someone comfortable and stable.

Treating Someone at Home

This is where the band-aids live. Most of what people think of when they think first-aid tend to be things in this category.

This is also one of the most difficult ones to give specifics on because people vary in their needs so widely. What might be a fairly common occurrence for me might be rare for you and vice versa.

So instead of theorizing what you might need, I'll talk about what I have in mine. Hopefully seeing my thought process helps you.

Bandages

When bandaging a wound, you need to clean it and then put on an absorbent layer and a cover to keep out debris.

I use alcohol pads to clean wounds and band-aids (since they are absorbent layer and cover in one) for small wounds. Most cuts and scraps only need this.

For larger wounds I keep some gauze pads and cohesive wrap to cut to size.

Ointments

Some wounds need further treatment. Some things need treatment to prevent them becoming wounds.

I keep triple antibiotic to put on wounds that are at a higher risk for becoming or have become infected.

I keep sting relief pads for insect stings and bites to prevent me scratching at them into wounds.

I keep burn gel for burns (including sunburns).

I keep hydrocortisone and calamine lotion for rashes.

I keep lavender balm for sleep/muscle tension and muscle balm for muscle strains.

For Blisters

This gets it own little section in each of my kits since I get blisters pretty often. Remember folks, the sooner you catch a hotspot or blister, the easier it is to treat.

I keep hydrocolloid bandages for blisters and athletic tape for hot spots. A lot of them.

If they open, then they're effectively a wound and I treat them similarly. But generally I try to prevent that.

Miscellaneous

I keep a tick remover (card style) because I find it easier than tweezers (though I have those too).

I keep instant cold compress packs - especially in our "sport" kit that's in the car my partner takes to her full contact sport. Her most common injuries have been jammed fingers and nail bent back - cold packs are great for both. They're also great for treating heat exhaustion, especially when you're away from a building with good AC.

In a similar vein, I specifically have several finger SAM splints coming in for that kit.

Gloves. Seriously they're so useful, I use them all the time. Dying my hair, chopping up spicy peppers, using cleaning products that might make me break out, keeping my hand clean for treating a wound, sexy times - they're good for all sorts of things.

12cc syringe in our sport kit for filling with water and flushing out bigger wounds (like scrapes from falls) away from home.

I'm probably forgetting some other things but I think this covers most of it.

Conclusion

I know this is a lot. There's no need to go out and get things all at once.

I started collecting supplies slowly when I was in college. I just established a box as my first aid kit and decided it would always live under my bathroom sink. When stuff came up, I grabbed supplies for it and then kept the extras (throwing out the medications as they expired).

If you make a list for yourself, you can grab things proactively when you have a little left over in your budget or they're on sale. Prioritize things based on what you think you're most likely to use.

Need to start small? A box of bandages, oral thermometer, painkiller/fever reducer, and an antihistamine are better than nothing and a great start to build on once you have more resources.

I hope this helps someone out!

[hyuge]

Life Alert

First aid training was not a required life skill, but it was highly recommended. Shinsou saw an ad in a brochure for a CPR class and decided that while he believed he would be fine in an emergency, it would probably be best to ensure he knew what he was doing. He went online to the community website to get registered for the class. After one two-hour session with local paramedics, he would be a certified CPR specialist.

Maybe not a specialist, but if anyone ever stopped breathing, he would be prepared to help them.

He was a little surprised to see how many people turned up to the class for a Tuesday evening in the middle of winter. There were about a dozen other students of varying ages and three uniform-clad paramedics present to lead them through the training. CPR dummies were laid out on mats on the floor, and everyone was asked to take a seat next to the dummies. The paramedics introduced themselves as Kendou, Monoma, and Tetsutetsu.

They were paired up with two people per dummy, and then each paramedic took two teams. Shinsou’s dummy partner introduced herself as Shiazaki. He mumbled a greeting and carded his hand through his long purple locks. The one called Monoma knelt in front of Shinsou and Shiazaki, along with the other pair seated beside them.

Monoma seemed loud to say the least, though that didn’t mean much in comparison to his silver-haired coworker. Kendou seemed to reel them both in, to some extent. Monoma instructed with very expressive hand gestures as he went over the basics of CPR to their group.

“When do we administer CPR?” he asked.

Shiazaki raised her hand. It was small and delicate, not a single callus to be seen. Monoma nodded at her. His slate-blue eyes fixated on her, though there was a look of disinterest on his face. “When someone stops breathing.”

Monoma’s head bobbed slowly with a nod. “And when else?” He turned his gaze on Shinsou.

“When their heart stops?”

“Is that a question?”

“No,” said Shinsou.

Something about this Monoma guy kind of irked him but in a ‘he’s hot but also annoying,’ sort of way. His straight, blond hair swept across his forehead in an effortlessly well-groomed manner. His uniform was pristine—though that was likely because of paramedic regulations—and those bright eyes seemed to bore deep into Shinsou’s soul. It would take Shinsou a minimum of one hour to get his hair that presentable. He gave up on putting effort into it years ago. Now, he always looked as if he was five minutes post-wakeup.

“First and foremost,” Monoma continued, “you or someone else in the area needs to call emergency services and make sure the scene is safe for administering CPR. Only then should you proceed. Make sure the injured party is lying flat on their back. You can’t do compressions just anywhere. You need to find the center of their chest and place the heel of your dominant hand over the back of the other hand.”

Monoma pointed at the dummy and Shinsou shifted his body so that he was sitting on his knees. He put his left hand down on the dummy’s chest first, between the nipples, then set his right hand on top.

“Chest compressions can be exhausting. You need to push hard and push down at about 100 to 120 beats per minute but also make sure that the chest rises in between compressions.”

“How many times do you do it before giving mouth-to-mouth?” asked Shiazaki.

Monoma narrowed his gaze at her. “You don’t.”

Shinsou cocked a brow and looked up at Monoma from his spot over the dummy’s chest. “What?”

“It is no longer recommended that civilians give patients mouth-to-mouth. It takes away precious time that should be spent on chest compressions and spreads germs. Mouth-to-mouth also deters bystanders from providing aid.”

“What if they drowned?” asked Shinsou.

“Then you can. If the person in need is injured due to loss of air rather than heart failure, that is the only time it is recommended to administer mouth-to-mouth.”

Interesting.

“Now,” Monoma continued, “begin chest compressions. I want you to count each compression aloud.”

Shinsou did as instructed. He leaned over the dummy and began to do compressions, counting aloud in time with each thrust. There was a tsk, and he looked up to see Monoma’s eyes fixed on him. “Something wrong?”

Monoma nods. “Do you mind?”

Shinsou eyed him, then shrugged. “Sure.”

Monoma leaned over Shinsou; his chest pressed firmly against Shinsou’s back. His arms slid down in place beside Shinsou, and warmth radiated where they touched. Monoma placed his hands on top of Shinsou’s and breathed against his ear as he spoke. “You gotta push harder and slower.” Oh. Boy, Shinsou’s face heated at that. He was glad Monoma was behind him so that he couldn’t see the color bloom on his cheeks. “Count with me. One… Two… Three…”

And he did. With Monoma’s hands on his hands, he did the compressions harder and slower, pumping life back into the dummy. His voice vibrated in Shinsou’s ear, and it was harder and harder to focus on the CPR he was supposed to be learning. When the weight finally left his back, Shinsou was filled with disappointment, but he continued the compressions as instructed. Monoma moved to assist Shiazaki, but Shinsou noted how he did not wrap himself around her like he did with Shinsou.

Was he just that bad at it or was there another reason? He tried not to focus on it. Shinsou’s eyes scanned the room, watching as everyone else practiced. He didn’t see any of the other paramedics get that close and personal with their instruction. Odd. His arms grew tired from the compressions. “Is it okay to stop now?”

Monoma inspected him for a moment, then nodded. “We’ll move onto mouth-to-mouth now.”

“I thought—”

“While it is not recommended to do it for CPR, it’s still good knowledge to have.”

The rest of the class went by rather quickly and by the end of it, Shinsou was handed a small card with his name written on it stating he had passed the CPR safety course. He thanked Kendou as she handed it to him with a smile. She gave a simple, “No problem,” then moved on to the next student. Shinsou made his way to the door to leave, then hesitated. Tetsutetsu was cleaning up the supplies and Monoma was at the door saying goodbye to everyone as they left.

Shinsou bit his lip. He wasn’t usually this forward (or ambitious), but something needled its way into the back of his head that egged him to do the unthinkable. He cleared his throat, and Monoma lifted his gaze to him. “Did you need something?” asked Monoma.

Shinsou parted his lips, wetting them before speaking. “I, um—I was wondering if you wanted to get a drink sometime? Or something. It doesn’t have to be drinks,” he added with uncertainty.

Whatever Monoma was thinking, his face kept hidden. Shinsou was not a fan of the fact that he couldn’t read him. “Like a date?” he asked carefully.

Shinsou nodded. “Yeah. I just—I thought I felt something earlier. Sorry if I misunderstood.” He moved to leave, but an arm extended in front of him, blocking the doorway.

“Phone.”

“What?” Shinsou blinked.

“Your phone,” said Monoma with a smile. “So, I can put my number in.”

Oh.

“Here.” Shinsou pulled his phone out of his pocket and held it out. Monoma was quick to enter his number and then hand it back.

“I’m free on Sunday.”

Shinsou felt his cheeks warm once more. “Then it’s a date.”

Thank you for reading! You can download the zine for free! ~ Also consider popping over to AO3 to drop a kudos if you liked it. 💕

[dresden-syndrome]

I Saw the ask of someone wondering what happened if any of the lab rats got sick but, what about the pets? Maybe they caught something nasty from lying on the cold floor, maybe a would got infected and now thei're nauseous and miserable, what would happen to them?

🍁 Class 4 subjects designated as "personal property" (i.e. pets) can only be treated in class-appropriate ASR facilities and class 4 detention unit medical offices.

🍁 ASR works with pets as well as with usual subjects, providing special cells, uniforms and approved treatment options. Every examination or treatment action can be viewed and controlled by the pet's owner. The owner and their bodyguards/trusted subordinates have the right to stay with their pets and watch the entire process, as well as help with restraining, muzzling and (optional) comforting. Any action conducted without owner's approval may result in unfortunate consequences for the staff - why risk it?

🍁 An owner can also allow ASR personnel to experiment on their pet; in that case, every test option is explained and discussed before they agree to it. If the researchers want an additional experiment, they will wait for the owner's approval before carrying it on.

🍁 Pet treatment quality can be even higher than an average citizen's treatment in a clinic or hospital despite pets themselves not being considered "people" or deemed any more worthy than an average subject: their owners are in highest ranks and positions of EESU government - anybody would do their best to earn their approval!

🍁 Pets can be also admitted to ASR for regular health checks and consultations, with all results and recommendations given to the owner and added to the pet's subject files. They also can be left there when the owner has to go abroad or be away in a place that doesn't allow class 4 subjects there.

🍁 Class 4 detention units work with pets like normal doctor's offices; they don't provide cells, uniforms, detailed examinations or complex treatments - they're used for first aid or brief consultations. If conditions worsen or a pet is in need of further treatment, they get sent to local ASR lab.

🍁 In case of an emergency they may be treated by a specialist from government elites' hospital with a high enough security clearance level, if the owner considers a pet valuable and treatable enough to be saved.

Thank you for asking!! Really, y'all comrades getting interested in the worldbuilding is one of the best things I can open tumblr for <3✨

[sygneth]

Y'know how Harry canonically took Building Safety/Inspection as part of his RCM training (I hc that Kim took First Aid or something similar)? What classes/skills do you think Jean (or anybody else in C-wing if you have any hcs for Judit, Chester or Mack) took?

Huh, that's a tough one, took me a while to sort it all out, but good, I like questions that make me think!

Honestly, my first thought when thinking of Jean was "fire safety", can't even explain why? Somehow I just see him going around rambling something about fire regulations and how nobody in the whole Jamrock gives a fuck and one day all will burn and maybe then people would start thinking about it. (I also hc him being in the Searchlight Division before switching to Criminal.) OR! Another thought here are search-and-rescue operations, searching for people/bodies in collapsed buildings, forests, swamps, etc. I dunno, he just feels like someone who likes to look for more.

And I totally agree with Kim taking First Aid, it just makes sense.

I imagine Judit going into something more social maybe? Idk if that would make any sense or what exactly that could be, something like mediations and such? Generally, I feel like RCM is a weird mashup of police, fire department, and maybe a bit of emergency medical services? So what I have in mind here is some sort of specialization that teaches you how to talk to a person who wants to attempt suicide, or someone having a panic attack, someone who holds others hostage, etc. This is very much just a hc though.

Mack would totally go for something like combat or terrorist prevention or such. and Chester, hmmm. He is the kind of a guy to go for "whatever is the easiest to pass" thing, so whatever he chose, probably didn't pay much attention to it either way lol. I think it could be something technical though, maybe buildings as well? I'm very curious of your opinion as well if you have any hc for others (or if mine adds up to yours). :D

[whumpshaped]

Chapter 4: Emergency

Silence Masterlist

trigger warnings: institutionalised/normalised pet whump, it/its used as the default for pets, environmental whump, unwanted rescue, noncon undressing (to treat potential hypothermia), collar assumed to have been taken away forever, sick whumpee, morally dubious caretaker, past trauma, corruption

Rayan didn't bring up the doctor again, or the offer for Sil to join him in his house. Instead he brought it little pieces of the much dreaded inside, sweaters, blankets, warm drinks and soup, trying to coax it further out of its shell. He spent their limited time together talking to it, asking how it was feeling, in Sil’s words, ‘pretending it was a person’. At this point, Rayan was pretty certain that its owner was just an all around horrible person. In what world were pets undeserving of a few words of comfort? Well… in Sil’s world, apparently.

It had been easy to forget how cold it was really getting while bundled up in warm coats himself, thinking maybe slow and steady was eventually going to win the race. It had been easy to forget that time was very much of the essence, and one day, he woke up to white skies and snow-covered rooftops.

Rayan didn’t immediately register the implications of that. Once again, he was cosy under the blankets, with soft pyjamas and fuzzy socks on his feet. He was still stretching and rolling this way and that when suddenly, something clicked in his head. Sil.

He had never put on clothes quicker than he did that morning. He ran outside with his coat half open, racing to the dumpster that was now all white and icy - and behind it, there it was. Poor, shivering Sil, curled up into the tightest ball of misery and borrowed sweaters. It had made itself a little nest with all the fabric Rayan had previously brought it, but it did very little to keep out the winter chill.

“Oh, Sil…” He swallowed and looked around, cursing himself for being so careless. He should’ve been looking at the weather forecast religiously. He should’ve been more stern! He should’ve just brought Sil inside when it had begun to get so cold, instead of waiting around to gain its trust so fully. No, he was stupider than that - he was trying to wait until it asked to be let inside. Sil was never going to ask. He’d thought he was giving it space, but he was doing nothing but letting it turn into a betrayal-flavoured popsicle.

He scooped up the shivering thing into his arms carefully, his heart breaking further when Sil didn’t even have the energy to push him away. It groaned quietly, murmuring something that was most likely a protest, but other than that, it seemed to cling more than it was trying to get away.

Rayan walked all the way back to his home and set it down on the couch, biting his lip as he thought back to his first-aid classes and the fact that he was going to have to undress Sil. He had tried his best to respect its boundaries, but this just wasn’t the time to agonise over that. Maybe Sil would hate his guts forever, but god, he just wanted to make sure it would be around to do that.

He carefully removed all of its wet clothes, piling them on the floor. Upon reaching the collar, he hesitated. Sil had always been fiercely protective over it. He didn’t get it - he thought its owner was a bad person, someone deserving of their pet running away from them, but seeing Sil be so adamant on keeping it on, he didn’t know anymore. He’d tried to understand, but his questions only seemed to annoy the pet.

“You wanna take it away?”

“No, that’s not-”

“So stop asking. It’s none of your business whether I keep it on.”

He grabbed a clean towel and gently patted Sil down, then left the fluffy thing on top of it while he went to fetch some dry clothes. It felt strange to have a barely conscious pet on his couch, dressed in his own sweater and pants, but he couldn’t afford to just stand there and dissect the feeling. He ran back to the bedroom for extra blankets and draped those over it as well, just to be a hundred percent sure it wasn’t going to wake up to any sort of cold. Only then did he slip out the front door to retrieve the rest of the blankets from the snow, the ones he couldn’t immediately pick up along with Sil.

He considered calling emergency services. In truth, he barely had any idea what he was doing, only relying on something he’d learned in tenth grade along with his driver’s ed course. But he knew more about first-aid than Sil’s predicament. What if he was dooming it by calling them? Because honestly, nothing about this entire thing was adding up in his head.

First of all, how did the PPA not pick up on the abuse Sil had so clearly gone through? There were annual welfare checks for all the pets in Lezune, around the entire damn country, specifically to ensure that cases like this were prevented. But even if prevention failed, the PPA were supposed to pick up on bad situations and remove the pet immediately, revoke its owner’s licence, and make it as right as they possibly could. There was a chance that someone had inflicted all of these injuries upon the poor thing in less than the span of a year, before the first check-up was due, and Rayan actually hoped that was the case.

Because the other possibility was bribery. That was his first thought on the day that he’d met Sil, and while he’d tried to be understanding and go through the information he had with a clear head, he just kept coming back to the same conclusion. A regular owner would’ve long been jailed for severe neglect and abuse, but some people just had a way with… words. He supposed the money did most of the talking.

That would also explain why Sil hadn’t gone to the authorities to be checked into a shelter. Its chip would’ve been read, and its owner would’ve likely figured out a way to get it right back to the same abusive home it had escaped from, rendering all of its efforts useless.

Sil let out a pained moan, and Rayan was immediately by its side, kneeling next to the couch and waiting for any sort of request from the pet. “Sil? Uh, try not to freak out, okay? I brought you inside because of the cold, you’re in my living room. Do you need anything? A warm drink? Soup?”

“Where’s my collar…” it mumbled.

“Right next to us. Your clothes are here too. I’m gonna wash everything for you, okay?”

“No!” its eyes snapped open fully, and it turned to Rayan with the most panicked expression he’d ever seen. “No, n-no, please, I need it, please, don’t touch my clothes… please give back my collar, please…”

“Hey, hey, calm down-”

“I need it, it’s all I have, please, give it back!” Sil tried to push itself up, immediately failing with the weight of all those blankets on top of it. Rayan gently pushed it back down onto the couch, hushing it.

“I’ll give it back. I’ll give it back right now, okay? I’ll put it right next to you, but please, don’t put it back on. It’s all wet and dirty.”

“Just give it back,” it repeated brokenly, and Rayan quickly snatched it up from the floor and laid it right next to its face. Sil seemed to calm down considerably at that, scooting over so it could press its cheek against the leather. It closed its eyes again, breathing a sigh of relief.

“I’m sorry I took it without asking,” Rayan said softly as he sat back down on the floor. “I was just trying to get all the wet stuff off of you, so you wouldn’t get sick.”

“Please don’t take my clothes…” It looked at Rayan pleadingly, and he just didn’t have the heart to say no. He could’ve - he easily could’ve. Sil was defenceless and weak, it couldn’t even get up from the couch without assistance. He could’ve taken those clothes and ripped them apart right in front of it if he wanted to. He pushed all the horrible, intrusive thoughts away, almost tearing up at the fact that its previous owner might’ve done quite similar things to it.

“I won’t. I promise I won’t.”

Sil nodded in response, wincing as it tried to turn over and find a more comfortable position. Seeing that, a theory began to form in Rayan’s head as to why a runaway pet would just stay in one spot for weeks, aside from the free food. The constant walking and running it must’ve had to do was likely taking a toll on its battered body. That was probably why it had decided to put all its eggs in one Rayan-shaped basket… it didn’t have a choice anymore. Not with winter approaching.

He stayed right there until Sil drifted off, wondering how any pet could be so extremely loyal to an abusive owner. It was clearly so attached, Rayan couldn’t even imagine the emotional turmoil it must’ve caused it to run off. It must’ve been a life or death situation to push it over the edge. And for someone to take advantage of that devotion and love, that trust… He shook his head and got up, grabbing Sil’s clothes and bringing them to the closest possible radiator. Maybe they’d even fully dry by the time the pet woke up, and he could just place them back on the floor where they were without it noticing a single thing.

He tried to shake out the individual pieces as gently as he could so the sound wouldn’t wake Sil, but when he got to the pants, something fell out. Thankfully it landed on the carpet, so even though it seemed like a piece of metal, the noise was barely audible. He put the worn pair of slacks on the radiator and picked up the thing, realising with glee that it was a name tag. That was perfect! He could track who the owner was, he just had to read the-

Rayan deflated when he turned it around and saw that the engraving was too scratched up and faded to make out anything. He could see some digits of the facility number, and then a capital B… maybe that was supposed to be Sil’s name, then? It seemed too short to be its owner’s name. Plus, there was another name right under it, something that resembled his own much more closely. And lastly, maybe a phone number? He couldn’t even see the area code.

He sighed and put the trinket on top of the pants, so Sil could find it later; then he thought better of it and slipped it back into the pocket. He had the feeling Sil wouldn’t appreciate the fact that he’d tried to read it.

But didn’t it say that its owner refused to give it a name? So what was up with that pet name-looking row? Rayan walked back to the couch and sat down on the floor, pulling out his phone and looking up some of the biggest national news outlets, as well as some regional ones. Maybe someone had lost a pet recently. And maybe it was someone whose name fit perfectly into the blanks on that name tag.

~

taglist: @whumpsday @whump-queen @whump-blog @alexkolax @ha-ha-one @hidden-dreamland @looptheloup @batfacedliar-yetagain @oddsconvert @pinkraindropsfell @project-xiii

[smol-grey-tea]

✨ Nameless School Headcanons ✨

Lance

Lance is incredibly punctual and organised, owns multiple sets of the school uniform, one for every day of the week or something. Probably right down to the underwear-

His school bag is practically a brief case, everything sorted alphabetically and in colour order and etc

He enjoys being in the school government more than he will admit to other people. And he enjoyed being in the drama club's play way more than he'll admit to himself

Yeonho

Yeonho's favourite subject at school is art. It's not like it's easy, but it seems the most straight forward. Maths is too theoretical and involves things you don't even use in every day life; art is something you can see right in front of you. If Crobi Academy taught a cooking class tho, he'd definitely excel in that. Maybe there's a cooking club, or he could start one!

His school bag is a cute looking backpack and mostly just holds food and cookies. And maybe a colourful pencil case with stickers on it. Oh and also a lot of stuff that his fans gave him.

Yknow, his bag's full of a lot of things, mostly just random crap. A pair of socks. 2 different sets of house keys. Headphones. Deodorant. Bottle of water. Random junk.

^ I mostly say the above because of the fact that he sleeps on the couch, meaning that he doesn't have his own privacy. He would probably keep a lot of his belongings just...anywhere? Maybe a bunch of stuff under the couch, under/on the coffee table, etc. Poor guy. So if he wants to have private belongings, he might end up taking some of it to school with him in his bag, since there's not many other places to put it. Red might let Yeonho keep some things in his room tho

Actually makes a couple cool friends in the mystery club who are properly chill ppl he can talk to, who hype him up for asking Eri out

Yuri

I think if he'd been a student instead of a teacher, he'd struggle a lot. I think he's a guy who processes the world thru music/art, and really doesn't know how to express it thru words. So I think he'd definitely struggle with exams or anything that's based too much in writing, like languages or maths. He'd definitely be good at art tho

(Starting to think that these guys are either dyslexic or hyperlexic, with no in between. Lance and Tei being hyperlexic and Yeonho, Yuri, Red and Eri being dyslexic, with varying degrees of severity)

He carries his shit in one of them trolleys you can pull along everywhere. Music sheets, exams n stuff. Always writes w fancy fountain pens or smth, has rly nice n neat pretty handwriting. Is actually quite organised and feels cool having responsibility. Enjoys being a teacher more than he admits

He does really hate the canteen food tho

Tei

He would enjoy school a lot more if it weren't for the other students' behaviour. For the majority of the time, he finds the lessons kinda boring, like science and maths, while subjects like history and literature he'd excel at a lot more

Carries his shit in a brown messenger bag, kinda cute. Probably keeps pictures of Eri on his person at all times tho....... Kinda weird

But also, contrary to what you'd think, his bag also does tend to get full of random shit. Not cuz he's messy, but he likes to over prepare. Just cuz he's so much of a mom - his bag'll be full of some school work, but also emergency first aid kit, scissors, random ass suncream in the middle of winter, tissues, snacks, just anything really. What a man.

Red

The only one to actively search for friends, but with the least amount of social skills to support that desire. He would be absolutely killer at all sports tho, and people would do anything to get him on their team

Has too much energy, so pe is definitely his favourite subject, always placing first in every race, etc. He also enjoys art but not as much. He just hates subjects that are based too much in logic, too unnecessarily confusing for him n sound pretty useless

I think he either has a bag full of random crap - everything including footballs, chocolate and Power Rangers merch, excluding any school notes or homework - or, he literally just doesn't bring a bag at all. Tbh I rly can't decide. I remember when I was in high school I brought a 3d printed hippo w a top hat in my blazer everywhere, and in sixth form I brought a little plastic skeleton everywhere in my pocket. So even if he doesn't have a bag, I just can't get over the thought of him bringing a little action figure or even a little Hot Wheels with him in his pocket at all times. Playing with it when he's bored. Running the Hot Wheels all over his desk and over Tei's head everyday. Fucking cracks me up

Never does homework. Is like only 40% aware of what's happening in lessons at any given time

Eri

Honestly I think my only headcanon for her is that her bag is like a girly handbag type thing that you swing over your shoulder. I hate those type of bags.. But she'd have it

Also ( ͡❛ ₃ ͡❛) gonna go with a self projection kinda headcanon here and say that she actually was quite good at school until she turned like 14 and started having difficulty for 'no reason'. That she used to be the person that her classmates would ask for advice from but now can hardly pass the exams she used to ace. Sad times

[thereaderarchive]

A few thoughts on Snape, Slughorn (and a bit of James and Fleamont Potter).

Imagine young Severus Snape who loves magic, because we know that, Snape loves magic so much he creates new spells as a teenager, a Snape whose biggest desire is to leave his home to go to Hogwarts and learn and find his place in the world. A Snape that loves every class but has a little special place in his heart for potions because you don't need a wand!

Potion ingredients are expensive and rare, sure, and Snape's family is quite poor. Still, his mother makes him drink simple potions when he's feeling ill so maybe she has a little emergency stash (I imagine as a first aid kit) and he consoles himself with the thought that during the holidays he will be able to practice potions at home (with Lily, too!)

Imagine Snape hearing about the Slug Club. A club for the best potions students with promising future careers, the perfect place to make connections for the future! And Snape WILL be the best potions student! He'll work harder than anyone, because if he gets to the club, if Slughorn notices him, then he would have some money, help his mum and be free of Spinner's End forever… only, Slughorn doesn't notice.

Slughorn, Severus discovers, can be a wizard with quite a lot of knowledge, but he only has eyes for promising students with a bright future… that are already well-connected. Or those that are charming enough to overcome that barrier with their personality and abilities. Like Lily, she doesn't have any previous connection to the wizarding world, but she's the brightest, and everybody loves her (he loves her, too, but they haven't talked about that). It doesn't matter that Severus is the best in class, Slughorn simply… passes beside him. He doesn't notice, or if he notices, it doesn't matter. Slughorn doesn't see a bright future for him… but he does for people like James Potter.

JAMES POTTER! Who doesn't know the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane (they are the same plant!) and can barely be awake during potions class but -and this is the worst part- has a father that's one of the most renowned potioneers from their time. And that is something Snape abhors because he admires Fleamont Potter SO MUCH. What aspiring potioneer doesn't? Although known mostly by Sleekeazy, his contributions to the field of potion-making are immense, especially with regard to the renewal in the handling of certain ingredients.

James Potter may be the best student in McGonagall's class, but he does not deserve an invitation to the Slug Club. Snape would say it, but evidently, Slughorn doesn't care to listen to anything that he has to say. He eventually gets an invitation and joins Lily (James Potter doesn't get a renewal in his, that's divine justice or something). Even older -and annoyingly posher- students notice his abilities and begin to invite him to their reunions.

He hates that James Potter torments him because every year he can see THE Fleamont Potter in the flesh waving his son goodbye and every year his hands are sweaty because he only wants to ask him for an autograph and maybe have a little chat, but Snape would NEVER let James Potter know he admires his father. He and Black would never let it go. -He is also a tad jealous because Fleamont Potter seems like a super nice dad, he seems proud of his son and, well… let's not talk about Severus' dad, suffice it to say that he didn't take Severus to King's Cross, not even once.-

Snape is not particularly happy about obtaining the Potion Master position at Hogwarts. Those are dark days of regret, but he finds a bit of enjoyment in changing all the curriculum Slughorn left. He makes students follow his own instructions and not outdated books and even changes the location of the ingredients just out of spite. He has a lot of that.

When Snape finally gets the DADA post, he only enjoys it for a week before Albus informs him that Slughorn will be back. Slughorn, who changes everything back and is using outdated books AGAIN. Slughorn, who is "oh so much better than Snape" (according to the students) and "haven't you heard? he has a club for promising students, that's a great advance in our future career" (according to more naive students).

There is no doubt in my mind that Snape despised Slughorn. He probably complained to McGonagall about him as much as McGonagall complained about Umbridge the year before.

As always, excuse any mistakes, English is not my language and I don't check these silly posts.

[shytastemakerthing]

Hello! I saw that your matchups were open and I’d like some please?

For twisted wonderland, some romantic and platonic maybe? Idk. I kind of don’t know what I’m doing lol

Things about me bc that’s probably important:

- I am very……..very scatterbrained. I can remember what happened 10 years ago but not last week. Yesterday is nothing to me. My memory is either crystal clear or blurred completely, there’s no inbetween.

- Sometimes whether it’s late at night or just after a good movie I have what I call “crack energy” where I’ll start laughing hysterically at the most mundane things or at random things that I say.

- I have a lot of nervous tics, like picking dead skin on my fingers and rocking on my feet but I also have a few verbal ones as well (idk what else to call them, I make these random noises that change slightly depending on my mood).

- Depending on the circumstances I can either be extremely adaptable and rise to the occasion (like emergencies or when someone needs first aid) and in others I end up having a lot of anxiety than is healthy to the point where I��ll start to shake/count money wrong (the line at DQ starts to get pretty long). But either way, I’m very good at trying things out at least once.

- I?? I love frogs and snakes and all sorts of critters. I also love macabre decorations like animal bones used to decorate picture frames? I live for that. Mushrooms have been among my favorite types of fungus for years, I love seeing how people have studied them.

- while I’m not the most athletic person, I do take a Brazilian jiu jitsu class twice a week and I’m close to testing for my final belt in a self defense class. It’s really fun, but violent (In my first class I learned the guillotine choke which has become my favorite since then).

- No matter what happens I try to look on the bright side of things, although with a slightly morbid twist. Like, for example, “if this campsite floods and we’re swept away, at least we’ll be a cool news story to read about” or something. Also, I love to travel and visit people.

- I am very affectionate, but when a certain time of the month rolls around I am very VERY emotional, and it’s awful the two days leading up to it. When I’m really angry at something I have what my family calls a “death glare” that my brothers are apparently terrified of. It’s only something I can properly pull off when I’m properly mad, and I I can’t think about it either or else it doesn’t work. If I’m not angry, I might be crying over something small (usually the result of a whole bunch of other things spilling over into a breakdown.

- I have a weighted stuffed octopus and it’s become one of my most prized possessions. I have a lot of stuffed animals but it’s become my favorite bc I love feeling weight on me for some reason.

Hope that was enough, have a good night amazing human!!!

Hello and thank you for your request!! I hope you are well and in regards to this request, I did both a romantic and platonic match up!

Enjoy!!

Romantic:

I match you with........

Jade Leech

🍁 As soon as he heard about your love for mushrooms, you gained an invitation to join thr mountain lovers club as well as an invitation to come and help him take care of his terrariums pretty fast. He is committed.

🍁 You both often find each other swapping cacts about various mushrooms that you have learned about all while watching each other as if you both just hung the stars in the sky (Floyd sees this and gags..... he's lonely)

🍁 Speaking of Floyd, Jade has had tk take care of him for a good long while and his own personality so needless to say, he can handle you being scatterbrained better than anyone else. Honestly, he says that Floyd is so much worse so this is actually pretty nice.

🍁 To help with how your brain can be in recalling much of anything, he has left quite a few little sticky notes all around for you to find with needed information. Every single day, there is one on your door reminding you to take necessary breaks and to eat something.

🍁 Now, these anxious habits of yours? He has plenty of much better alternatives for you to help with this, mostly goes for picking your dead skin. He would happily whisk you away for an easier and far more relaxing mean of getting rid of it, free of charge. He is very well intune with your emotions and anxiety to know when it all begins even before you do. Anxiety has gone down because of this eel.

🍁 He does not mind your affectionate nature (again, Floyd), and to be honest, he quite loves it. Just make sure there is no one else around to see such softness and we will be just fine.

🍁 And when that lovely time of suffering arrives (IYKYK😭), he has everything that you need before you even say it.... EVERYTHING. Water? Check. Snacks? Grabbed all of your favorites on the way here. Pain mess? He keeps them even in HIS dorm. If a mess has been made? He has already has a warm shower running for you and while you're standing there, he has already changed the sheets and got dirty ones in tbe washer, fresh sheets on the bed, followed by your favorite drink, snack, book, and/or movie ready. Then helps you wash up, gets you in fresh clothing and now you're relaxing comfortably in bed wktn your loving eel.

🍁 Overall, if there is anything you need, Jade will a absolutely have it ready for you. He loves when you hike with him for new mushrooms or surprise him by showing up at the lounge, or even just your presence alone, he is very much happy.

Platonic:

I match you with......

Azul Ashengrotto

🐙 I saw that you have a weighted octopus plushie and that settled this debatebfir me as for a platonic matchup. (I want one now but y'know....*cries in broke*)

🐙 Azul would be the absolute KING at heloig through your nerves and anxieties. Look, he may not look it, but he has plenty if these issues himself, and he has found many helpful ways to work through them that he will be sharing with you, free of charge because you're able tk keep Jade in check, which also helps to keep Floyd in check.

🐙 He saw your weighted octopus plushie and nearly lost it because it was probably the best thing that this poor boy has seen (somebody please give the octopus a hug, he needs it). He has gotten you more.

🐙 As his dearest friend, as he likes to refer to you as, you do get discounts at the lounge. And ONLY you. It's not much as he still wants to bring in the madol, but hey, something is a lot better than nothing.

🐙 Speaking of Madol, if he hears your struggling a hit lately, of are just running a bit low and are in need of some things, he is on his way to your aide, no contract needed (honestly, he stopped trying after a week after seeing you would never sign one, and you're also dating his vice housewarden, who happens tk be his right hand mand, who also happens to be his childhood best friend).

🐙 I can see Azul as someone who would like some macabre things. He lived under the ocean, the ocean is a very dangerous place, and you use what you have. Skeletal remains are among those things, so this live of yours would not bother him. He'd even help you collect.

🐙 Overall, a friendship with the hoursewarden of Octavinelle and the leader of the infamous trio has quite a lot of benefits for you. Not that you are complaining. Great perks, discounted food, and so much more. It's certainly worth it.

[fruit-salad-ship]

What are some of teacher!Peaches favorite methods of getting her students motivated for class?

She’s got a “hell yeah” board in each locker room. She puts up A BUTT LOAD of active fit sports people, but like. No two bodies are the same. Her point is that ok, maybe you’re chunky, maybe you’re in a wheelchair, maybe you’re very very small, why’s that bad? Look at this professional sports person? They’re killing it. You can too and you can do it as whoever you are. It’s a case of practice and improvement, put the work in and you’ll see results.

She’s surprisingly perceptive to the kids with anger issues, or those who are stuck in their shell and introverted. She’ll channel the angry energy into productivity and give positive reinforcement. As for the shy types, they don’t always like to be centre of attention, so she pairs them up with the other shy ones and make a real fun game of some sports, let’s them maybe go work in a quieter space, away from the loud obnoxious sorts that may cause nervousness. It’s all about finding their special interests and mixing it with staying active. Talk to them, ask them what they enjoy, work it into classes.

She’s at every game, if someone in her class is competing she’s there in the stands rooting for them, she’ll learn new sport info and techniques just to help a student who wants to chase after a certain goal. If you got family issues? She gets it. No one’s going to come watch you play? She’ll go, even in some cases if you’re not competing through the school. You express a want to shed some pounds or gain some muscle to help your confidence? She’ll be the one to help with nutrition ideas, tips and tricks, she’ll tell you the best hours to hit the gym so it’s quiet if you prefer that. She’ll spot you if you’re lifting, motivate during cardio, she’s always involved in the activities so you know she’ll suffer the exhaustion with you, not just make you do the mile run alone.

First aid trained too, so always on call with the bandaids and emergency care.

She gives a shit, it’s veiled with a bit of a sharp personality, but she’s always in your corner. Uses music a lot, very up to date with that thanks to the kids.

Bullies however will get her wrath.

[survivalprostore]

Essential Survival Gear for Every Outdoor Enthusiast: A Humorous Guide

Hey there, fellow adventurers! If you're reading this, you're either gearing up for your next epic outdoor escapade or you're just lost on the internet and thought this might be about surviving your next family reunion. Either way, welcome! Today, we're diving into the must-have survival gear that every camper, hiker, and outdoor enthusiast needs. And we’re going to have a laugh along the way. Because let’s face it, surviving in the wild is tough, but it doesn’t have to be boring!

First up, the multi-tool. This little gadget is the Swiss Army Knife's cooler, more versatile cousin. Need to open a can? Multi-tool. Got a splinter? Multi-tool. Trying to impress your friends by pretending you know how to fix that thingy on your backpack? You guessed it—multi-tool. The 14-in-1 Outdoor Emergency Survival Gear Kit from our store is the ultimate multitasker. It's got everything from a knife to a bottle opener. Yes, because sometimes survival means cracking open a cold one after a long hike.Pro Tip: Make sure you practice opening it before you hit the trail. Nothing ruins a heroic moment like struggling with your tools while your friends are watching.

The Trusty Fire Starter

Fire is essential for survival. It keeps you warm, cooks your food, and scares away the creepy crawlies that want to join your camping party. Matches? They get wet. Lighters? They run out of fuel. But a magnesium fire starter? Now we're talking. It’s like having a tiny piece of Thor's hammer in your pocket.Check out our awesome fire starter kits. They’re foolproof, which is great because the last thing you want is to be that person who can't start a fire in front of your entire camping group. "Hey, remember when Dave couldn't start a fire, and we almost froze? Good times.

"Pro Tip: Practice at home first. Your neighbors might think you’re preparing for an apocalypse, but better safe than sorry.

The Unassuming Paracord Bracelet

You might think a paracord bracelet is just a fashionable accessory for your rugged outdoor look. Wrong! This little piece of fashion can save your life. Need to tie up your gear, make a shelter, or floss after eating that jerky? Paracord bracelet to the rescue! It’s like wearing Batman’s utility belt on your wrist.Our store offers paracord bracelets that even come with a built-in fire starter and whistle. Now you can call for help and start a fire without even reaching into your pack. Talk about multi-functional!

Pro Tip: Resist the urge to use it as a regular rope for mundane tasks. Save it for when you really need it. Like when you’re about to fall into a ravine. Or need to make an emergency clothesline.

The Legendary First Aid Kit

Getting a blister is not a rite of passage; it's just plain annoying. A first aid kit is the real MVP of any outdoor adventure. Cuts, scrapes, blisters, mysterious rashes—you name it, your first aid kit can handle it. Our kits are compact, comprehensive, and fit perfectly in your backpack without taking up too much space.And let’s be honest, nothing says "I’m prepared" like busting out a first aid kit when your buddy gets a paper cut from the map (yes, people still use maps).

Pro Tip: Don’t just carry it—know how to use it. Otherwise, it’s just extra weight. Maybe take a first aid class. You might even meet someone who shares your love for survival gear!

The All-Knowing Compass

GPS devices are great until they run out of battery or lose signal. A compass, however, is like the wise old owl of navigation tools. It doesn’t need batteries, it doesn’t glitch, and it won’t judge you for not knowing north from south.Our store has top-notch compasses that are easy to read and reliable. Perfect for when you’ve wandered off the beaten path and are starting to worry about becoming the next headline: "Lost Hiker Found Using Only a Selfie Stick and a Sense of Desperation.

"Pro Tip: Learn to use it properly. Or at least pretend you do while sneakily using your GPS as backup.

Wrapping It Up!

So there you have it, folks. The essential survival gear that every outdoor enthusiast needs. Remember, it’s not just about having the right tools; it’s about knowing how to use them and keeping a sense of humor when things go sideways. Because in the end, the best survival skill is the ability to laugh in the face of adversity (and your friends’ attempts at starting a campfire). Check out Survival Pro Store for all your gear needs, and may your adventures be epic and your blisters be few!

Happy Trails!

[venomizedstar]

SO, I noticed I don’t explained the Ordem Paranormal Classes so... I’m going to explain now!

Classes are a series of playstyles created and introduced in the AOP series. They were introduced in Ordem Paranormal: Desconjuração under the name Archetypes as routes to building your character's style in both investigation and battle, granting abilities and skill bonuses as rewards.

In Ordem Paranormal: Calamidade, the definitive name became Classes, with the addition of subclasses known as Paths, which in a creative way, change the way the player can use their abilities to survive in the universe.

Theres three classes: Combatente/Combatant, Especialista/Specialist and Ocultista/ Occultist.

Combatente: An expert in bladed weapons and guns, this kind of agent serves as the front line in fight against the Other Side.

The paths are:

Aniquilador/Annihilator: Trained to take down targets with efficiency and speed. Their weapons are their best friends and they take care of them as well as their teammates. Maybe even better;

Guerreiro/Warrior: They’re trained your musculature and movements to the point of turning their body into a true weapon. With melee strikes as powerful as a bullet, they face danger head-on;

Comandante de Campo/Field Commander: Without a commander, a battle is nothing more than a pub brawl. They are trained to coordinate and assist their companions in combat, making quick decisions and taking best advantage of their allies' situation and talent;

Operações Especiais/Special Operations: They are effective fighters. Their actions are calculated and optimized, always anticipating enemy movements and positioning themselves in the most intelligent way on the battlefield;

Tropa de Choque/Riot Police: They're a tough one. They have trained their body to withstand physical trauma, making it virtually unbreakable, and so they are not afraid to place themselves between their allies and danger.

Especialista: With knowledge, cleverness and smoothness, this agent is focused on solving different problems.

The paths are:

Atirador de Elite/Sniper: One shot one kill. Unlike combatants, they are adept at neutralizing threats from afar, ending a fight before it even starts. They treat their weapon like a precision tool, being able to perform incredible feats;

Infiltrador/Infiltrator: They are experts in infiltration and know how to neutralize unsuspecting targets without causing a fuss. Combining acrobatic talent, manual dexterity and technical knowledge they are able to overcome any defensive barrier, even when the mission seems impossible;

Médico de Campo/Field Doctor: They are trained in first aid and emergency treatment techniques, making they a valuable member of any agent group. Unlike conventional healthcare professionals, they are used to the battlefield and know how to make quick decisions in the midst of chaos;

Negociador/Negotiator: They are skilled diplomats and can influence others, whether through smooth talk or intimidation. Their ability to quickly and efficiently assess situations can get the group out of trouble that even the most powerful of weapons could not solve;

Técnico/Technitian: Their main skill is the maintenance and repair of the valuable equipment that their team carries on a mission. They technical knowledge also allows them to improvise tools with whatever they has at hand and sabotage the items used by his enemies.

Ocultista: A scholar of the paranormal, who seeks to understand the mysteries of the elements and use them to his advantage.

The paths are:

Conduíte/Conduit: They master the fundamental aspects of ritual casting and are able to increase the range and speed of their spellcasting. As their connection to paranormal entities increases, they become able to interfere with other occultists' rituals;

Flagelador/Scourger: Pain is a powerful paranormal catalyst, and they've learned to turn it into power for their rituals. When they becomes especially powerful, they are able to use the pain and suffering of their enemies as an instrument of his occult rituals;

Graduado/Graduate: They focus their studies on becoming a versatile and powerful spellcaster, knowing more rituals than other occultists and being able to make them more difficult to resist. Their goal is to unlock and master the secrets of the Other Side, no matter what the cost.

Intuitivo/Intuitive: Just as combatants train their bodies to withstand physical trauma, they prepare their minds to withstand the effects of the Other Side. Their focus and willpower allow them to expand the limits of their paranormal abilities.

Lâmina Paranormal/Paranormal Blade: Some occultists prefer to stay shut in their libraries studying books and rituals. Others prefer to investigate paranormal phenomena at their source. They prefer to use the paranormal as a weapon. They learned and mastered fighting techniques by blending their spellcasting skills with their combat capabilities.

Theres more paths for each class, but since are just some people who have the access to them, and I am not one of them, I can't explain now

Elementos | Teams | O Segredo na Ilha

[holly-fixation]

Three... Guards? Ch. 2

Summary: Tifa finds Cloud at the train station in Sector Seven. It’s the first time she’s seen him in seven years. But he’s not alone. Three silver haired boys protected him. Three silver haired boys that triggered memories of her hometown. Of steel through her chest. Of SOLDIER First Class. Of Him.

The boys refused to leave Cloud's side.

Inspired by this prompt by @im-totally-not-an-alien .  

Please Enjoy!

…

Chapter 2: Cure

The three boys marched like soldiers the entire way to the bar, obviously glaring and staring down any person that even thought about approaching. Tifa saw friends and customers more unsettled by the boys than willing to offer her aid, but for Cloud’s sake, she took the parting of the crowd as a relief to arrive at her bar faster. 

Once they entered Seventh Heaven, all three of the boys pulled stools off of the table closest to the bar. The middle sibling actually grabbed a stack of her folded napkins and laid them out like a pillow. 

“Can you grab the first aid kit from behind the bar?” Tifa attempted to ask politely as she leaned Cloud against the table and removed the incredible weapon attached to his back. “And there are dish towels near the sink. Can you run them under warm water?”

They all nodded, Kadaj rushing around the bar to find the targeted box while Loz and Yazoo swiftly ran to the sink. 

She was surprised but thankful they left Cloud’s side, allowing her to gently lay him on the table and scan for wounds. There were no external injuries, but his dry skin screamed dehydration to her. She wasn't sure if that same cause created his extreme weakness. 

Too many questions flooded her mind. Too many concerns for the singular man in front of her for her mind and thoughts to function completely straight. 

He needed Cure, magic, materia. At least then she might know what doctor he needed. Maybe he just needed water and rest. She hoped it was that simple. She hoped. 

Water may not be enough to rehydrate him either. 

Tifa glanced up at the sound of rapid movement as the boys rushed Cloud's sides. 

Two of them carefully applied a moisturizer to the chaffing skin before placing the wet cloths on his forehead and chest. She didn't even think of the damage water could do to dry skin, or the pain it could cause from seeping into the cracking the surface. They seemed to know exactly what to do. Correction, the long haired one did, silently scolding the larger one for being too rough with a simple glare and the occasional nudge. 

She heard a click as she moved Cloud's hair out of the way before the smallest one returned with the first aid kit. A first aid kit she always kept her strongest healing materia inside, in case of emergencies. 

“Did you guys try any materia?” Tifa needed to confirm before she tried the spells herself. 

“No. We couldn’t find any,” the youngest explained harshly. 

“He’s been in and out of consciousness for the past two hours…” The long haired one explained, his eyes still on his task. “A Cure may allow him to rest…”

Tifa needed no further information and held the orb in her hand, its green glow so bright it nearly blinded the eldest who accidentally looked up. She casted the strongest spell she could, both the ring and the light consuming the room as the magic wove through Cloud’s body. 

His breath finally calmed, and after a few seconds, his eyes opened again. 

All three boys immediately stepped back, but neither one of the childhood friends noticed. 

Tifa was too entranced by the light that returned to his now mako-blue eyes.

His hand landed on her arm softly and he forced himself to sit up. He gave her an embarrassed look, his eyes barely able to remain anywhere near her as he spoke, his mind clearly still fogged but he pushed through it to speak. “Thank you… Tifa…”

A weak smile pulled at her lips, her gaze filled with care as she placed a hand atop his own. She nodded. “Feeling better?”

“A bit… I think I can-”

“Nope,” She cut him off, knowing exactly where he was going and finally gaining his eyes. “You will talk, and you will rest, and you will do nothing more until you're ready.”

“But I-”

“No buts,” Tifa scolded, and the eldest of the silver haired brothers struggled to hide a laugh under his hand. She shot a glare at them, and they all silenced and stood at attention immediately. 

Cloud chuckled softly, her attention returning to him. “You’ve changed a lot in five years…”

Five…?

“Yeah…” She felt the lie leave her mouth before she thought it. “But Cloud, what happened to you?”

He looked away again, his eyes hardening at the ‘memory’. “I was heading back from a mission… And that behemoth took more out of me than I thought… I’m sorry, Tifa…”

“Cloud, why are you sorry?”

He tensed slowly. “...my promise…”

The water tower. “You didn’t break your promise by getting hurt. It’s okay.”

“But I should’ve had enough supplies to get back…”

“Hey. I said no buts. Next time you prepare more. That's all.”

Cloud winced a bit at the scolding before his eyes landed on the three boys. An unreadable expression claimed his gaze. “Thank you for your help…”

They all gave a soft nod. 

“How did you- nh…” The blonde grabbed his head, soft pained groans forcing their way through his body, his exhaustion catching up to him once again. 

The long haired one spoke first as Tifa brought one of the warm towels to his forehead, “You need rest…”

Cloud clearly hated the idea, but he couldn’t ignore the look in Tifa’s eyes. 

“Come on. I’ll take you to my place.” 

He nearly pouted before his breathing started to slow again. 

Something dinged as a mechanical whur suddenly rumbled through the room, only getting louder and louder. Cloud shot to attention and tried to grab the hilt of his blade, but Tifa stopped him, a hand gripping his own to silently tell him it was safe. However, her message did not make it to the three boys who currently crowded around the source of the sound with rusty, worn down pocket knives they absolutely found in the trash. 

As the platform rose along the metal rails, a large man none of the three recognized came with it, along with a blooping pinball machine. 

They nearly jumped him without question, and the only thing that stopped them was Tifa’s yell to wait. They froze but they did not move, their blades barely a centimeter away from his skin.

The large man inhaled sharply before clearing his throat, his hands automatically in the air the moment he saw the boys behind him. Well, one hand, and one gun. “Uh, Tifa?” His burly voice came with utter confusion. “Mind explainin’ what’s goin’ on?”

“Guys, he’s a friend,” She called them off, and they immediately ran and formed a wall around Cloud, still staring daggers and all but hissing as the man slowly turned to face the room. “Sorry for that, Barret.”

“Look, Tifa, I'm pretty big. I'm used to scarin' little kids.”

All of their glares hardened.

“But what’s goin’ on here?”

Tifa sighed before explaining everything she understood: finding Cloud, who Cloud was, healing him, and her plan to take care of him, but she brushed over the topic of the boys other than the fact that they found him. Barret had eyes. Barret hated Shinra. There was absolutely no doubt in her mind that those boys looked familiar to him too. She also didn’t have a clue how to justify that ‘big brother’ statement from the station, so she chose to withhold the comment for now. 

“Cloud’s gonna stay at my place until he heals up,” Tifa finished, gaining a small groan of protest from the blonde in question. “Cloud, you need to rest.”

“I just need to get back in the game…”

“You can barely stay awake.”

“I just need some action. Then I'll be good to go.” He actually managed to steel his voice, almost sounding like his normal self. 

“Don’t hurt yourself,” the smallest of the triplets demanded, and the blonde adult actually glared away, defeated by a small child and relaxing his body. 

Tifa sighed before looking at Barret once more. “Can you do me a solid and watch 'the place' while I get Cloud over to Stargazer Heights?”

He took a glance over at the three kids that were one thousand percent ready to stab him a moment ago, and although they tried to look intimidating, they kind of reminded him of angry kittens, tiny and afraid. Despite who they looked like. “’Course, Tifa. Not a problem at all.” It was still midday. He had plenty of time before he needed to pick up his daughter from school, and he figured the other members of the crew below would be grateful to not be stabbed the moment they came up to use the bathroom, or came up to get a drink of water like he did.

“Thank you.” After giving a soft nod and a small smile, Tifa returned to Cloud’s side and helped him stand. 

However, the moment they made it to the door, the three brothers literally followed them in a line like lost chocobo chicks. 

Tifa winced a bit, adjusting Cloud's arm over her shoulder as she called back. “Boys, why don't you stay here?” 

They immediately countered with protests, speaking over each other without remorse. 

“Absolutely not!” 

“We won't make a sound…”

“He needs protection!”

“I’ll be okay…” Cloud mumbled insistently. 

“Now, now,” Barret immediately came to Tifa's aid, using every shred of the parental tone he usually saved for Marlene to herd the brothers. “Tifa's apartment is pretty small-”

“Then we’ll wait outside!” The smallest barked. 

“-and she lives right up the road,” He finished with a slightly harsher tone from the interruption. “You’ll get in the way. Hell, probably hurt Cloud more as a result. You don't want that, do ya? He's in safe hands. All you gotta do is wait here.”

At the middle child’s slight contemplation, Tifa finally opened the door. 

The little one practically teleported to stop them. How did he run that fast? 

“Kadaj-” She tried to scold. 

“I take up the least space- I’m going with him.” 

“No fair!” The largest one yelled, but the middle child grabbed his arm and gave him a look of soft apology. 

“Kadaj has a point…” Yazoo explained simply. “If he goes, we’ll know Big Brother is safe…”

Again, neither adult audibly questioned the ‘big brother’ comment, only keeping their inquiries to themselves. Whatever they were talking about, if it let Tifa leave, then it was fine with them.

Tears immediately left the eldest’s eyes, the middle one sighing and the youngest rolling his eyes. Surprisingly, Loz didn’t protest, finally giving Tifa a path of least resistance to escape. 

“Okay. Come on, Kadaj. Hold the door open.”

The smallest brother immediately did as she asked, and they left the remaining two with the man with a gun for an arm. 

An awkward bead of silence passed through them before Barret suggested the two boys sit at the bar, and he’d get them age appropriate drinks.

They seemed hesitant, but they did take the suggestion, both of them glaring slightly at the height of the bar compared to their respective sizes. Even though Barret only handed them glasses of water, they downed it like alcoholics. Without even asking, he refilled both drinks, and again they were gone in seconds. 

“Damn, kids. When was the last time you guys ate?”

Loz glanced at Yazoo for an answer. Any sustenance they managed to scrape together since the moment they arrived in this situation went to Big Brother. 

“Yesterday…” Yazoo chose to answer honestly. 

“Yesterday!?” Barret echoed in bewilderment. 

Did they give the wrong answer? They only told him the truth. 

“You poor things! Let me make you somthin' to eat.”

Again, they weren't going to stop him, even though all he grabbed were four slices of bread and two slices of packaged yellow cheese. They watched silently as he took the two ingredients and literally handed them both cheese sandwiches on napkins. 

Guilt creeped into Barret’s expression before the snacks even hit the bar. Tifa would kick his ass for wasting any of her products, but especially since he couldn’t pay her back with a mission so soon. However, the feeling vanished when the eldest devoured the innocent meal. 

“Thank you…” The long haired one showed the slightest shred of self control by expressing any gratitude before annihilating his own. 

Alright, maybe he could owe Tifa a couple gil for a few weeks. These kids were starving. He gave them various fruits, more cheese sandwiches, and basically anything else he knew he didn’t need to cook and could restock in a short time. 

Eventually they both calmed, no longer scarfing down each offering like each would vanish in seconds. 

“Thank you, Mister,” the larger one finally spoke. 

“Feelin’ better?”

They both nodded. 

“Mind explainin’ a few things?”

They nodded in allowance. 

Barret cleared his throat before asking his first question. “What were three boys your age doin’ in those planes?”

The two brothers, mainly Yazoo, spun a tale of how they were basically small bounty hunters, and Midgar’s planes usually have weaker creatures that they could handle and make a quick gil off of. He claimed they found a monster they barely managed to defeat, at the cost of all of their weapons, and how they happened to spot the monster Big Brother killed before finding him. He stated that arriving in Sector Seven was just luck. 

None of the remnants had any idea why Big Brother lied, but it gave them the perfect opportunity to fabricate a backstory around it. If they were going to keep an eye on him, they needed to stay close, especially considering their current sizes. And of course Big Brother had a life under the completely fallen plate before the order.

“Is he really your brother?” Barret inquired. “He don’t look like you.”

Loz glared away and crossed his arms, having no choice beyond silence. 

“We didn’t want anyone taking him away…” Yazoo lied a half truth. “And he’s not old enough to pass as Father…”

The man with a gun for an arm squinted in small analysis before letting out a quick laugh. “That’s fair. You’d have an easier time convincin’ someone Sephiroth’s your daddy.”

“He is not our father,” The eldest muttered.

At the confused look on the adult’s face, Yazoo explained with slight darkness in his usually neutral voice, “Our apologies… We get that a lot…”

Barret sighed and shook his head to take the blame himself, yet it reminded him of something. It was a topic he should have brought up sooner. “Do you guys wanna call home? See if your mom can come pick you up? We appreciate the help with Cloud but-”

The middle child tilted towards the older one, who was already failing to hide tears at the reference alone. “Don’t cry, Loz…”

He quickly turned away and swiped the unwanted streams off his face.

Now it was Yazoo’s turn to look away. “We can’t find her… She went missing two months ago…”

Suddenly, the details of their story wove together to a lie Barret truly believed. Three boys, living on their own, trying to make money any way they could, without any parents to take care of them. They came across someone who needed help, and they refused to allow someone else to be taken from them or feel the abandonment they subconsciously felt. He came to those conclusions on his own, and the remnants couldn’t be more grateful for the false belief. 

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Thanks for reading!