#this is the first proper time ive gotten sick in a while | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

multifandumbmeg · 9 months ago

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Random update per my fics:

Sorry I haven't updated in the last few days. I usually try to write some every day, but I took a day off to plan Golden Glint and then finished the mini fic (Reckoning of Mike Carrera) I started before it because that's what I wanted to write and I wanted to finish it.

On the topic of all my in-progress fics, my writing just isn't consistent right now. I mentioned a while ago that I'm going through AO3 author's curse and would eventually expand on that, so since I'm extremely frustrated and paralyzed from being productive today I'll do that now.

Starting from winter/late fall of 2022 I got sick and basically never got better. I was having illness after illness that meds weren't solving, and my headaches just got more and more frequent until they were every day for at least three months. By the time I came home from Korea, I was having full-blown debilitating migraines every day and attacks where I would almost pass out and couldn't breathe. It took me a couple months but I got on insurance, started a new job, and managed to convince my parents to let me focus on getting my health together this year.

It's been extremely difficult and frustrating because US healthcare, but I found out I do not in fact have ANY allergies despite doctors telling me I do, literally putting me on allergy shots for a year, and telling me that was the cause of migraines, inability to breathe, and constant illness, none of which were true. I had to prove this to them by fighting to see an actual allergist and getting re-tested which costs me hundreds of dollars out of pocket, but at least the allergist was a good dude who wrote a SCATHING letter to my primary care demanding I be sent to the proper specialists for my symptoms. Several blood tests and medications later, we have whammy number two:

The hypoglycemia I was diagnosed with as a teenager was not in fact random. Instead, I have hyperthyroidism caused by Graves Disease. Except I ALSO have Hashimoto's Disease, because I am just so special like that. Basically, rather than allergies like I was always told, I have been getting every single sickness that rolled by for the past several decades and because I was so used to being sick and so criminally gaslit about it, I didn't even know I was ill and just kept going. Thyroid also has tumors on it. I may also have other autoimmune disorders, or thyroid cancer, but I won't know until I finally see an endocrinologist an hour away later this month.

Though my daily migraines stopped last summer, I still get frequent headaches and now extremely bad ones (or migraines) every time it rains. Generally, there seems to be some kind of inflammation issue where my body over-reacts to literally everything by swelling up and causing more problems.

Possibly tied to that, I was in pain every single day at work. Considering my age, there is no normal reason I should be crippled by joint pain but that is yet to be solved. I now only work two days a week, which has helped significantly, but I am still consistently in a ton of pain two days a week, sometimes three as a rebound.

In January, before I had gotten any diagnoses, my parents gave me an ultimatum that they were kicking me out in May. I had to beg them to go part-time because I simply could not keep up with job applications while I was so constantly tired and pain. After sobbing for two straight days about the inevitability of becoming homeless because I can't afford to or logistically live on my own, my mom convinced my dad to let me go part time on the condition that I continue to pay the same rent Ive been paying to live in one of their empty spare rooms.

In February, I went in for the first appointment toward getting an Autism screening. The therapist suggested I get an ADHD test and recommended me for the official autism screening, saying I have a solid case for suspecting. After a little computer game and another talking appointment, slightly to my own surprise (especially because of how easy it was) I was clinically diagnosed with ADHD. I recently started meds for that and it has made basic tasks and job applications infinitely easier to the extent it's insane, plus my final Autism screening is next week and based on my results every step of the process so far diagnosis seems likely.

All that said, the job search process has been soul-destroyingly frustrating. I have a masters degree in a specialized field, backed up by a Bachelor's in a relevant field, years of study abroad and work abroad (which is relevant to my career path) and a track record of excellent academic achievement. I also speak French and Korean near-fluently and am conversational in Romanian and Russian, as well as knowing a fair few phrases in a number of other languages. Every job I've had has stressed me out to the point of quitting by around a year (hello Autism), but also none were related to what I studied at all, highly customer service oriented, and still every one would tell you I was one of the best employees they ever had and begged me to stay. Even with this track record, after literally HUNDREDS AND HUNDREDS of applications (which in my field almost always require a cover letter, often questionnaires and lengthy short answers, or even writing samples in addition) I have had ONE interview in four years. ONE. And I was so heinously underqualified for that hail-Mary I'm 99% certain they only interviewed me to meet a quota. As you can imagine, for someone with highly probable AuDHD, doing the same thing over and over for 4 years with a 100% failure rate is enough to make me want to dive into a lake with a pile of bricks chained to my back.

I'm still months out from seeing a neurologist about my headaches and general constant pain, I don't have a plan of action for my buck-wild medical anomaly thyroid, and I don't know if my parents are kicking me out next month. They haven't brought it up so maybe with my recent headway on the Peace Corps application (was told I stand a very good chance, but that's another contract job overseas, further pushing back my ability to find a stable, long term career job) and slew of diagnoses and medications, my dad is cooling off a bit. I don't know.

All that to say my body is crumbling out from under me, my job is stressful, and despite being extremely qualified and putting in so much effort, I have zero long-term life prospects. Sometimes, that results in me diving whole-hog into writing for fun and as an outlet, other times I'm too tired or need to bury myself in mindless content consumption or days of spending every spare moment staring at my ceiling in silence until I maybe fall asleep. Did I also mention the crippling lifelong insomnia which my ADHD meds (along with rapid weight loss I'm desperately trying to curb because I'm already borderline underweight due to my thyroid) are exacerbating?

Anywyay. Point is I'm very tired and stressed so my writing is going to be much less consistent than in the past. Hope you understand. Also just an update for my online friends. TMI but I needed to rant and put it out there for those wondering to lower expectations.

#Sorry #You can leave now

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sweeeeeeeeeeets · 1 month ago

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Thomas falls into a coma (for 2 weeks) and wakes up with temporary memory loss. He gains his memory back and when he does the one thing that sticks to his mind is the fight though, they still love each other deeply and make up. - prompt from a friend (their reasoning : cause they need more.)

Did not follow the prompt right, took more inspiration then anything. This has been in my drafts forever and I finally wrote in the past hour, maybe not as good as the first one, but eh. I enjoy it. Hope you all like it.

Warnings:

- mentions of sucide

- mentions of depression

- pills induced sleep

- excessive drug use / over dose

- wild ride of emotions

- self blame

- lack of hygiene

- insecure

- no editing

- Grammer mistakes

You have been warned.

-By going past this, you have made the decision that you are alright with the warnings and I cannot be held reliable.-

I Missed Him.

I missed him, it's been about 2 weeks later, I was sitting in my room alone, mourning my late boyfriend. He died, he...he died, I hadn't been there to do anything, hands shaky, hair unbrushed....some would say I fell down the rabbit hole of depression. I didn't even care enough to take care of myself and do proper hygiene.

I haven't touched my phone, nor have I gotten up and left my room. My parents have been kind enough to leave food at the door for me when meals came around...how am I meant to handle his death? He...I love him.. no, I loved him...i could barely do anything without being reminded of him.

Being huddled up in his hoodie was far worse, his smell fading into oblivion...the hoodie while his, lost what was left of him... Ive been writing letter after letter, been reading book after book, looking through photo after photo. Trying to calm myself down from this place..

Letters to him, overflowing with all my emotions...I loved him, so why did he have to be taken away? No matter how hard I try to push it away, the thought of joining him are strong...I can't help but think 'What is life without him by my side?'...

That night, I took the pills my mom got me, my lack of sleep the past few nights have been getting to me. They were just meant to make you sleepy...but, take too much and it would be bad like all other drugs... And that intrusive voice... The one that tells me the worst things...Just had to spur up now.

I listened to it, all the mean things it had to say. With less hesitation then I should've had...I took far too many more then I should've. One last time, I looked at the photos, and wrote one last letter...addressed to everyone in my life I thought was important enough to mention.

Heading to bed, I closed my eyes for what I thought would be the last time.

Beep

Beep-beep

The smell of bleach, and that distinct beep of a heart rate monitor was all I heard...the smell of sickness and death mixing with the bleach...the distinct smell of the hospital.

Before I could open my eyes...I realized I felt arms around my waist.. thin, warm, familiar arms...it-it was him...please tell me it was. B-but that can't be.

"Love? I don't know if you can hear me, but, im right here, i promise everything will be ok, i love you" that was his voice, my eyes snapped open and I went to turn around and face him...while my muscles are weak, I still turned to face him, it hurt, and I was slow, but I finally saw him.

"Your alive" I exclaimed, my voice scratchy, and hoarse from lack of use. "I am, and when I woke up, you were here, you've been here a month, I heard all the commotion...they said you had too much of some substance, I dont remember what, in your system, did you...overdose? Why would you do that?" As he spoke, I could hear the softness...but also the slight panic and the self doubt...he was probably thinking I overdosed because of him...and while hes not wrong...i almost wish I didn't now.

"I-ive been here a month? It feels like ive only been in the darkness of my subconscious for a few minutes" I responded, trying to ignore the last half of what he said.

As he grabbed my cheeks, I saw it then, the close to break down of crying look in his eyes... I tried to give him a small smile "Hey...hey, it's ok...im ok, are you ok...I thought you were..dead." I whispered, and he gave a small nod.

Over the course of getting back into tip top shape with him, we both apologized profusely, confessed all our feelings, explained the stories... everything.

A new development I had learnt since waking up though, was...that I felt jealousy, and was so insecure about our relationship that when even the nurse talked to him I would think he would leave me.

Losing him once, left a heavy weight in my heart, and a terrible voice in the back of my head. I love, and trust him...but...who would still want to be with me when I have tried to take the easy way out? When the last thing I said to him before his supposed death wasn't even I love you. We had an argument, and I hadn't said I love you, and he was gone.

Who would want to be with me, when I look sickly and didnt have much strength after a month of sleeping? Why would this amazing boy ever want to stay with me?

Soon, I found myself discharged and cuddled up in bed with him. Whispering sweet murmurs...I had him back, the love of my life, the boy I loved, back in my arms. I lied there, comforted by his embrace, smiling as I fell to sleep...I truly had thought he was gone. All I could of thought during that time was 'I missed him'.

Prompt :

insert title for story

insert very short love story where at the end, the love interest dies a tragic death (like *insert love intrest name* was crushed by a truck taking a turn. {And then its over, like the stories done})

Warning/Facts (?) -> Names/Terms of endearment : babe, honey-boo (jokingly), 'my love' / Swearing (specifically the F word) used in a 'why do this?' type of way. / Sad story. / Short. / Is all in Mc (Sasha) pov.

Main Character (mc) -> Sasha Andrews

Love intrest -> Thomas Smith

Side Character -> Thomas Mother, slight mention of Sasha's parents.

Side note -> please dont be offended if you have those names, I just came up with 'em on the spot. And, the story isn't exactly like the prompt, I wrote that prompt like a month ago, and I decided to write this now. The prompt jas been in my drafts for awhile.

NONE OF THIS IS EDITED!

By continuing, you know what you are getting into.

Why didn't I say I love you?

'Why didn't I say I love you?' I thought, looking at the dozens of photos of me and my boyfriend. We had just gotten into such a big fight, and amist all that rage, I stormed out of the apartment. Im lucky my parents live by and have left my room alone. The anger has finally bubbled down, its been hours anyways. But....all I feel is guilt. Even when me and Thomas fight, we always say 'I love you' before we leave....he had yelled it, so why didn't I yell it back? Ugh, I can feel the lump in my throat, the growing urge to break down crying. Why didn't I just say it? Why was I so angry? He hasn't contacted me since, and I dont feel it is my place to contact him. Its been hours, maybe this is our last fight? No. Dont be silly, you love him, and he loves you. It's going to work itself out in the end. Dont worry.

Heh, dont worry, dont worry? Ive been repeating that silly line too myself for the past week, oh, how I miss the warmth of our sleepy cuddles, the small talks, the silent dinners in each others comforting presences. I miss him, my love, I miss how we would lay in bed, have silly banter, and just, cuddle till we couldn't hold our eyes open anymore, till our brains finally said thats enough. Oh, how I miss Thomas.

I finally broke down crying, its around 2 am, maybe I should text him? But, no. I cant, its not my place....but, he also deserves an apology. I type it up, hoping the paragraph was good, before realizing, a call would be better, Deleting the paragraph, my finger going up to hover over the call button, one second of hesitation, before pressing down and calling him. It rung three times, three rings Ill never forget what happened next.

The call started, I wait for the hello, signifying that he was on the other end....."Hello? Im sorry, but if your calling Thomas, hes busy right now" a female voice, almost shaky replied, I recognized it to be his mother's voice, I quickly responded, hoping she wont hang up before I get the chance to speak. "Is he ok? Are you ok?" I was concerned for both of them, one, my boyfriend has always picked up the phone, and two, his mothers voice was so shaky, almost like she has been or is crying. "No, and no. Thomas- he- he is in the hospital right now, hes.....hes not going to make it." It took me a full minute to comprehend what I was being told, before I knew it, tears were already rushing down my cheeks "w-what happened?" I said, trying not to sound like I was crying, trying to stay strong. The voice on the other end, hesitated for a minute, the silence growing, before it was broken, and she had said "He had been in a car accident, fatal." I couldn't take it anymore, letting out a broken sob, trying to calm down. The phone hangs up, his mother must've decided the conversation wasn't going anywhere with the way things were going.

I drop my phone on the bed, crying as I sink to my knees. Hes gone? Hes gone? That cant be true.....but it is, isn't it? I cant deny the facts....some memories flashing through my vision. We were cuddling, his arms around my waist, we were having a small chat. "My love, we both know I make the better pancakes, you can't deny that." And I had responded with a playful chuckle "uh-huh, well, sorry Honey-boo, your wrong." And it all began. All the memories flooding my brain, tears rolling down my cheeks, soaking the fabric of my top. "Why did you have to take him away? What the Fuck did he do? He didn't do anything to deserve this........" I said angrily, before continuing on, a sadder tone, one that was softer "Why didnt I say I love you?"

Written by me. {April/11/2024}

#sweeeeeeeeeeets #shortstories #short story #short stories #writeblr #writers on tumblr #my writing #writing #writerscommunity #part 2 #fypfypfypfypfypfypdypfypfypfypfypfypfyfpfyfpfyp #fypツ #fypシ #fypage #tumblr fyp #fyp

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kasshole69 · 3 years ago

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truly, madly, deeply - 2

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff, (eventual) Natasha Romanoff x Reader, (eventual) Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: You’d been living a good life, well as good as it could get with how full of lies it was. Why? It was the only way to get by when you were an unmated omega with an uneasy past. That's all flipped on its head when you see a matching soul mark on two certain avenger, leaving your lies to crumble right in front of your face.

A/N: okay so now this is where stuff happens lol. i crossposted this on ao3 under the name kasshole and it felt like it got really big just overnight so ill probably post there first (also im not very good at using tumblr) whoop whoop anyways on to the chapter!

chapter 1 chapter 3 ao3

Your two friends rushed you to the hospital as fast as they possibly could. What the hell happened? Yeah, lately you hadn’t been feeling good, but when did it get so bad that you were passing out? Brooke carried you into the hospital doors, and a couple nurses rushed over to ask what happened.

“We don’t know! She was having trouble walking this morning, and then doubled over in pain and completely passed out.” Lexi explains, and Brooke gently sets you down on a bed that a nurse had gotten ready.

One of the nurses had paged a doctor, who made their way over to ask a few questions. “How long has she been feeling pain?”

Lexi shrugs empathetically. “We aren’t entirely sure, but she’s been missing work every now and again these past 3 month. It just never seemed this bad.”

“Alright. We are going to take her back to do a few tests and see what’s happening. One of the nurses can lead the two of you to the room she’ll be staying in,” the doctor said before taking two nurses with him further into the hospital.

After about 2 hours, a nurse came back to your room for the time being, pushed your unconscious self in your bed, and hooked up an IV and heart monitor to your body. She stated that the doctor would be coming in after he got the test results.

You looked terrible. Lexi and Brooke had seen you sick before but never to this extent. Your skin was as pale as paper with deep purple bags under your eyes. It genuinely looked like you were on death’s doorstep. Little did they know that you were.

The doctor entered the room with a solemn look. It was hard to reach a conclusion with you still being asleep, but all the tests lead to one answer. Touch Deprivation, common in omegas who have unknowingly met their soulmates or have lost their soulmates. Without proper care it will only get worse, eventually turning fatal.

“Seeing as you stated that she has been in pain for about 3 months and hasn’t gotten much physical contact in that time, we don’t have a lot of options. Do you know if she’s come into contact with her soulmate? Looking at her medical records, it doesn’t seem like she has met them yet,” the doctor explained, giving Lexi and Brooke a hopeful look. If you had met them, all they needed to do was find them and they could start the recovery process.

Lexi and Brooke felt a sense of dread overcome them. Was this because you knew who your soulmates were? Did they unknowingly help you nearly kill yourself?

“As far as I know she hasn’t met them, but she does know who they are,” Lexi says in a small voice, feeling like she is betraying your trust.

“She does? Is there a reason she is avoiding them? If they are abusive we will keep a close eye on them while they are here.”

Lexi looks down at her feet. “It’s not that. She just… she didn’t want to meet them. Her reasoning made sense at the time but now…”

The doctor frowns. “Well, do you know who her soulmate is?” —————————— You could feel yourself starting to wake, but moving felt like such a hassle. Honestly, you can’t remember the last time you weren’t woken up by an outside source; whether that be your alarm, your roommates, or like more recently; searing pain. It feels like it’s been ages since you’ve been this comfortable; covered in a warm blanket, laying on a warm pillow with deft hands lightly combing through your hair. Wait, hands?

Before you’ve completely processed that thought, you're instinctively pushing yourself and the assailant off opposite sides of the twin sized bed. You hear them let out a yelp, clearly not expecting to be thrown off, and you hit the ground hard. Sitting up, you take in your surroundings and realize you’re in a… hospital? You follow the cord of the IV in your arm to the connected bag and blaring heart monitor right next to it. You can hear your attacker get up, looking around to find you. You back up, heart racing, before they finally face you, and you see one of the last faces you were wanting to see.

Wanda Maximoff.

She looks at you with a shocked, concerned expression, saying something you don’t pay any attention to because of the fact that one of your godforsaken soulmates is right in front of you, and has been coddling you in this tiny bed for God knows how long. Right as you’re about to say something, the door to the room flies open. Three nurses and a doctor, all with frantic expressions burst into the room, taking in the scene until they see you sitting on the ground. Once they spot you their tension seems to dissipate, and the doctor takes a step towards you.

“Oh, thank goodness. It was just a false alarm,” presumably referring to the still blaring heart monitor. “Glad to see you're finally awake, Kass,” the doctor says, helping you up from the ground while a nurse went around the two of you to turn off the heart monitor.

“What happened?”

“You were brought here by your roommates yesterday morning when you passed out,” the doctor answered.

Passed out? You hardly remembered yesterday morning, it felt more like trying to remember a dream than something that actually happened. And this happened yesterday? If this happened yesterday then-

“I have work! Do they know I’m-“

“From my knowledge, your roommates have contacted your workplace and have been handling everything you might have missed.” Hearing that, you let out a relieved sigh. Lexi and Brooke are handling things for you and you couldn’t be happier. God, you had no idea what you would do if you were alone.

The doctor takes out their clipboard full of important-looking papers. “Now to get on to exactly why you're here. After you were brought here, we ran some tests while you were unconscious. From the results and the testimony from your roommates, we deduced that you are suffering from touch deprivation, which can be fatal in some cases.”

Shit. This was the last thing you expected it to be. You know for a fact you hadn’t accidentally met one of your soulmates before today and seeing as you spent so much time with Lexi and Brooke, this never seemed like a possibility. How did this happen? Was it a mental thing?

The doctor continued saying, “Seeing as the pain got so bad that you had passed out from it, along with the fact that your roommates said this had been going on for at least 3 months, without having gotten any treatment this was becoming fatal rather quickly. If we weren’t able to find one of your soulmates so fast, we wouldn’t have been able to do much for you.”

You had looked at Wanda, who was looking rather timid and was unable to make eye contact with you, not at all looking like the fierce and unforgiving alpha the media painted her to be.

This was all too much, you had nearly died and for what? For your freedom? Look at where that got you, the exact place you didn’t want to be. You put your head in your hands, trying to fight back the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. Everything was going to change now, you would have to move in with the Avengers, probably quit your job with how far the compound was from the city. You hated this, being unable to control the changes that were being thrust upon you.

The doctor must’ve been able to sense your distressed pheromones telling you, “You have been making stellar progress as you’ve been asleep, you certainly aren’t in as much pain as before, correct?” You looked back up and slowly nodded. “Fantastic, the steps to recovery are rather simple, you and Wanda will be staying here for another day or so, or until the pain is completely gone. The two of you will need to make physical contact as much as possible, whatever form that takes is up to the two of you. Also scenting is known to ease the pain as well, or marking, which is known to relieve the pain immediately.”

“Um, I think I’ll just stick to physical contact, thanks. Is there anything else?” you asked, hoping to get a second to process everything.

“Not at the moment, some nurses will come back in shortly to do a check up and bring some food. Is there anything you need from me?”

“Nope,” you quickly stated. God, how you just wanted some peace and quiet, already feeling a headache start to fester but now you questioned whether it came from your annoyance or from your recent diagnosis.

“Alright, I’ll come back later to check and see how things are going. If you need anything let one of the nurses know,” the doctor said before him and the rest of the nurses left the room, leaving just you and Wanda alone once again.

The two of you stared at each other for a long minute, seeing who would break the ice. You were giving the alpha a cold stare, clearly making her uncomfortable seeing as she was giving you the same timid look whilst anxiously shifting her feet. You quickly got bored of the intimidation, turning around in the bed to lay down facing away from her. You hear her move but don’t realize how close she is until you can feel the bed dip from her taking a seat right next to you.

You freeze up, stopping yourself from wanting to move closer since the painful tingling was starting to come back and she was the only thing that would relieve the pain.

Wanda takes a deep breath before softly saying, “I’m sorry this is happening to you.”

Sorry? Why is she sorry? You both know she played no part in this happening to you. She doesn’t even know you, so why the hell should she care?

“Yeah,” you state coldly. You do not want to talk to her, you don’t even want to think about her. There were so many thoughts swirling through your head right now. Thoughts about why Wanda is here. Why did she come and help you? What’s in it for her? Thoughts that just keep contradicting each other. One part of you wants to get as far from Wanda as possible, while the stupid omega part of you wants her to get impossibly close because she just smells so good and having her hold you felt unbelievably nice. You had too much pride to just give in like that though, so even though it hurt you didn’t move.

She speaks again, “I’m glad you're getting better. We were all worried about you.”

“Why?” you say in the same tone as before.

“What?” Wanda asks, clearly confused.

“Why were you worried? Why do you care?” you say as you sit up to face her. You stare at her confused expression with a scowl.

“I- um, because you're my soulmate?” she says, even more confused than you. You knew she was going to say something along those lines and it did nothing but piss you off.

“So? You don’t know me! I could be a criminal! A murderer or, or, something! Why would you save someone you don’t even know?” you nearly yell at her. It pissed you off to no end. Why would she help someone let themselves get to this point? Someone who wouldn’t even take themselves to the doctor so as to not damage their pride.

Wanda’s face scrunches up in anger and comes back at you with the same amount of force, “What difference does any of that make? I would’ve helped you whether you were my soulmate or not, but it’s because you are that I was able to help you! Not only that, but it’s kind of in my biology to want to help you!”

“I don’t want your help!”

That seemed to have struck a nerve in Wanda because her face didn’t hold anymore anger, replaced with sadness as she seemed to shrink in on herself. Looking at you with confusion and grief, “Why?”

“Because I don’t know you! You might be fine with helping whoever, but I’m not fine with whoever helping me, especially not with the kind treatment I need!”

If your first statement didn’t hurt Wanda, this one certainly did. She looked down, fiddling with her hands. She looked like a kicked puppy. Maybe it was the omega side of you that was making you feel this way but, you couldn’t help feeling guilty looking at her. You could understand why she was upset to an extent, not only was it just pure instinct that made her want to care for you, but helping people was what she did for a living.

“Sorry, I just-“

“No, it’s okay. I understand,” she says as she looks up at you with a solemn smile.

Before either of you can say anything else, a nurse comes in with a tray of food. Wanda had moved to a chair near your bed so as to not be in the way of the nurse. She gives you the usual check up, making sure everything looks normal and noting the amount of pain you are in and giving you some medication to help the recovery process go a little bit faster. The nurse asks if you need anything and leaves you to your meal. It’s just a bowl of chicken noodle soup and a chocolate chip cookie, which you are glad for since you weren’t super hungry when you woke up. Although, this was a much more difficult task than it should be. You can hardly pick up a spoonful of the soup without your hand viscously shaking. Just as you're about to give up and just eat your cookie, Wanda moves to get up before sitting right back down.

You look at her with furrowed brows and ask, “What?”

She looks back up at you, “Oh-um, I was wondering if you wanted some help?”

You really don’t want to say yes, you want to be able to feed yourself without anyone's help. But you know you need to eat and that you can’t finish this soup on your own. You look back down at your bowl of soup and let out a small, “Yes.”

It’s easy to tell that she didn’t expect for you to say yes by the way she looks so pleasantly surprised. She comes over and sits on the side of the bed like before but slightly closer. You can tell she is trying to hide her smile but she is failing terribly. She grabs a bowl and leans in close, grabbing a spoonful of soup and guiding it to your mouth. You hadn’t been doted on like this since you were a child. Wanda was clearly enjoying this much more than you were, wiping the sides of your mouth with a napkin each time some soup dribbled out. While you weren’t enjoying this as much as Wanda seemed to have been, it admittedly felt nice. It was hard not to smile back at her when she looked so happy to be doing this and when you did her smile increased tenfold.

As you finished up the last of the soup you could feel yourself become drowsy but you knew you wouldn’t be able to fall asleep with the constant prickling on your skin. You watched Wanda take the bowl and clean up a little whilst you eat your cookie.

A flood of questions you did not know the answer to started coming back. Why was she cleaning up after you? What was in it for her? Why’d she look so happy when she was helping you? Why’d it feel so nice to have her help you? Could someone who felt so much enjoyment from helping you be that bad?

Would it really be that bad to let her help you?

It was so hard to find an answer to that question, feeling like the only reason your mind wants you near her is because of your genetics, not your actual feelings. You did not know Wanda Maximoff and from what the media thinks for her she does not seem like someone you’d want to be around. But if she was going to hurt you wouldn’t she have already? God. You felt like you had an angel on one shoulder and the devil on the other with your conflicting thoughts and questions about Wanda, and you couldn’t tell if the thoughts rooting for Wanda were from the angel or the devil.

Before you can start any more debate with yourself, Wanda turns back to you with a smile on her face and hands on her hips, looking proud to have helped. It took all of your willpower not to match her goofy grin. Wanda is about to say something before you let out a big yawn, closing your eyes and covering your mouth. She lets out a small giggle and you give her the stink eye.

“What’s so funny?”

“Sorry, I just- you're really cute when you yawn,” Wanda says with a giggle and smile.

That makes your face heat up a hundred degrees. As to not cause yourself any more embarrassment, you lay down in bed and face the opposite direction.

Wanda lets out a sigh before saying, “You're probably tired so you should get some rest and I’ll just stay in this chair. If you start feeling any pain again let me know.”

You can hear the chair scrape against the floor as Wanda takes a seat again. You can feel your eyes start to droop and desperately want to go to sleep but know from previous experiences that sleeping when it felt like someone was constantly pinching you all over your body was going to be a difficult task.

You were probably tossing and turning for 20 minutes before Wanda asked, “Are you okay?”

You let out a huff and start to grind your teeth. It’s not like you want to be in pain but how are you supposed to feel comfortable laying with someone you hardly know? Did you feel uncomfortable when you woke up though? She was so gentle when combing through your hair and she just smelt so-

“Kass?”

You look back at Wanda standing over you now looking at you with a soft but concerned expression. It feels as if the longer you look at her the more you want to be close to her, the more you want to be surrounded by her delicious scent. Without saying a word you turn back over and scoot further away from her, leaving enough space for her to slip into the bed behind you. When she doesn’t seem to get the hint, you look back at her and see her still standing there now looking confused with a small pout on her face. It is so hard to not smile at the cute expression she’s making, so you quickly turn back around and say, “Come on.”

Wanda then slips into the bed beside you and wraps her arms around you. You slightly maneuver yourself to get comfortable before stating, “Okay, some ground rules. No unnecessary touching and no scenting. Got it?”

“Got it. Anything else?” Wanda asks.

“Um, can you comb my hair with your fingers again? It, um, it felt nice.”

You can hear the smile in Wanda’s voice when she replies with, “Of course, sweetheart.”

Wanda’s fingers in your hair, her warmth and her scent fill your heart with such a warm sensation you can’t help but smile as you close your eyes and succumb to sleep faster than you’d ever had before.

#wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff x reader #omegaverse #abo au #alpha!wanda #omega!reader

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nevertheless-moving · 4 years ago

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Suicidal Misunderstanding XI

Part I - - - - - Part II - - - - - Part III - - - - - Part IV - - - - - Part V - - - - - Part VI - - - - - Part VII - - - - - Part VIII - - - - - Part IX - - - - - Part X

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

Anakin left his first ‘soul healing’ appointment feeling on edge. They hadn’t even discussed anything important! The healer mostly talked at him, giving him rules for future sessions. They had barely touched on the reason he was there, which was both a relief and slightly irritating. ...He was a little uncertain what to do with him time now.

Obi-Wan hadn’t responded to him at all during his visit that morning, laying motionless in an apparently self-induced coma, and he wasn’t allowed to sit with him again until the evening. He wasn’t allowed to look at anything to do with the war until Mace cleared him. Returning to his and Obi-Wan’s quarter’s was still unthinkable, even though he knew he’d have to go back at some point before Ashoka landed on planet.

The Chancellor had left him several messages inviting him for a visit, but he was dragging his feet, despite the serious temptation of an always comforting father-figure. The thought of actually seeing the man made him feel practically sick with anger and betrayal. Obi-Wan had been convinced that Palpatine was trying to tear them apart. And while Anakin didn’t quite believe that... he had told Obi-Wan about what he had done after his mother’s death. Maybe someday, when Obi-Wan was better, he would be able to believe it was all for the best, but for now...he was just angry.

He hadn’t really been angry at the man before, and didn’t enjoy the sensation.

Padme had told him she would be working from home as much as possible the next few days. While he didn’t want to be an annoyance, there wasn’t really anyone else he could turn to for advice or comfort right now, and she seemed almost as desperate for the reassurance of his company as he was of hers...and the Master of the Order seemed to at least tolerate their relationship, even if he didn’t know all the details.

He arrived at her apartment and promptly collapsed on the couch.

“Is it alright if I join you?” Padme asked softly.

Anakin smiled at her. “More than alright”

She sat down. He shifted so she could lean against him comfortably.

“Do you want to talk right now, or should I do some paperwork?” she asked neutrally.

He groaned. “It’s- I’m not sure if I’m being immature. Should I go see Palpatine?”

She stiffened. “The Chancellor? I- I thought we had specifically agreed not to talk about him if we could help it. Have his politics started to bother you?” she asked dryly.

He rolled his eyes. “No, I still believe he’s the best chance for ending the war quickly- you know my friendship with him is personal, not political.”

“This is a personal problem then. Does it...have something to do with Obi-Wan? Are you not supposed to tell him about- what happened?”

“No, I’m sure the council’s already informed him, he is the Chancellor, after all; they would have to tell him if a High General was out of commission,” he replied, a touch bitterly.

“But it does have something to do with Obi-Wan,” she nudged.

“Yeah. It- he was the one who told Obi-Wan. About me. With the Raiders.” he ground out, suppressing a flash of anger.

“Oh. Oh! I didn’t realize he knew. He- had he urged you to tell Obi-Wan before?” she asked, slightly guilty.

“No!” Anakin snarled back. “He swore to keep it a secret, told me that my revenge was justified.”

“I’m sorry- the Chancellor of the Republic told you that what you did was justified? Padme sounded shocked and Anakin turned to her with wide eyes.

“Do you...you told me you understood...but...we’ve never really talked about it since it happened, have we?” He replied miserably.

She pulled away, heart pounding. “Anakin...do you think what you did was justified?”

He looked down “At the time I told myself it was...but I don’t know. Even right after...I thought about the kids. You have no idea how much clearer everything seems when your channeling the force with anger even though afterwards...I told myself they were animals but...I...when I was talking to Obi-Wan I realized that...I think I was just scared that if the order ever found out I’d lose everything which made me angry...And the Chancellor agreed that animals sometimes needed to be put down...and you said you understood.” He looked up at her uncertain.

She let out a sigh of relief. Of course Anakin knew his action’s were wrong, if he was so torn up about it. She took his hands in hers, stroking softly.

“Anakin...I know it’s not exactly the same, but I do understand wanting revenge. I helped personally liberate and clean up many of the trade federation camps. I buried the rotting corpses of my people, who I left to die- then returned back to my office to watch Nate Gunray get out on parole. If someone had handed me the power to kill every single Neimodian at the right moment-” She let out a breath, seething.

“But...no one did. I couldn’t have gotten revenge like that, even if I had wanted to. And now...gods Anakin, understanding why isn’t the same as saying it’s justified- I might still hate the trade federation, but that doesn’t mean that every Neimoidian is guilt of their crime, no matter my personal feelings. I really, truly don’t know what to say about the Chancellor telling you what he did, or keeping your secret, or breaking your trust.”

They sat in silence for a moment as he digested everything.

“I...think I get what you mean about separating out justifying and understanding. Maybe that’s what he meant, and I just wasn’t smart enough to realize what he was saying at the time. I want to ask him, but I’m still mad and... I just don’t want to lose my friend because I’m angry.” he finished unhappily.

She sighed, then pressed a delicate kiss to his cheek.

“Then tell him that. Leave him a message. A friend would understand holding off a conversation while you’re upset. And a politician should certainly understand holding back your feelings so they don’t dictate your actions.”

He smiled at her, “How did you get so wise?”

“I was a Queen, you know,” she replied haughtily.

“Oh a Queen, I hadn’t realized, do forgive my impertinence,” he said cheekily, pulling her closer.

She pushed him back. “Message first. He’s almost certainly in a Senate committee meeting right now, it’s the perfect time.”

He relented. They briefly hashed out what he was going to say. Then she drifted to the other room while he pulled out his mobile official senatorial comm-link, biting his lip nervously.

Much to his dismay, the Chancellor picked up on the last ring, holo opening up.

“Anakin, my boy! So good to hear from you; I had been getting worried. How are you?

Steeling himself, Anakin launched into their prepared monologue.

“Chancellor, you of all people know that I struggle with anger; I’m trying to work on not allowing it to dictate how I act towards those I value. That being said, in the interest of preserving our friendship and until Obi-Wan is fully healed, I think it’s best we avoid unnecessary communications.”

“Anakin! I don’t-” Palpatine tried to reply, but Anakin cut him off.

“Thank you again for your understanding. I will of course diligently reply to any military or professional requests sent through the proper channels.”

Anakin closed the connection with a click, heart pounding. The comm immediately lit back-up.

“What do I do?” he asked Padme, feeling nauseous.

Was this the right choice? Surely his friend would understand. He didn’t want to yell at the Chancellor just because he was still working through Obi-Wan’s issues and his issues with Obi-Wan! Or was he just acting out of fear? Maybe the Chancellor could help.

He started to reach for the comm, but Padme snatched it from the table first. She threw it to the ground, delicately lifted the hem of her dress, then pierced it with the heel of her shoe. It stopped mid trill.

“Let’s go to bed.”

“I love you.” He replied, looking at her adoringly.

“I know.”

Next (Part XII)

#star wars #my au #suicidal misunderstanding au #star wars au no 27 #anidala #star wars au #TALK #ABOUT #YOUR #THOUGHTS #AND #FEELINGS #YOU #KRIFFING #IDIOTS #YES #YOU TOO #PADME

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poptod · 4 years ago

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hello! i'd like to make an ahkmenrah x reader request! maybe present-day reader gets teleported back in time to when ahkmenrah was alive and they eventually get to the palace and stuff happens? maybe they tell him about modern life? and maybe reader is unnaturally beautiful to the ancient egyptians because humans evolve to be more attractive as time goes on so a person from our time would be hot shit 4,000 years ago? this is long lmao. thanks!

Notes: god ive always wanted to do this kind of storyline but i was worried about like,, logic and stuff getting in the way of the storyline. anyway! i was so fucking elated to receive this request. i got a bit carried away so apologies! WC: 3.2k

Okay. It isn't that bad.

Would you ever see your family again? Probably not, but you weren't ruling the possibility out.

Would you ever get to have sour patch kids again? Probably not. But even during the time you lived in 2020, you had eaten more concentrated sour patch kids flavor than all of the people around you combined.

This little village on the outskirts of ancient Thebes is hardly L.A.––though that's probably a good thing––and is small enough for you to know every inhabitant. Your shop there is small to suit the town, and well known ever since your arrival in this time.

They found you beside the river, thought you to be a gift from the Gods. You were hazy, though––whatever had so forcefully pushed you back in time had made your head spin, making you sick and unbalanced. So, when they asked if you did in fact come from the Gods, you had no way of defending yourself either way. Generally you've been denying it––they think you are a god, and the only way you've convinced them you're not a god is by saying you're a gift from them. It explains the way you look, unnaturally beautiful and alien amongst the more pure genetics of earlier humans.

Your shop is pretty simple. You make portraits from paint, more realistic than anything else that exists, and it only affirms their belief in your god-like status. Fortunately word seems to not have gotten out––the village has remained small, and no one from Thebes has run into you. Every now and then you get unreasonably anxious that a noble will find you and turn you into a slave. It's a worry most people around you have, so you find comfort in the fact that you're not the only one. Still, you're not quite accustomed to such an atmosphere––the thought of nobles and Kings noticing you still sends terrified aches into your stomach.

It's about two weeks in that it gets bad. People start to pass by the village, more than you would've thought, and they're all looking to trade goods, food, and information. The people of the village talk about you––you're something interesting, you can't deny that, but they don't know just how worried you are. Whenever you see someone you don't recognize outside your home, you refuse to come out.

Five days later and there's soldiers in your home, looking over your paintings on their way back to Memphis from conquering the realm of Kush. You hold a deep contempt for them––you don't know all that much about history, but you know how Egyptian soldiers and Pharaohs reigned power over the people of Kush.

The soldiers aren't all that worrying. What really gets your heart pounding is the final man to enter your hut; a man bearing a crown and a long sword, with golden braces around his wrists and a chest plated in green scales. Your fingers dig into the wood of your counter when he notices you. The crown on his head––it's the crown of both upper and lower Egypt.

This is a Royal.

"Where did you learn this skill?" He asks you, eyes trained on one of your bigger drawings. It's just on papyrus––not for sale––and hung on the wall as a display of your talent.

"I spent a little while travelling the world," you answer. Technically, growing up in the modern world was a bit like travelling the world; you got to see the cultures and practices of many, many people. "The rest of it's practice."

"The peasants here, they... they claim you came from the Nile. Is that true?"

"Well... that is where I was found," you say carefully, but you can already tell you've fucked up. The look on his face is indescribable beyond the fact that he's pleased.

"How would you feel coming back to the capital with me?" He offers to you, setting his hands on the counter and leaning forward. "I think my father would much like to meet you."

"I – I don't think I'm really cut out for -"

"Nonsense," he dismisses with a smile, taking your hand from its' spot on the wood. "We shall teach you proper writing skills, give you a beautiful home, and the salary isn't horrid either."

You can't just say no. If you do, he's going to ask questions––he's going to get confused, and he's going to get suspicious. No one would turn down an opportunity like this; free schooling, free housing, and much more money for something you already do.

"Well... alright," you say quietly, looking to the home around you that you built with the help of the other villagers.

"Wonderful. My name is Kamun."

He's not a very nice person, you come to find. Or perhaps he's just not your tastes––the soldiers seem to like him well enough, at least the ones who aren't completely subordinate to him, but his attitude towards women and poor people is scathing to say the least. Otherwise he's very amusing, with a good sense of humor and quite generous with his food and wine as long as he gets his fill of it first.

The boat back to Memphis, where the royal family currently stays, is a long ride filled with various entertainments. It's clear these are not soldiers accustomed to rough conditions––the dancing women and flowing beer is enough to tell you that. Instead, you surmise these are faux war-heroes; people adored in their hometown for doing nothing but intimidating others in a foreign country. They try to get cushy with you, soften you up to their words and touches. It doesn't work.

He keeps you close to him. You let him do it, sort of––it's better than telling him no. Better than starting a ruckus. Then again, avoiding a ruckus is what got you here in the first place, standing before the doors of the courtroom where a false God on earth rules the Nile.

"Father, I bring you a gift from Thebes," says Kamun, pushing you forward by the small of your back. You can't bring yourself to meet the Pharoah's eye, so you fall to your knees and bow.

Everyone is staring at you. You don't look normal, and they all know it, and you know it. You could cry from the heat of their eyes on your back.

One of Kamun's soldiers steps forwards, handing the Pharaoh and his wife several of the drawings they'd taken from you. Silence passes as the two scan your work.

"How did you achieve such a mirror of the human face?" The Pharaoh asks in a slow, deep voice that sounds as he looks––old, weathered, wise.

"They came from the Nile," Kamun answers for you, and murmurs take the crowd by storm. You, on the other hand, feel your heartbeat increase in massive increments, speeding your already uneven breath. "A gift from the Gods, the locals said."

"I can't – I am not magic," you rush out, hoping your clarification clears you of any responsibility to the Pharaoh. You know he rules everything––if he says you are to stay here, you have no choice, and you don't like it here. Too many people. "I cannot give you anything, my King."

"I think you're lying," says a voice, its' tone soft and a velvet low. It catches you off guard, brings you to raise your head and meet the eyes of someone you don't know; a young man dressed in gold beside the Pharaoh's throne.

You almost lose your breakfast as your eyes bulge, your mind instantly recognizing him and connecting the dots. You were, by far, not a historian, but you knew a fair amount of Egyptian history––namely a family in the Old Kingdom who was headed by the Pharaoh Merenkahre. The remaining statues and busts of the King and his son are astonishingly accurate, and there can be no doubt in your head.

That being said, there also can't be any reaction on your face. You try your best to reign your expression in.

"I..."

Actually, you do have something to offer now. You know the names––memorized the history, committed each event to memory, and now you can pull their lifestory off from the top of your head. Wouldn't that be valuable to a King; a seer of the future, to predict the rise and fall of the economy and the coming armies. Besides, you can't just say he's wrong. That'd be treasonous to them. So you have to agree you're hiding something, come up with an excuse as to why you hid it, and it proves harder than you thought. You're quickwitted, though––it got you away from the villager's wrath, and it will promote you to noble living now.

You hide a smirk beneath a calm expression as you address the younger prince.

"They gifted me foresight," you say quietly, pretending as though it hurts you to tell the truth, "but told me to never inform others."

"You are in the presence of Ra once more," the Pharaoh reminds you.

"And others," you point out. "I would... it would be better to discuss such matters.. in private."

Detailed information about already-past events is enough to sway him to believe you. The Pharaoh is surprisingly easy to convince, and with a few, meaningless predictions of the future, he gives you housing in his own palace. Kamun looks proud of himself––puffs his chest out in front of his father and earns no compliment. Ire laces his glare as it falls upon his brother, Ahkmen, praised for his ability to see through your obvious lie.

The Pharaoh asks his younger son to guide you to your room. Apparently it's closer to his room than it is to Kamun's, and evening is approaching fast. The walk there, while short, is marked by a conversation composed mainly of Ahkmen's questions and your answers. When the two of you reach your room, he doesn't leave––actually, he follows you in and locks the door.

There's nothing more terrifying than a man with unchecked power, and there is no one watching you.

No fail safe.

You gulp.

"I know you're still not telling the truth," he says, and though it dismisses several of your worries it still begs the question; how did he notice? "Just thought I'd spare you the embarrassment in front of my father, but my generosity ends there. Now I won't hurt you, and I won't tell anyone––I'm just curious."

Oh thank fuck. He's not going to rape you.

"I'm not Egyptian," you blurt out.

"Obviously," he interrupts, but you glare him into raising his hands defensively.

"I'm from the future."

He stares at you. For a minute. You know this because you count it––he just pauses right in his stance, doesn't move, and stares at you for a whole minute like you just told him you're made of gold.

"I'm sorry, what?" He says, laughter suddenly wracking his body.

"It's how I know what's going to happen to your family," you say, hoping he'll believe you. Otherwise this handsome, seemingly-nice man is going to think you're insane for the rest of time. "I studied your family for years as a side-hobby, I don't know how to predict the future for anything but you and your father."

His laughing pauses, or lightens at least; enough for him to say, "actually?"

"Yes," you say, completely serious. This seems to gain his interest once more. "You have to help me. I know at some point people are going to ask me questions about other things and I'm not going to have an answer."

"Just do what all our priests do," he says with a chuckle.

"What do they do?"

"Lie," he says. You can't stop the grin that spreads across your face from the stupid joke, and when he sees that a shit-eating grin spreads across his own face, delighted he could make you laugh.

"Yes, well... I guess I could do that," you mumble in a laugh.

"There's no need for you to worry. Now that I know the truth, I can help you," he says, offering you something that takes nearly all the anxiety out of your brain. After two days travel with a prince, it feels like it took 50 pounds off your shoulders.

"Thank you, so much," you chuckle in relief.

"Of course. I do have questions though, and I want you to answer them."

"Anything."

These questions of his, they come at all times––almost at a constant rate when he takes you on long walks, which he does often. He passes it off to his father as an interest in your beauty, and it apparently works. This little lie also helps you enormously in avoiding the romantic advances of many of the people you come into contact with. You're still not quite sure how it works, since Egyptians supposedly had a strong sense of patriotism, but you look rare and they idolize it. Every eye that falls upon you sees something beautiful, and you can't understand it.

At least Ahkmen is normal. He doesn't talk about you being beautiful. Ever.

And it kind of makes you sad.

"Would you say people on the whole are happier in the future or in the past?" He asks you, his words surrounded by the warmth of a summer day in Egypt.

Birds chatter loudly in the trees around you, singing in the humid air that marks the mating season for many of them. The flowers that surround you are already familiar––you thought it would take longer for you to commit the shapes and colors to memory, but here you are. Dressed in gold-laced silk and turquoise necklaces.

"I think the happiness of a population is dependent entirely on the circumstances surrounding it," you say. Sometimes your answers relate more to the human condition than the progress of time on the human race; he likes these answers, too, so you tell him exactly what you think. "Six thousand years from now, there are times of great misery. One is even called the Great Depression, but five years before that were some of the most prosperous times my country had ever seen. The same cycle is evident here."

"So.. great misery and great happiness come in waves?" He asks, pace slowing as he tries to understand what you're saying. You pause along the pathway, allowing him space to think.

"It's a pattern, actually. When the economy goes up, it will always come down. Recessions happen right after economical booms. And yes," you say before he can ask, "a time of unease will follow the prosperity of the current years. But it won't be for a time yet."

"Will it happen in my lifetime?"

He's murdered about three years from now. You think you might be able to stop it, but if you do, it'll alter history quite a lot. Either way, he wouldn't live long enough to see the recession the building of the great pyramids caused.

"No," you say. "But I'd prepare for it anyway, if only to keep your citizens safe."

"Of course. You... you are a great scholar," he tells you, resuming the slow walk down the shore of the Nile.

"Oh. Uh, thank you," you mumble as a blush fills your cheeks.

"What did you do in your time?"

"I was an artist, but I spent a lot of time giving lectures on the role of autistic people in ancient Egypt. Autistic people are often timekeepers," you say, and you know he'll figure out what you mean. Autistic isn't a term here, but many timekeepers of these ancient times were autistic, and considered highly by their societies.

"You might be able to give lectures again, if you'd like," he suggests. "People would come from far and wide to hear you speak. And you've got things to say that I know many scholars will find interesting."

"Mmm," you wince, "I kind of want to stay away from altering history too much."

"Oh, yes. My apologies," he says in a softer voice.

"It's alright," you say. "I'm glad you think I would be a good choice for that kind of thing, though."

He chuckles bashfully as he turns to the ground, scuffing his sandals as he walks.

Ahkmen is sweet––much sweeter than any of his family members, and you find yourself appreciating that every time you pass by his room. You pass his door often, always stopping a second to contemplate the tall, wooden doors. He's on the pathway between your room and the library.

Most of the time he's not in his room. Actually, you can usually find him in the library––there or outside in the markets or near the stalls. Today is different; he's been missing all day, and only when you walk the path back to your room do you hear his voice, talking to himself in his bedroom.

"They're bombarded with just such compliments, though. I can't – I can't stand out!"

"Or maybe you should, because you still haven't said a single thing yet and they probably think you're completely uninterested and that's why they aren't noticing you?"

"You and your... logic," Ahkmen spits.

"Come complaining when you kiss them under my advice."

As you attempt to peek through the crack in the door you stumble, knocking your hand against the wood. You barely hesitate before knocking again––cool and collected, smooth to slip into another lie.

"Oh! Hello, um – hi," he says awkwardly, slipping out of the room when he sees you. He quickly closes the door behind him, careful to keep you from seeing the other person in his room, but you can't bring yourself to care about the stranger.

Think of an excuse, why am I here?

"Oh, that's... I like your flower," he comments softly, eyes flickering between your eyes and the flower tucked into your hair. You'd forgotten about it, but raised your hand to touch the petals as you smiled. The perfect excuse

"Thank you. I thought you might like it, so I," you take it out of your hair and grab his hand, holding his palm upwards, "wanted to show you.. um, here."

Setting the flower in his hand, you curl his fingers around its' stem and push his hands back into his chest. He stares at you for a moment, confused by your strange behavior, but accepting of your gift anyway. You know him well enough now––he'd never decline a gift from you.

"A white iris," he tells you in a lofty tone. "A symbol of the dead. Funny it looks so lively on you."

You need to get out of here before your chest combusts.

"I need to go now, but I'll see you this evening, yes?" You ask, stepping instinctively closer. He doesn't back away.

"Of course. And, um," he takes your hands, keeps you where you stand as he slips the flower back behind your ear, "keep it. I want to see it on you at dinner."

He's close to you––close enough that it gets hard to distinguish his breath from your own, when you started holding his hand. When his other came up to your face. When he leans in and kisses your forehead. It's barely there, just barely, but there's no mistaking the soft plush, the affection clear behind gentle, precise movements.

You rush away the second he lets your hands go.

#ahkmenrah x reader #rami malek

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aquarianlights · 4 years ago

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I am in a serious financial bind. 😥 If anyone is in a position to listen & help or signal boost, pls keep reading...

This is from my apartment complex. I am in low-income housing. I called them & sent them proof I could pay on the 23rd. I told them I could (just barely) put 100 down now & they said that was too little.

They said they would file for eviction on the 16th, which adds $150 to my rent. They will cancel the court date and eviction on the 23rd when I pay.

But that doesn't cancel the $150 filing fee.

Idk where that $150 would come from. Idky they think it's fair that someone who cannot pay should be forced to pay even more??? That makes no sense. I can only just barely afford my rent every month as is.

These are from my energy company. I apparently owe them over $600. I genuinely do not know how this happened. We were on the phone for a very long time trying to figure it out & I was in tears for the latter portion of it because I swear I paid.

I usually keep record of my payments via taking a picture of my receipt since they are electronic, but my dog chewed up my phone (which I have pics of if need be for evidence) and broke it, so I had to get a replacement phone sent to me from the insurance company & nothing transferred from the old phone, so all my pics were wiped.

I found no record in my emails, either.

The meds I am taking to try to go into remission and the autoimmune disease itself both cause brain fog and issues with time warping, so it is possible maybe I skipped a month or something, but I highly doubt I would have skipped up to 600+ dollars worth of payments.

I have tons of electronic and hard copy calendars & they are all synced and constantly updated so that I know when payments are due. I also have text and email reminders sent to me, but I could find no reminders in my email for MONTHS now until they were telling me they were going to shut my power off if I didn't pay this. Idk why I was not sent reminders for months???

In the end, I agreed to set up a payment plan. Paying, like... 50-60ish on top of whatever my electric bill is every month for 12 months. It was the lowest they could go.

I can barely afford my electric bill as it is, so idk how I will be able to do this? They did give me a list of charities in my area so I will be using what little energy I have to call around & see if any of them would be willing to help me pay this. Idk how those work (they're mostly churches???), so I'm just gonna try & see what happens. 🤔

On top of all that, I *think* this is telling me my Medicaid has been cancelled but I'm not 100% sure?????

I'm going through treatment for a very serious, disabling problem that should last ~1 year and rn Medicaid is picking up what my Medicare doesn't cover and some of my doctors/specialists and treatments are medicaid only.

If I lose this, I'm basically done.

I know they'll do backpay if I get it back, but Idk if I *will* get it back. I'll be trying to get it back, but in the meantime, I guess I'll just have to pay out of pocket, idk??? Which I do not have.

I have lost almost ALL autonomy due to this autoimmune disease, which (in a very simplified form) is basically my immune cells "eating" my muscle tissue. I can barely get out of bed. Treatment should put me in remission & give me my life back. I am seeing a rheumatologist, neurologist, dermatologist, PCP, physical therapist, psychiatrist, psychologist, and going to a holistic pain treatment center that does a different kind of physical therapy to bring down pain levels (which I was put into that program by my rheum). All of these are in relation to & necessary for my disease. I am going through TONS of testing almost weekly now & trying out treatments like IVIG and chemo where I am in the hospital hooked up to an IV for 4-6+ hrs of that day and the cost of those things without Medicaid picking up what Medicare doesn't cover is astronomical. I have to sign waivers every time I get my blood drawn (which is almost weekly now), do tests, and do treatments saying I will pay if Medicaid does not pick up the extra.

I already have crippling medical debt; I don't need more. I'm scared they won't let me do any more tests or treatments if they see I am just letting it all go to collections & am not paying.

This could mean the difference between having a life worth living (to me) where I am happy & thriving & autonomous or being bed-bound & living a life of just existing from day to day & miserable & in pain & suffering & unable to do anything for myself. This is literally life and death for me because I wouldn't be able to handle continuing to live in the latter scenario. I cannot handle living like I am now. Knowing my treatments are progressing is what keeps me going. Knowing I can go into remission is what keeps me going. Knowing my future is one completely different from now is what keeps me going. But if I cannot have that and am destined to live in this current state, it's just not worth it. I don't know a person alive who would want to live like this.

Finally, my anger noodle needs to get to the vet for MULTIPLE things. Nothing is, like... life threatening or super immediate like his cancer was last year, but they're things that need to be addressed in terms of preventative care & to make sure he isn't in pain.

He needs his trachea checked, possibly x-rays for that, maybe more...

He needs some medication updates, needs a physical, needs a full groom & nail clip under anesthesia (for those who are not familiar with Echo, he has extreme fear-based aggression & usually gets this done under anesthesia; since I worked with him so much, he had his first non-anesthesia nail clip at the beginning of quarantine, but he has gotten worse during quarantine & with my muscle eating disease, I can no longer restrain him & don't have the physical strength to run a brush through his thicker fur as his winter coat is in, so I can no longer groom certain areas of him at home, so his tummy & back legs are matted & I fear he may need to be shaved... which breaks my heart since you don't shave double coat dogs unless medically necessary.), he needs a full physical, & needs to be checked over for MCT's.

He may also need a fecal test or something else, as he has been having odd bowel movements. 😥 His tummy has been upset lately.

I have been crying myself to sleep every single night & often during the day because I cannot get him to the vet. No, it isn't urgent or life threatening. But he is reverse sneezing more than normal & I worry about tracheal collapse, which is a common small dog thing & even MORE common in pomeranians specifically. Every time he has a fit, I think "Oh god, this is it. This is the time I'm gonna have to rush him to the e-vet & get slammed with a huge bill & he is not gonna be okay..."

It breaks my heart to see his legs & belly matted. He is horrible about letting me groom him coz of his aggression so he only gets a full grooms at the vet, but I do short grooming sessions at home with him nightly. Takes about 2 hours just to do the majority of one side of him (not even all of it; just most) coz he needs breaks & lots of praise every few strokes or he will tear me to shreds & hurt himself snapping on the undercoat rake. 😥

But now that my autoimmune disease has atrophied my muscles to the point holding up my phone without something to prop it up feels like I am lifting weights & tires my arms out with a lactic acid burn & pain, I can no longer groom him with the patience he needs & can only groom in 20 minute intervals at the VERY longest. By the time I have gotten one leg done during the week, his entire other side is matted. 😞 Matting on dogs---especially double coat dogs---hurts them. It's like if someone were to wrap your hair around their fingers & then pull it taut. It's a constant pulling pressure on their skin... it's painful & irritates the epidermis. I feel miserable feeling the matting on his back legs & tummy & now feeling the mats beginning to form on the rest of him. He hates me working them out, even with the detangling spray. I know it must hurt so much...

So he may need to be shaved at this point & that will destroy me. I feel sick thinking about it. But anything to get him out of pain. Maybe it is what's best for him while I go through this year of treatment & get my muscles back. But in order to do that, I need to get him to the vet.

The stress of not being able to get him to a vet is tearing me apart & literally making me physically ill.

He is my world. My everything. My #1. My heart dog. My priority in life. My entire universe revolves around him. I would do anything for him. Not a single person, animal, thing, etc, comes before him. It is KILLING me that I cannot provide proper care for him right now. I always always always make sure to sacrifice for him if need be & his things ALWAYS come first, even if it means I'm not eating or not paying bills or whatever. As long as he is taken care of & his needs & wants are met, nothing else matters to me. And right now........ I feel he is suffering because of my finances & the fact my treatment with building my muscles up is not going fast enough.

I cannot control the latter one, but the first one is something I can at least ask for help for. So that is what I am doing.

If anyone is in a place to help, these are my venmo & cashapp codes. I also have paypal.

💙 Venmo: @kqroswell

💚 Cashapp: $kqroswell

💜 Paypal: @kqroswell or [email protected]

If there is another form of payment you're thinking of, lemme know. I also have fb pay activated if you have me on FB (Killian Q Roswell).

Thank you to everyone who read through this & anyone who can help or reblog this. 💖

Sincerely,

Your v scared, struggling transman who really wants his bills/rent paid & his dog to go to the vet,

Killian 💞

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sukifans · 4 years ago

Text

PET • RI • CHOR

[n] a pleasant smell that accompanies the first rain after a long period of warm, dry weather

ZUKO X OC SERIES

SUMMARY: a captured waterbender and the fire prince may sound like an unlikely pair, but kena never much cared about others’ expectations and zuko, well… he was just along for the ride

⏎ MASTERLIST // PART II « PART III » PT IV

Zuko was starting to enjoy his life in Ba Sing Se a lot more now that Kena was a part of it. She liked to visit him during his shifts to sit and do her coursework. Even though they didn’t get to talk much while they were both busy, he liked just knowing she was nearby. She radiated a calming energy from her table in the corner that seemed to make difficult customers and broken teacups a thousand times more bearable. In slower moments he found himself studying her — how her brow furrowed in concentration, the way she chewed her bottom lip, when she tapped her pen against the table as she read, and (his favorite) the small smile that her lips quirked into whenever she looked up and caught him staring at her. Uncle teased him mercilessly and almost always wore a knowing smirk, but it was okay because it made Kena laugh. Hearing her laugh after all these years was his favorite sound in the world and he tried to hear it as often as he could.

Kena liked to coax him out of the apartment when he wasn’t working. She claimed he still looked a little worse for wear after his travels and sulking inside certainly wouldn’t help with that. He complied easily, of course — she didn’t know it, but he thought he’d do pretty much anything for her. He was firmly wrapped around her little finger and, honestly, he didn’t mind all that much. That particular day they were both free and she had decided to take him up to the Middle Ring to visit one of the nicer parks. They sat in a large open field, leaning against a tree trunk in the shade of the foliage and relaying their stories from the years apart. She was trying to teach him how to weave a flower crown like she’d learned from a group of singing nomads but he was pretty miserable at it.

“Don’t laugh at me,” he muttered when he caught her grinning at his lopsided attempt that looked nothing like a crown, even by the loosest definition.

“You’re tying them together wrong. Look-“ she said. She leaned over and slowly showed him the proper knot. His brow furrowed as he watched her nimble fingers wrap and pull at the stems, resulting in a perfect two-piece chain amongst his many attempts.

“I don’t think this is salvageable, Kena.” He looked irritated, dropping it in his lap. She picked it up and pulled it over her head, setting it on her shoulders.

“Maybe not as a crown, but it makes a very lovely necklace, I think.” He smiled at her.

“That’s not saying much. You could make a rice sack look good.”

“Oh, uh... thanks, Zuko,” she responded, taken off guard by the compliment. She looked down at her hands as her cheeks warmed. They sat quietly for a bit, enjoying the gentle breeze on the warm day. She was surprised when Zuko shifted to lay down and set his head on her lap. When he noticed her wide eyes, he sat up again.

“Sorry, was that okay?”

She nodded. “Yeah, it just... surprised me, is all. Lay back down.” She put her hand on his shoulder and guided him back down. Grinning, she set the intricate crown of white and yellow flowers she’d made on top of his face. He squinted up at her. “A crown fit for a prince,” she declared. He rolled his eyes.

“I don’t think this is how crowns are meant to be worn,” he said.

“Forgive me, my liege.” She bowed her head dramatically. “Us common folk know not of such things.” She laughed when he groaned and closed his eyes, moving the flowers to sit on his chest instead. He sighed contentedly when she started playing with his hair, twisting the short strands between her fingers. Cautiously and delicately as one would handle a butterfly’s wing, she ghosted her fingertips over his scar, sending a not-unpleasant shiver down his spine. He cracked one eye open to be met with her questioning gaze.

“My father,” he said in response to her unasked question. He closed his eye again as she frowned and moved her hand back to his hair. “Uncle let me sit in on a war meeting and I spoke out of turn. I questioned one of the generals’ tactics and got challenged to an Agni Kai for my disrespect. I thought I’d be fighting the general, but since I had spoken out in the Fire Lord’s war room, it was my father. I refused to fight and begged for his mercy. He... did not forgive so easily, and- ow, Kena.” Zuko opened his eyes fully when she tugged too hard at his hair.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, dropping her hands. “I just- hmph.” She clenched her fists and sucked in a deep breath to calm herself. “I’m fine. Keep going. How did you end up in Ba Sing Se?”

“Well, I was banished after the Agni Kai. Uncle came with me — thank Agni, I think I would’ve been dead ages ago if he hadn’t — and we’ve been... traveling for the last three years. I think Uncle got sick of being on the move all the time, so now we’re here, I guess.” He carefully avoided mentioning his hunt for the Avatar. He didn’t want Kena to know that side of him because it might push her away. He desperately wanted to be the person she thought he was and he was terrified of losing her again. She was the best thing to happen to him in a very long time. Kena could sense wasn’t telling her something, but she knew better than to push him. He’d obviously been through a lot, and she wanted to be a positive force in his life. Positive forces don’t pry. He would tell her when he was ready.

“What about your mother?” She felt him tense up and she slowly began carding her fingers through his hair again, weaving small individual flowers into the inky black.

“What about her?”

“Did she try to stop the Agni Kai?”

He squeezed his eyes shut again and sighed heavily. “She left when I was eleven. I haven’t seen her in years. I don’t know why, or what happened, or even if she’s still alive, but I know she’s gone because of him.”

“And Azula?” She frowned at his scoff. “I know you two never got along, but she’s still your sister.”

“She only got worse as we got older. She was practically jumping for joy when I was banished because she could be Father’s little pet in peace without her failure of a brother around.” His voice was filled with bitterness as he spoke about his sister, mouth twisted into a deep frown.

“You’re not a failure,” Kena said gently.

“Only you and Uncle seem to think so.”

“Well, that’s because we’re smart. I’m quite proud of you, actually.”

He looked at her suspiciously. “For what?”

“For not going back. It’s very brave of you. You grew up sheltered in the palace and then were thrust out into the world with nothing after losing everything you knew. It’s admirable, how you kept going.”

Zuko felt his stomach churn uneasily. She was too confident in him, too ready to believe that he was as good and strong as he pretended to be. He felt sick lying to her but he knew he would feel much worse if she left.

When he was silent, she continued. “It’s difficult to go through all that and still make an effort to be kind.”

“I don’t think that’s how many people would describe me.”

“You’re a bit grumpy and gloomy, sure,” she laughed at his offended look, “but I think you’re very sweet.”

He ignored the warmth flooding his face. “It’s easy to be nice to a person like you.”

She smiled. “Kindness, compassion, empathy — they are all choices you have to make. If they were easy, the world wouldn’t be in a century-long war.”

“I’ve done a lot of bad things in the past.”

“We all have. We are products of our circumstances. Your whole life you’ve suffered and yet you’re still a good person.”

“I don’t think I’m a good person.”

“Well, I do. Good people make bad choices, too. Being good doesn’t mean being perfect.”

He avoided her eyes, focusing on ripping up the blades of grass. “You sound like Uncle.”

“Like I said, we’re smart.” She used the pad of her finger to smooth the lines between his brow, rubbing away his anxious look. They were silent again for a few minutes while he mulled over her words. She could tell he was deep in thought, so she just continued her ministrations on his hair while she waited for him to speak again.

When he did, his voice was soft. “My father used to say that Azula was born lucky, and I was lucky to be born.”

“What an idiotic thing to say,” she said simply. His eyes snapped up to her. He’d forgotten just how blunt she could be.

“Excuse me?”

“I think you’re luckier being you than her.”

“She’s a prodigy. She’s always been his favorite.”

“Yes, and where has that gotten her? Azula is still a child and yet she’s been driven to the brink of insanity trying to be good enough for your father but she never will be.”

“She was loved.”

“She was used. You were loved, Zuko. What about Iroh? Your mother? Me?” When he didn’t answer, she shook her head. “What your father gives her, that’s not love. You have both suffered at his hands, but you have people who love you. Azula doesn’t have love, she has fear. I feel bad for her. I hope one day she finds peace within herself. I hope she learns to love and be loved.” She propped her elbows on her knees and held her head in her hands, leaning over his face as her hair fell around them and shielded them from the rest of the world.

“You loved me?” he asked quietly, staring up into her eyes in amazement. Her heart broke a little at the shock in his expression.

“Of course I did. I’ve always loved you.”

His pulse raced at her words and he leaned up on his elbows to get closer, examining her face for signs of deception. All he saw was the gentle smile that graced her pretty mouth, the raised white scar stark against her brown skin, her soft grey eyes that beckoned him in. He could stare at her until he went crosseyed, memorizing every detail. She’d been cute when they were kids, sure, but now... he thought she might be the most breathtaking person he’d ever seen. His gaze flicked down to her lips and he thought about kissing her.

Before he could move she was shifting to stand, grabbing his hands and pulling him up to his feet as well. She propped the crown she’d made him onto the tangled nest of black hair and tiny wildflowers on top of his head before dragging him out of the shade and into the bright afternoon sun. She sighed happily before flopping down in the grass again to lay on her back, stretching languidly like a cat in the warm rays.

“Come on, fire boy; you need some sun. You still look sickly.” She patted the ground next to her and bent her other arm behind her head.

“That’s just my skin... water girl,” he muttered, rolling his eyes as he laid anyways when Kena laughed at his weak retort. She slid her hand over his and laced their fingers together. His palm radiated warmth into hers. She smiled and closed her eyes, tilting her head into the sunshine. His eyes devoured her, admiring the way the light bounced off her high cheekbones and silhouetted the slope of her nose and the gentle curve of her lips. She felt his stare and opened one eye.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

Like you love me, she wanted to say. “Like a weirdo,” she joked instead, poking her tongue out at him playfully. His huff of annoyance was betrayed by the small smile he couldn’t fully hide. They laid there for a while, just staring at each other and basking in the other’s presence with their hands still clasped between them. She scanned his face unabashedly. Anger still bubbled in her core when she saw his scar, only to be assuaged by the way his honey-colored eyes seemed to glitter and glow in the sun. There were no words in any language sufficient to describe how they felt being together again, but they didn’t need words. All that mattered was that it was the best and most content either of them had felt in years. Her heart felt remarkably full when he kept her hand squeezed tightly in his as they made their way back to the Lower Ring in the orange glow of the setting sun.

“Oh, I almost forgot to tell you the news,” he said suddenly, stopping in his tracks. She looked back at him with raised eyebrows, signaling him to continue. “Some men came by the tea house yesterday afternoon and offered Uncle the chance to start his own shop in the Upper Ring.”

She frowned. “What’s the catch?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “but they offered him total creative control and a new apartment for us. He agreed.”

“Oh,” she said hollowly, “that’s nice.” She dropped his hand and turned to keep walking, looking troubled. Surprised at her reaction, Zuko jogged to fall back in step next to her. He hadn’t meant to upset her.

“What’s wrong? I thought you’d be happy to hear that. It’s just like we used to talk about as kids, remember?” She sighed.

“I am happy. It’s just... I won’t be able to see you in the Upper Ring.”

“What? Why not?”

“People down here need a passport and approval to get up there. I don’t have either.”

“Oh,” he echoed her from earlier.

“Yeah.” They stopped outside her apartment and Kena avoided meeting his eyes. “But I am happy for you and Iroh. You both deserve better than this.”

He shook his head. “I don’t want it unless you’re with me. I can’t lose you now. Not again.”

She ignored the way her pulse jumped. “I’ll be okay.”

“I know you will, but I won’t. I- I need you, Kena,” he admitted, voice soft. “Finding you here is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Zuko...”

“Come with us,” he said suddenly, standing in front of the entrance to her building and taking both her hands in his. She sent him a sad sort of smile.

“I can’t just up and leave, even though I want to stay with you.”

“Why?”

“What about Fera? She’s been with me since my mom died. I go to school, I have friends, a job... I’ve been here for years. I had to make a life for myself.” She felt bad when the excitement fell from his face, but she couldn’t just give up the little illusion of normalcy and stability she’d built here in the Lower Ring. It was what she’d craved after a life as a political prisoner and on the run with her mother, on her own, or with Fera.

“You’re right,” he finally said. “I’m sorry, that was selfish. I understand.” She stepped forwards and hugged him, burying her face into his neck and soaking in his warmth like she’d done in the sun earlier. Though he’d tensed at first, he slowly wrapped his arms around her in return and held her tight. He’d buried his craving for friendly, loving touch after his mother left and now that she was here again and offering it so freely, so genuinely, he felt the walls he’d built around himself crumbling. It scared — no, it terrified him to sense himself becoming more vulnerable again (something that had for so long felt all too much like weakness). If he had to be weak for someone, though, he was glad it was for Kena. She was one of only two people in his life who had never hurt him or lied to him or left him (she didn’t leave him, he’d rationalized long ago; she’d been taken away).

“You can still come see me down here,” she mumbled into his skin. “People of the Upper Ring can travel as they please.”

“Yeah, I’ll do that. I’ll come see you every day, even if it’s just for a little while.”

“Zuko, you don’t have to-“

“I know, but I want to. I don’t want to go another day without seeing you ever again.”

“So dramatic.” She rolled her eyes as she pulled back but beyond her teasing tone he could sense her gratitude.

“I’ve been told,” he chuckled.

“I’ll miss seeing you at Pao’s, though. You always looked so cute in your apron.”

His face went crimson. “I am not cute,” he muttered as she giggled.

“Are you hungry? You can come up for dinner, if you’d like.”

“I promised Uncle I’d help him make roast duck tonight to celebrate the new shop. Thanks, though. Another night,” he said as he stepped back from her. She smiled.

“Sure. I’ll see you tomorrow, then. I want to come by in the morning to see you and Iroh off before you move up the social ladder.”

He nodded in agreement and started to leave, but not before she grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him close again to kiss his cheek. She giggled when he flushed again, just as red as the day he gave her that fire lily. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, then mumbled something about seeing her tomorrow and hurried away as she laughed. She loved how easy it still was to get him flustered.

A sense of guilt gnawed away at his stomach as he walked back to his apartment. He felt bad about lying to her again, but he couldn’t exactly mention his plan to steal the sky bison as a means to capture the Avatar without admitting what he’d done over the last few years. He felt so conflicted as the two sides of him tore further apart — the side that wanted to be who Kena and Iroh thought him to be, and the side that still wanted to prove everyone wrong by bringing the Avatar back to the Fire Nation. Maybe he could make Kena understand; maybe she’d even go back with him. If he fulfilled his destiny, surely his father would let her stay.

When Kena made her way up to Zuko and Iroh’s apartment early the next morning, she found it already deserted. She frowned as she left, wandering into the street outside. Had she missed them already? Did they leave the night before for some reason? She couldn’t imagine why Zuko would lie to her about something so silly. All she wanted was to say goodbye, whether or not they were actually moving to the Upper Ring.

She walked to Pao’s and asked if he had seen them. At the mention of “Mushi,” the man went into a long-winded spiel about loyalty and betrayal that left her regretting her decision to ask. As politely as she could manage, she excused herself and left the premises. She desperately wished she could talk openly to someone about everything going on. At this point, she’d made up so many fake identities and backstories that it was sometimes hard to keep straight what was real and what was false, and who could know what about her various personas. At one point she’d considered writing it all down somewhere but that would be difficult to explain should anyone stumble across it. Only Fera knew what was happening, and even she was still in the dark about some things. Feeling a familiar sting of loneliness, Kena resigned herself to returning home to wait for Fera to get back from work so she could vent for a while.

Iroh sat by Zuko’s side for the entirety of the day, unable to sleep despite being awake through the night at Lake Logai. He watched his nephew twitch and sweat in his feverish dream state, pressing cloths soaked in cool water to his forehead through the hours. He could hardly even enjoy his tea as he waited for the prince to awaken. Every time his breathing changed, the older man would sit up at attention, watching with baited breath. It now neared sunset, and Zuko had still not opened his eyes.

Watching the sky change color through the window, he thought about rumors he had heard amongst the peoples of the Lower Ring about a benign spirit that visited at night. If one left a white candle burning in the window with a strip of blue cloth hung nearby, she was said to appear and heal the sick and injured. The people called her Tui’s Daughter. The stories reminded him vaguely of the legend of the Painted Lady from the Fire Nation. As he lit the candle, he hoped she would happen through the Upper Ring this night. Perhaps a visit from a spirit is exactly what the prince needed to help along his inner turmoil.

No matter what she did, Kena seemed entirely unable to fall asleep. She tossed and turned in her cot for what seemed like hours to no avail. Something still felt wrong about Zuko’s sudden disappearance, even after talking with Fera about how flaky and dishonest men could be. It was like an itch in the back of her skull that she couldn’t scratch and it her made her antsy and restless. She sighed in resolution and abandoned her attempts at sleep to dress in the bright moonlight pouring in through the window. She had to know he was alright, even if that meant he’d abandoned her.

As she came to the wall that closed off the Upper Ring, she kept to the shadows. The area was crawling with guards and surely Dai Li agents to keep the elite of Ba Sing Se secure and comfortable. She’d snuck into the Upper Ring only once before, and it was the closest she’d ever been to getting caught. She hoped the blind spot that opened during the shift rotation hadn’t been remedied yet, otherwise she’d have to take more drastic measures. Patiently, she waited for the opening.

The spirits must’ve been on her side that night because she was able to slip through into the Upper Ring with relative ease. That, or the Dai Li were occupied elsewhere. Whatever it was she was happy for it because now she was running through the pristine empty streets, searching for some sort of indication of where Zuko and Iroh may be. She didn’t know exactly what it was she was looking for, but her gut told her she’d know when she found it.

A flicker in her peripheral caught her eye and she whipped her head around. A few buildings away, a white candle burned in a window on one of the upper floors. She had to admit she was curious; The people of the Upper Ring rarely called on Tui’s Daughter because they could afford the best doctors Ba Sing Se had to offer. The spirit tended to stay in the poorer areas, especially in the refugee ghettos, because they needed her the most. Despite her desperation to find her friend, she moved towards the apartment with the candle.

Iroh immediately tensed when he heard a creak from the stairs leading up to their apartment. He hoped it was the spirit, but was ready to defend himself if need be. He hid himself from sight when the knob rattled and the front door slowly cracked open. Relief flooded his body when he saw the intruder donned a long, flowing white dress and a black smiling koi mask exactly as the rumors had described.

“Thank you for coming,” Iroh said as he emerged from his hiding spot. “My nephew is very ill, but I’m afraid it is not a natural sickness.”

The spirit had jumped into a defensive position when he spoke. Now that they stood facing each other in full view, she lowered her hands. As he looked on, the realization dawned that this was no spirit at all.

“Iroh?” the woman whispered and the old man hummed thoughtfully.

“I’ll admit I was doubtful about the rumors, but I can say I never expected you to be Tui’s Daughter.” Iroh moved closer and bowed his head in greeting. She ripped her mask off to reveal her face and Iroh smiled when he recognized her. “Hello, Kena.”

A/N: was originally going to end this at crossroads but this is long enough and also seems like a good stopping point for now. thank you all for the lovely response to the last part, yall made my heart uwu and i hope you liked this one just as much!

TAGS: @beifongsss @the-lva-way @lammello @llorom6nnic @idkdude776 @aangsupremacy @royahllty @mamooska8 @bucky-blogs @youneedmemanidonotneedyou @eridanuswave @rosetheshapeshifter @fantasticchaoticwho @bwndito @dancerslovelife @justab-eautifulmess @whalerus

#petrichor #mine #atla #avatar the last airbender #atla fic #atla fanfic #zuko #prince zuko #zuko x oc #prince zuko x oc #atla zuko #zuko fanfic #avatar fic #zuko fic #zuko x reader #prince zuko x reader #the last airbender

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memoriashell · 4 years ago

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first impressions ( are they pointless if fate has already decided? )

Characters / Pairing: Fukawa Touko/Naegi Komaru, ( implied ) Syo / Komaru

crossposted on ao3

Notes: day 7 of @tokomaruweek!! soulmate prompt.

sorry if i manage to absolutely fuck up posting this one i'm half awake rn.

i appreciate how unrealistic and improbably soulmate aus are. anyways i knew i wanted to play with this idea as soon as i saw the prompt. i think that bodyswap au has interesting potential. the bodyswap soulmate au in the specific sense that you’d theoretically get to see the kind of hardships your fated might be going through but that’s not really the angle i took on it here but i mean do any of us want komaru to face abuse and bullying? no. i cannot comit to that. someone else can do that i am going to live here angst free anyways in case it isn't obvious the basis premises around this is that once you come of age, you swap bodies with your soulmate. HONESTLY not sure how a body swap au would work w/ a did person but considering that every alter / identity is considered their own person, i figured that it would simply just swap w/ the host, meaning any alters would be left behind. i do think it'd be an interesting concept to play with, maybe?

tw for trauma / abuse ( /ive parents )

Summary: most circumstances to figure out the identity of your soulmate are pretty unfortunate, but she thinks this one might take the proverbial cake in some regard.

For most people, this would be the kind of momentous occasion that people would count down to. For Touko, it catches her completely off guard because she hardly registers the fact that her birthday is coming up until the day it happens.

‘It’ being the day she comes of age and is supposed to find out who her soulmate is.

She’d be lying if she said she didn’t think about this kind of stuff on occasion. It was kind of a given, with her entire shtick of being a romance author. But quite frankly, she tries to forget it, because really? Soulmates? For someone like her? Not likely.

Who would want to be stuck with someone like her? Best not to get her hopes up too much, and stick to unrequited crushes on people she knows she’s probably not destined for.

The sound of an unfamiliar alarm is what wakes her up— Touko doesn’t really process anything more than trying to turn it off and laying down for a few minutes. And then realizes her body doesn’t quite feel right. Empty. Something’s missing and it’s too quiet and it all feels horribly wrong. And then opening her eyes and realizing she can see perfectly fine without her glasses.

Oh. Oh no. No no no no no.

She hops out of bed and spots a phone ( thank christ ) and confirms her fears. Right. It’s her birthday. Thank god she doesn’t need to know a passcode to figure out that information. Well, nothing she can do about that. Time to sleep off today, so she can go back to living her life normally, soulmate-free.

Or well, that is what she plans to do, until a picture frame catches her attention from the corner of her eye, and— oh. Oh no? Oh no. She absolutely recognizes one of the two people in the picture. She presumes the girl is the one whose body she’s currently inhabits ( nothing particularly special to note there, plain as plain can be ). The boy— she loathes that nonchalant, easygoing expression— the boy she recognizes as her classmate. One Makoto Naegi.

God, it’d be just her luck, huh. Speaking of which—

“Komaru!” Ah, so that’s her name. She hears a shout from downstairs, followed by footsteps. “You’re going to be late!”

Shit. Shit shit shit shit.

In a panic, she sprints to dive back under the covers and pretends to be asleep still. Maybe she’ll get off without much of a punishment that way? Definitely less than the realization that she’d been awake and not getting ready for...school, presumably. She has no clue what this girl is usually like, but hopes that it isn’t painfully obvious what is going on here.

“Komaru?” The voice is closer this time, the sound of the door opening follows close behind. While she panics over the thought of what to do asides from pretending like she’s asleep, Touko misses the sound of footsteps approaching and flinches when the covers are tugged away from her head. She doesn’t mean to let out a whimper of fear when a hand comes down on her forehead, teeth clenched, not that the sound is interpreted as fear. “Are you feeling all right, dear? You’re not feverish, but you are a little sweaty...”

It takes her a moment to recognize the tone of this woman’s voice is one of concern, an incredibly foreign concept for her to expect from any parent ( she’s presuming this is the mother ). It certainly was never one she’d expected to hear from her own mothers, squeezing her eyes shut as if to ignore the truth. “N-No...” It’s not a lie, at least— all of this makes her feel sick to her stomach.

( It leaves an awful taste in her mouth, knowing the love that she is being shown here is just an illusion; not meant for her at all. And yet Touko wants something that she has never had. What an awful child she is )

“Why don’t you take it easy for today, then? If you feel no better later, you can start taking medicine.” She manages to utter a thank you, whatever will get her with no repercussions and left alone again, and there is a hand gently stroking back her hair before she is alone again.

Once ‘her’ mother leaves, she locks the door and buries herself under the blankets, so she can sleep and forget about today ever happening.

In comparison, Komaru Naegi finds herself having a much less than pleasant awakening. In that she doesn’t know what wakes her up, just that she is suddenly, forcibly awakened and in a room she doesn’t recognize.

Weird. Is she dreaming? It kind of feels that way, because she has no control over the body she currently resides in, marching over to the desk and reaches into the draw for...a pair of scissors? Really, really sharp scissors, but a pair of scissors nonetheless.

It’s not a dream. Get out. They hiss at her, scissors pointed at her— themselves? Oh boy. Uh.

“I don’t think I can do that.” She says aloud; wincing. “I don’t— I don’t know what’s going on...?”

Ugh. You think I know any better? ( Yes! Yes she does!! ) It’s totally bullshit that this is my wake-up call after ages, and she’s not even awake and instead I’m stuck with you? Ah. Shit, hold on a second how long has it been. They reach for the calendar, and she feels her face frown. Aw, it hasn’t been that long? She really forgot her own birthday coming up? Some heads up would’ve been nice instead of just waking up to this fucking mess. The voice continues to complain.

“Um...” She hates to interrupt, but she’s still pretty confused. “What do you mean? Who are you?”

You’re expecting me to just give that up without knowing your own name? Or do you not care?

“Sorry!” And she is, given that she’d kind of gotten ahead of herself. “Komaru. Komaru Naegi. But just Komaru is fine!”

Ah— Naegi? What are the odds— Dekomaru it is!

“What? That’s not my name at all!” Komaru completely manages to miss the faint recognition, huffing a pout. “And I told you, so answer my questions!”

Syo. And what I mean is that now I’m stuck explaining this shit— did you seriously not pay attention to any of that or are you that dumb? Geeze, listen to me this time. Okay, so we can have a lesson on proper terms and all that shit another time, long and short of it is that we share this body— miss gloomy and I. It’s technically her coming of age birthday today, which is why you’re here instead of her.

“Oh, okay.” Komaru nods along in agreeably, before her mind catches up and process the implications of what she’s been told. “Wait, you mean I— she— this is my soulmate?!” Her voice cracks as it pitches, hands quick to clasp out of her mouth, a little worriedly.

Yeah, obviously. And don’t worry, the rooms are soundproof. Otherwise, I would’ve already told you to stop replying out loud. People would think that’s weird. They sound amused, reaching back towards the table and fumbles around for a moment before raising something up into the field of their view.

This is a student ID card, which provides her with several helpful bits of information— none of which Komaru chooses to fixate on. “...Hope’s Peak?” What were the chances of that?

Focus, idiot. Do you have any idea of what this means?

Komaru beams, an expression that might have been frightening for anyone else to see on this face. “It means I can be a Hope’s Peak student for today!”

No. Ouch, that’s probably the most cold they’ve sounded so far. Which is saying a lot, considering how they’d greeted her. Well, maybe. I know she really wouldn’t like it if you went around in our body. She doesn’t like it when I force control over our body either, but if it’s you then she probably won’t care. Personally, I don’t give two fucks— I can give you tips on acting more like her if you want.

Komaru makes a face. “I’m bad at acting. Am I really that different?”

Given that you don’t shut up, yes. That’s not a bad thing. They add on when they seem to sense the indignation rising in her. You really want to go around like normal today?

“Please?” She begs in what is sure to not be the last time that Syo enables her in doing something she probably shouldn’t do.

Okay! You’re more fun to have to share with than madam morose. This is way more chaotic. If things go wrong, I’ll help you cover up.

Komaru thinks that’s supposed to be a compliment. Or flattery? Either way, she enthusiastically takes to observing her appearance in the mirror for a good several minutes— more than several, but who’s keeping track? Syo. Syo is— before they point out they’ll be late for class and still haven’t had breakfast. But Komaru really only registers late and class and grabs her bag and rushes out into the hall, only to realize she didn’t really know where she was supposed to be going.

Syo sighs at her and directs her in the right direction of their locker and then their class while Komaru considers what’s the best way to seem cool if she can’t technically be herself. And also try not to nervously overthink things. That is also a thing she tries to avoid.

You know it’s weird that we’re going to class early, right?

“It’s fine...!” She grumbles. I can’t help but be excited, okay? It’s not everyday I get to pretend to be attended one of the most prestigious schools in the country.

Uh huh. Okay. I don’t think it’s really ‘cool’ to be this early to class, but.. Syo snickers at her, and she pouts before opting to ignore them, gathering her nerves before ( with more confidence than the actual Touko Fukawa would ever muster ) pushing the door open and stepping inside the classroom.

And then the whole act cool plan falls apart because while Komaru had registered the, we’re at Hope’s Peak Academy, she had failed to consider the whole, this is the school my brother goes to, I might run into my brother dilemma that she is immediately forced to acknowledge in a very graceful manner.

( And by gracefully she means she very embarrassingly screams at Makoto and Syo cackles at her, and she learns a very important lesson on why she should not trust Syo so easily )

Unfortunately for Touko, her body refuses to sleep much, which means she is wide awake when someone tries to come into the room just after four. Clearly not giving up, a knock soon follows, and, “Fukawa-san? Can you let us in?”

And then the sound of her own voice, way too cheery for her own liking. “No one else is home right now, so you don’t need to worry about it. Please? I really want to meet you! Uhm, properly.” Silence follows, since Touko makes no attempt to acknowledge that- if she pretends to sleep, then they’ve got to give up eventually. Even if she can only run away for so long, given that Makoto will probably just confront her tomorrow if she doesn’t. “Uh, Syo-san says they’ll take matters into their own hands if you don’t...? I’m not really sure what that means, but...” Makoto makes a panicked noise and god damn it Syo. She hadn’t counted on Syo working against her as well. Should she have expected that from them? Eh.

( It might speak more about the other girl, if she’d managed to get something like Syo’s...approval? That doesn’t seem quite right, and feels weird to think about either way )

“Give me a moment.” She calls, just to make sure Syo doesn’t go ahead and try and start picking the lock or break a window or something else that’s drastic and unnecessary. Takes a deep breath as she pulls herself out of bed, doesn’t bother double-checking if she seems too presentable and trudges over to unlock the door.

No sooner than she does so, the door swings open cautiously— Touko manages to sidestep out of the way before she needs to worry about being hit by it. She can feel the other’s gaze focus in on her almost immediately, but she very pointedly decides to not meet her gaze, mostly because it feels weird to be looking at herself, and looks at the same bookcase she has been staring at for the past four hours straight.

( Manga. She hates it. Of course, she would be stuck with someone that loves something that she practically loathes. She also hates the fact that she’d also been so bored that she’d almost considered reading it )

The only thing she chooses to acknowledge is the fact that her hair is down and not braided, really could she not have put forth even that much effort— and that while having her in front of her now is much different from what she might have thought it to be, she really has no idea of what to think of her.

And then the other seems to decide that enough is enough and holds her hands in hers very excitedly. She can only guess what Syo makes of all this. Schadenfreude, probably. She doesn’t actually say anything to her, just giggles to herself ( she’s not sure if she’s trying to be creepy, or if that laughter is directed at something Syo is saying ).

“Stop that...It’s w-w-weird to see my face doing that.” She gnaws on her lip— is this what everyone else saw all day? That’s awful.

As if reading her mind ( and certainly not the atmosphere of room ), Makoto helpfully chimes in, “Give her a break, she’s done a pretty good job trying to not attract any unwanted attention.”

“They made me skip class.” She pouts, crossing her arms. “Syo even said that they’d take the blame for it, but no, I had to skip out.”

“You screamed at me and scared Fujisaki-san? I was more relieved that Ishimaru-kun was willing to get you excused for the day.” Oh good, at least she can count on having reliable notes and not misplaced homework like with some people ( Syo ).

“It wasn’t that bad, Makoto, you’re making it seem worse than it was—”

“Because screaming like that could come off as good somehow?” He butts in.

“— and what’s done is done, so with that said, let’s eat!” She raises a bag that she’d failed t notice earlier. “I know it’s a little weird, but it’s still your birthday, so we can at least celebrate, right? I even asked Syo what you’d prefer the most while we were at the bakery.” That kind of disgustingly desperate face is all too fitting and completely foreign on her face, and Touko scowls at her.

It’s also a very foreign thought to actually be celebrating her birthday for once, and with a practical stranger nonetheless.

“Actually, I have a call I’m supposed to make. So I’ll be waiting downstairs, Komaru— we do have to get back at a reasonable time, so I’ll come back up if you’re staying too long, okay?” Makoto flees in the most inelegant way possible, fittingly.

Traitor, she wants to yell at him. She’s not quite being left alone here, because Syo is clearly present, but it’s not the same. She still feels a sense of betrayal here on all sides nonetheless.

“Touko-chan! Come sit with me!” Not that she gets any say in this, dragged along by her hand into following. She considers telling her off because when did she say that she was allowed to call her that? But bites her tongue for the moment because she’s still a little startled about the ease at which she has accepted all of...this, given the fact that she’s currently got Syo co-fronting. She suspects that they have arbitrarily elected to not acknowledge the elephant in the room which is very annoying to her, but she’s not really given a chance to acknowledge that either since a plate is shoved into her hands.

Fruit tart. So she’s not lying about the fact that Syo has taken a liking to her, apparently.

( No she’s not jealous over her own apparent soulmate. Why on earth would she envy that? )

“Fukawa-san?” Pale lavender eyes peer up at her, lips pursed in a small pout. “I know this isn’t the most ideal situation, and..I don’t expect you to warm up to me right away. But I’d like it if we could meet again sometime, as ourselves.”

Touko gives her a long look, scrutinizing, and then looks away. “I’ll think about it.”

“Okay!” She’s quick to agree like she’d said yes; humming happily with a fork in her mouth ( which would be cuter if she didn't have to look at her own ugly face ).

#tokomaru week 2021 #tokomaru #toukomaru #komaru naegi #touko fukawa #toko fukawa #danganronpa #* zhi writes

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angst-king · 4 years ago

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Stuck in this static void pt 1

(TW: anorexic behavior, bullying, selfharm, mention of vomiting. suicide attempt) (quirkless mental hospital AU) “GET LOST FREAK!” “FUCKING NERD!” “LOSER!” All of these words were things that Izuku had become number to, or so he thought. It still hurt him to be called these things, still he felt as if those words were true. He was a loser, he was alone, he had no friends. He was a freak, he had myostatin deficiency which is where the gene Myostatin is lacking and it means he grew muscles at an early age. It wasn’t as extreme as it was for some yet, those muscles made him look bigger, scared people away. His muscles didn’t seem to fit his body or it didn’t to some people. That was before he started his new weight loss. Izuku thought he was too big, too ugly or fat which made no sense to some who knew of this disorder because. When you have a myostatin deficiency, you don’t have much body fat to begin with. That didn’t stop Izuku from bringing a water bottle with ipecac that he would drink after eating lunch, dinner or breakfast. After Katsuki and his friends had decided to be done tormenting Izuku.

The green haired male sunk against the wall he’d been cornered in. Then the thoughts in his mind came in like overwhelming static rising at a louder volume than Bakugou’s yelling. ‘Die already you idiot, this wouldn’t be happening if you just died!’ ‘HONESTLY YOUR MOM WOULDN’T CARE IF YOU PUKE YOUR GUTS OUT, YOU’RE JUST A HUGE BURDEN!’ Picking himself up he quietly grabbed his bag and headed to the bathroom taking his water bottle with him. It was after lunch and he hadn’t gotten a chance to ‘fix himself’ this time was different though. As he walked to the bathroom he started chugging down the water knowing what the result would be. He could feel the liquids slide down to his stomach and he could already feel knots forming. He’d made it just in time as saliva pools into his mouth. He gets into a stall, locks the door and gets down on his knees surrendering his bodily consumptions to the porcelain throne.

Hunched over, white knuckle grip on the base, his body shook as it forced up its stomach contents. At first it was just liquids then came his lunch and the rest of his breakfast. Though his body didn’t stop heaving and gagging, that wasn’t enough for Izuku even if he’d been in there for ten minutes already. It wasn’t enough, he needed more of a punishment, and the voice was starting to over take his limbs. ‘DO IT! DIE ALREADY!’ quickly gasping for breath Izuku went through his bookbag again, searching deep until he found his hidden compartment.

Pulling out his pocket knife, taking off his uniform top he started cutting and carving. Slicing up his arms that used to have lots of meat to them before this whole hell started. The middle schooler went from his arms to his chest, then his thighs then covering up with his pants he cut up his waist. But as he started to press the blade he could hear static. Which became so loud that his vision blurred, and made him feel weak. Numb! Not weak, he couldn’t feel anything but the swirling in his head as static dulled his mind into nothingness. He could feel himself floating even if his body was falling onto his back and his vision was darkening to the point of seeing black.

Izuku had woken up in the hospital, but he didn’t know where he was for a second until his vision settled. He could smell the cleaning supplies of the cold hospital ICU room he was in, his feeling returned and he felt so sore and weak and sick. Dizziness made him rub his temples and groan which woke up the green haired lady who sleeps in the small chair next to his hospital bed. Her chair was opposite of the IV pole holding fluid bags that were injecting their contents into her son by the needles in his arm. Izuku noticed the IV lines in him, and that his body was bandaged up in certain places. He looked over to his mom tiredly who’d stirred and sat up. Her eyes opened to see her son’s dull sickly ones. “I-Izuku?” His hoarse voice replied back with a small tired smile. “Hi mom,” Izuku was quickly pulled into a strong embrace that had him gasping but it was a warm one that he’d needed.

“You scared me Izuku, what were you doing at school? what caused you to do this Izuku?” Izuku huffed and thought about how he should reply, should he tell her about the bullying or would she even believe him? Especially since it involved Kaachan. But then Inko gently held his hand and looked at him pleading as tears made Izuku melted. “Please Izuku, I need you to tell me, you need help.” “Mom, I’m too big, I’m fat, I need to lose weight.” Inko shook her head with a soft sniffle. “Izuku you’re not fat, you’re sick. You have Myostatin deficiency, you hardly had any fat on you to begin with.-”

“I felt fat, I felt big, but I didn’t feel strong. I scare people away and attract those willing enough to tell me the truth...I’m fat mom. I’m a fat ugly loser don’t you get it mom. I wouldn’t live any longer, and I don’t if I can’t take the constant reminder from Kaachan and his friends-” That was his mistake, mentioning Kaachan, Inko’s expression changed to a raised brow. “Kaachan and his friends? Izuku has Katsuki been bullying you?” Izuku began to shake but he hadn’t noticed, what if Kaachan wanted revenge after this? What would he do? Remind him that he’s still a weak, fat, screw up who deserves to die!? Izuku couldn’t even do one thing right, he couldn’t even kill himself properly for crying out loud! His own set of tears started raining down his flushed pale cheeks. “Izuku!” Inko called out but her son was lost in the static that enclosed him and stuck him in the dark with his fears.

It was as if he couldn’t breath, he clutched his chest trying to take in breaths. His spit was cold as ice just like the rest of his body that trembled. Inko tried again and again until she grabbed him by the shoulders and held him. That seemed to do something, the static void began to echo a sound that slowly brought him from the dark, hearing his mother’s soft voice whispering sweetness to him. Gently rocking him back and forth eased him to some degree. “M-mom?” “Shhh honey please just relax.”

It took awhile for him to calm down enough; it even brought the doctor in who looked happy seeing Izuku awake. “Ah hello young man, nice to see you’re awake. Ah Mrs Midoriya I need to talk to you privately please if that’s okay?” At first Inko wanted to stay with her son. “Doctor I’m sure that isn’t necessary” Then Izuku said “Mom, it's fine, go talk with him, maybe I can leave soon.” The doctor frowned at Izuku’s ideology but it did convince Inko to talk privately with the doctor. “Alright Izu, I’ll be back.” The two adults went out to the hall, closing the door Inko looked up to the man.

“So doctor what is it?” “Mrs Midoriya, your son isn’t stable, he needs both medical and mental treatment. I’m 99.9% sure your son has an eating disorder, which mixed with his Myostatin deficiency, that’s a deadly combination that could kill him if he doesn’t get help.” Inko felt as if the man before her was being blunt but she knew the doctor was truthful. “S-so what do you suggest?” She was hesitant to ask nervous of his answer but, she wanted to help her son. “I think he needed to go to a mental hospital.” “wh-what, why can’t he just go to like a-a counselor or something?!” She asked anxiously “Because a standard counselor can’t observe him and watch him, help him with medication and stabilize him like a mental hospital staff can. Mrs Midoriya I understand that it can be scary to have Izuku so far away from you when he’s only 14, and he’s the only one you have but. Please think of your son’s mental state right now. He won't be around much longer if there isn’t proper professional intervention and treatment. I know you want what’s best for him don’t you right?” Inko took this information in and nodded, sighing she nodded. “Alright then what do we have to do?” The doctor and her discuss their plan for admitting Izuku to a psychiatric hospital, making phone calls and lists of what they will need and who they will need to talk to. It had been a while but now Inko knew she had to talk to one last person today….Izuku. Walking back to her son’s hospital room she sees him playing with the blanket that lays across his lap. “Hey Izuku!” His dark sunken eyes peer up at her. “Oh h-hi mom, how did the talk with the doctor go?” His eyes went back down away from his mother’s gaze. “Can I go home?” Inko sat next to him in her chair and sighed. “U-Um Izuku about that, y-you may not be coming home for a while honey.” Izuku raised a confused brow, he adjusted how he sat and looked at her again.

“what do you mean mom?” “Well Izuku, you’re a danger to yourself and a regular counselor won't be able to do the things that you need to be better so. You’re going to be going to a Mental health hospital-” “no.” Furrowing her brows Inko questioned back “No? Izuku I know that you’re struggling to see this but please, you’re not healthy like this honey.” “No, you’re just going to abandon me. You’re ashamed over me aren’t you?” Inko felt so hurt that her son would think that but, she had to try and put herself in his shoes mentally. He wasn’t thinking clearly, yet he was, he was having valid concerns for someone with his mental state of being.

“N-no sweetie I’m not ashamed of you, I’m not abandoning you. I-I..” She reaches to gently hold his cold slender hands “I just want you to get better, I want my Izuku back, the one who would run around and play outside, who would laugh and giggle who wouldn’t sleep the day away and vomit his food back up. I will do whatever it takes to help you Izuku and I know that you can’t see that you’re sick but please...If not for yourself, do it for me, please.” Her voice broke as she tried to hold off from sobbing and breaking down. She just wanted to see Izuku smiling, running around playing, not giving up and wanting to die. Izuku looked away and grumbled out “will you write me letters, visit me, or call me?” “If it's possible I will Izuku I promise.” “......I really don’t even have a choice in this do I?” Inko looked away nodding quietly “when will i go?” “In four days you’ll be discharged from this hospital, and will be taken to the mental hospital.” “Alright then” He says, turning away from the petite green haired women, laying on his side, he pulls the blanket over his face. Inko huffed and gently carded her fingers through Izuku’s hair that started to shed in some places due to the lack of nutrition.

“I-I’m so sorry Izuku” Her soft voice shook as she continued her soothing tactile method from her chair.

#tododeku #anorexic midoriya #quirkless au #my psych academia

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edourado · 5 years ago

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Together, ch iv

Here’s chapter four, because I need something light and fluffy, to help me stomach the world. I’m sad, I’m angry, sick to my stomach, I am legit losing faith in humanity, I burst out in tears at any given moment. And I don’t want to lose my mind, so here’s me coping.

This is nothing, its a silly piece of fluffy fanfiction, but it’s for George Floyd, for Ahmaud Arbery, for João Pedro, a 14 year old black boy from Rio who was shot by police while playing inside his home, for every black individual who died because they were black, for their families, for the protesters. This is nothing, nothing, nothing, but it has a little of my heart in it, so it’s for them.

I hope it makes you smile.

-------

It wasn’t long until Frank got cabin fever.

Staying inside all day was not at all like him. How long had he been spending most of his days outside, moving, doing something, or just looking at the people walking around the street?

To Karen’s amusement - and delight - he cleaned the entire apartment, top to bottom, and was even able to remove the touch stains on the light switches. He did something to the fridge, and by the time he was done, the shelves and the door were gleaming as if had just arrived from the store, brand new.

But the apartment was not big enough to keep him entertained for long, so he started ordering things online to improve on little stuff, like the shelves she needed for her shoes, since she had needed to make room for his, or these fancy magnets to install on bottom of the doors, so they would stop banging shut whenever it was a little windy. He spent a whole afternoon on the phone with David Lieberman, deciding on the best cameras to install around the place.

Reading only took him so far. He went through four books before he found it hard to keep still, and it was even worse with Netflix.

Then, one day, the masks they bought from the neighbor from two floors down were ready, and she texted to let them know she had left them at their door.

“I thought they’d be much worse”, Karen said, after they wired the neighbor the money and collected the neatly packed masks. “These are good, look!”

She put one on and they were, indeed, much better than they both had expected. Not fancy or in any way tech advanced, but a simple cloth mask that covered mouth and nose without leaving gaps. All of them black.

“I think I’ll order more”, Karen mused, while Frank put one on. As far as masks go, this was not the worst he had ever worn, not by a long shot.

That night, Frank lied awake in bed, his finger twitching, unable to sleep. They had cooked a big dinner together, looking for something to do to spend the time and use the things they had on the pantry, trying to avoid spoiling food.

Karen had also stayed awake for longer than usual, but now she breathed slowly, sleeping by his side, and Frank had given up keeping his eyes closed, and now stared at the ceiling.

After what seemed like forever, he looked at the window and noticed that the sky was starting to become a tad lighter. When he checked his phone, it told him it was 4:34 in the morning. With a glance at Karen, he got up, careful not to wake her.

After silently dressing, Frank picked up his phone from the bedside table and carried his shoes to the living room, stopping to pick up one of the masks they had washed before starting on dinner. The radiator had dried them all completely, leaving them warm and crisp feeling.

Closing the apartment door silently behind him, he locked it and then moved quickly down the stairs.

He couldn’t take a proper breath in, with the mask covering his mouth and nose, but the fresh air that made it through his lungs when he inhaled deeply were enough to make him feel better already. Looking at the empty street before him, Frank set off for the first jog he had in years.

Ever since he came back from his last tour, he favored other ways of exercising. Jogging was neither possible nor efficient after the whole mess, but it felt good, it felt natural, to run without hurry and from nobody, not chasing anybody. Run for the sake of running.

He was on a break by the river, almost an hour later, when his phone pinged.

“Ok”, said Karen’s text, in reply to the one he had sent her before he left the apartment, letting her know he was off for a run. “Have fun”, and then, almost as an afterthought, “Be careful. Don’t touch anything and don’t take off your mask.”

“Yes, ma’am”, he replied.

Frank ran for a good while. Not counting the time, or the miles, or his heartbeat, he just ran, took breaks, walked and then ran some more, looking as the morning made the city brighter, noticing how strange it the streets looked, so empty, even this early. He ran and he wished he could take off his mask, but he didn’t, happy that at least he was able to breathe some fresh air and not see any walls around him, for a change.

The sun was up when he turned to make his way back, at 7:15.

There was a bakery one corner away from home, and the smell of fresh bread lured him in. A man in uniform, a mask and gloves told him they just took a fresh batch out of the oven, and Frank bought a few, along with cheese and two cups of coffee (which they had at the apartment, but he figured these people were risking themselves to provide food for the neighborhood and try and keep their business alive, so what’s two cups of extra coffee?)

“Thank you so much for your support” said the guy, handing him the bag and the cup holder through a window.

“Thank you”, Frank replied, happy for this little slice of normal. “You guys open tomorrow?”

“From seven to seven.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Name’s Frank.”

“I’m Ray. See you, Frank. Have a good day.”

He walked the rest of the way, and had to balance his purchases in one hand while taking the key from his shoe, towing said shoes off and unlocking the door, walking in in his socks.”

“Frank?” Karen called from the bedroom.

“I’m here” he called back, starting the new strange process of cleaning the things he brought home with him.

After putting the warm bread on the designated bread basket and disposing of the paper bag, he transferred the cheese to a clean container and the coffee to the coffee pot, where Karen had not yet pushed the button to brew.

After his shower, he walked to the bedroom, feeling much, much better than he felt before getting up this morning.

Karen was still in bed, phone in hand, and smiled at him when he walked in.

“Hi”, she greeted, and he walked to her. “Enjoy your run?”

“Hmm”, was his answer, lying down half on top of her, kissing her gently, closing his eyes when her hands caressed his hair. “I brought breakfast.”

“I can smell it”, she said, softly. “That show we wanted to watch is available on Netflix. Wanna eat on the couch and watch it with me?”

He made them egg sandwiches and brought it to the couch while she cued the new show on TV, and when he settled down to watch it, he didn’t feel restless or that itch that made him want to get up every five seconds.

What a difference, a run made.

.:.

He came back to the apartment on the fourth day with croissants and the usual coffee, sweating profusely, since he had not made any stops this time, nor did he walk, and the jog was just straight up sprinting.

“Kare?” he called from the kitchen.

“I’m here!” she called back, and he saw her hand waving at him through the window. She was in the fire escape.

He had to deal with the sanitizing of the shopping and then a shower, so it was a few minutes before he walked to the living room window.

Before he got to the ledge, she popped her head inside and smiled at him.

“I got you something.”

When Frank ducked to climb out to the narrow fire escape, he saw what she had gotten: a hammock.

Cream colored, she had tied it on the iron bars above head, it hung a good few inches above the floor. She had placed two throw pillows in it, plus a heavy blanket.

“You’ve been feeling so cooped up, I thought this would maybe help a little.

Turning to her, Frank smiled and moved to kiss her.

“You didn’t have to do that”, he said, a hand caressing her hair.

“I wanted to. I’m only sorry it took so long to arrive, I ordered it almost a month ago.”

Frank looked at the hammock, swaying lightly in the wind, and thought that this small act, this simple purchase for his benefit made him a little more sure that she meant it, when she said she loved him.

It was silly, he knew that, but there still was a little part of him that expected her to wake up one day and realize that all she thought she felt for him was nothing but the thrill of the danger, the forbidden, the very ill advised act of rebellion, or even misinterpreted feelings of concern and worry and gratitude.

The fact that she didn’t run away from him after they slept together for the first time, or asked him to stay after the second third fourth and so on, asked him to move in, gave him a key, made room for his things, made room for him, bought him a hammock. It all told him that yeah, she was serious about that love.

“Maybe we can have breakfast here?” he suggested, and she beamed, nodding.

“So you like it?”

“I do”, he said against her mouth. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Settle in, I’ll get the food.”

They ate the croissants and drank the coffee while sharing the hammock, after adjusting the height a little bit.

“This is so good”, she said around a mouthful of warm croissant, taking a sip of coffee, looking out at the street below them.

Frank watched as the morning light caught in her hair, how it made her eyes shine just a tad bluer, accentuated the few freckles she had on her nose.

“Yeah, it is”, he agreed, squeezing her foot under the blanket, thankful that, if he had to be stuck inside, at least it was with her.

#I feel stupid posting this #I feel powerless and guilty #but it's relief #kastle #kastle ff #kastle fluff #frank castle #karen page #the punisher #daredevil

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sweetiejunie · 5 years ago

Text

Till we meet again

Pt1

Summary: you had to leave him

Genre: angst, fluff

Yeonjun x reader

Part: Prologue | Pt1

=====================================

The days went by and there wasn’t a single one either of you wasn’t thinking about each other. You were his first love and he was yours. Who could ever forget that?

The day you had to leave each other it broke both of you to the core, you both knew that day had to come, it was inevitable. Before you had gotten together, you already knew what your parents had planned for you, to send off to study at some prestigious overseas school, god knows how many hours away from your home, from him. Neither of you cared though, simply wanting to live in the moment, until that fateful day came and you both realised how painful it was going to be. Chocking back sobs as you walked away from him, feeling guilty for hurting him like this, and him crying his heart out as he watched your silhouette fade away.

For the first year or so, you both tried to keep in contact, messaging to each other, sending selfies, face timing, anything you could imagine and it was more than enough for either of you at the time.

However, as time went on, you got busy with school and he got busy with his debut, eventually, neither of you had the time. Eventually, both of you got used to the pain of not having each other and before you knew it, years had already passed.

——————————————————————————

The present day

It started out as a normal morning for yeonjun. He had awoken to the sounds of his members arguing over god knows what once again. He check his phone: 7.56am, well it was about time for him to wake up anyway.

Before he could lock his screen, he took a minute to appreciate his wallpaper, the most breathtaking sight he’s ever seen, and no, he wasn’t talking about the sunset in the background. He was referring to you.

Though it’s been years, he still admired you too much, his wallpaper hasn’t changed. It was still his favourite picture. It was you and him on a beach, together. The golden colours of the sunset behind you enhancing your already beautiful features. He remembered that day as if the picture was a book, reading him the memory.

~flashback~

The day started off like any other. Well, not really it was 11am and yeonjun decided to surprise you with an impromptu lunch date and went to your place to pick you up. Little did he know you were still asleep. He knew you treasured sleep, maybe even more than him, woops but it was almost noon!

He tried to reach you but you had the habit of turning your phone on to silent mode during the night so no matter how much he called, it wouldn’t go through. This resulted in him throwing small pebbles at your window, romeo and juliet style.

After a bit, you woke up, of course, who wouldn’t have been woken up by that irritating nois-, i mean romantic gesture. You went to the source of the noise that interrupted your slumber, opening your window, ready to throw the rocks back at whatever or whoever was there. However, when you saw your dear blue haired boy, all you could do was glare at him. You loved him, but it was true, you loved sleep just a ‘tiny’ bit more.

“Rapunzel, rapunzel, let down your hair!” He said in the most ‘prince charming’ voice he could, getting down on one knee to sell the act even more.

“Wrong fairy tale romeo!” You replied sarcastically, smirking as you held back your laughter. You rested your elbows at the legde of your window and continued to look down at the boy.

He pouted, “you could have at least played along!”

This caused you to laugh again, shaking your head. “Hold on I’ll be down in a sec!”

And you can probably guess it but the day ended with the both of you, barefoot on the beach, soft sand between you toes, hand in hand, walking in silence, simply appreciating the sound of the crashing waves and of course, each other.

tbh i could write an entire part just on this, should i? I think it’ll be cute ㅋㅋㅋ

~end~

He missed you... so, so much, every single day but that feeling of longing was already something he grew accustom to. He missed you, there hasn’t been a day when he didn’t. But for some reason, he was feeling it a lot more today.

He believed you would come back into his life one day and that was enough for him, for now. He believed you were meant to be and fate, as cruel as it may be sometimes, will bring you back together. No one has ever made him feel the same way you did and that was something he was willing to wait for no matter how long it took.

Eventually, his stomach growled, causing him to drag himself out of a bed for breakfast.

“Hyung, you’re awake!” Soobin greeted him as he walked out of his room.

“Yeah, good morning soobin,” he replied, groggily, rubbing his eyes as the got used to the light.

“Beomgyu and I wanted to head to the practice room early, if you want we could wait for you. Taehyun and Kai just left for school.”

“No it’s alright, thanks, you guys go on ahead. Ill be there around 9,” waving off Soobin’s offer, and headed to the kitchen to make himself some breakfast.

“Alright, we’ll see you later.”

“See you later, hyung!” Beomgyu added before shutting the door behind him and soobin.

He habitually lifted his phone, as it turned on automatically, it read 8.12am. He sighed. What was he expecting? A text from you? It’s been months since you last spoke, but i guess old habits die hard. He stood up, turning on silent and leaving his phone at the counter.

The members all knew what yeonjun went through when you parted ways. He wasn’t himself for a while, he wasn’t eating proper meals, he was messing up at practise, he wasn’t his cheerful, childish self. That faithful day had really taken a toll on him and it wasn’t until recently they starting seeing bits of the old him coming back. But the main thing missing, was the piece of him that he left with you, it was a part that wouldn’t come back until you did, no one knew how long that would be.

It was a quiet morning for yeonjun. With the others having already left, he was left alone with his thoughts. He remembered all the fun times you had together, all the laughs you shared, it made him smile fondely, but maybe remembering was more of a bad thing than good.

He felt as if his head was about to explode, what have you done to him? He decided to abandon his half eaten breakfast, throwing it in the sinj and went to have a quick shower instead. Maybe that could help clear his thoughts.

He let the water run, heating up, while he stripped himself of his clothes and stepped in. As the water hit his bare skin, he remembered the day you two had went to the water park with the other boys. He remembered how shy you were when you admitted to him that you couldn’t swim. How you would cling on to his arm in fears of him leaving you in the middle of the pool. And how he would threaten to let go, just to see you whine, panic and pout, in that order. He let out a frustrated groan, why was it hitting him so hard today?

Supporting himself against the glass panel, he stood there for a while, feeling the steam calm him down the tiniest bit. Looking as if he came straight out of a drama scene. Stepping out, he wrapped himself in a towel.

He cleaned off the condensation that formed on the mirror, seeing his reflection. It shocked him, he looked so out of it. He was out of it. He hardly recognised the person staring back at him, he left the bathroom and went to get dressed for the day, a basic oversized hoodie and sweatpants. Didn’t have to look too nice, nothing special was going to happen anyway.

Leaving the dorm, he grabbed his phone off of the counter, 8.50am, and headed for the practice room. Little did he know, his entire world was about to change in a matter of minutes.

He took his usual route to the building, stopping at the traffic light as he waited for the pixelated man to turn green. He stared at the ground as he bounced on his feet, patiently waiting, mind still racing with thoughts of you. His surrounding disappeared as he sunk in further.

He should have tried harder, he should have did more to convince you to stay, he should have-

*honk, honk*

The sudden obnoxious car honk knocked him out of his thoughts. He had half a mind to swear at the diver for doing that but almost as if by fate, the moment he looked up, he was rendered speechless. Across the street from him was a silhouette he would recognise anywhere.

=====================================

Sry this took me a while to write ㅠㅠ ive been sick for the past few days and generally i just had a hard time thinking of how to start this hah. But its done now and hope you like it!

#yeonjun scenarios #choi yeonjun #yeonjun au #yeonjun ff #txt yeonjun #yeonjun angst #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun fanfic #yeonjun fluff #yeonjun #txt ff #txt au #txt angst #txt imagines #txt fanfic #txt fluff #txt post #txt

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whump-tr0pes · 5 years ago

Photo

This is a series. Start here. Continued from here.

First @badthingshappenbingo!!! I wrote Sam as already having pneumonia at this point, so this next bit just kinda...happened. I’m not usually a sicfic gal but laaawd did I enjoy writing this.

Red X is for written and posted, white X is for requested. Enjoy!!!

AO3

Honor bound - 13

The sound of Sam’s labored breathing woke Finn up. They turned on the lamp beside the bed and rolled over, feeling blearily for Sam. When Finn’s hand touched them, Finn flinched away. Their skin was burning.

“Oh no, no no no, no, Sam…” They sat up and rolled Sam over onto their back. Their skin was slick with sweat, hair plastered to their forehead, clothes soaked beneath the blankets. Sam’s eyes were glazed over and unfocused. In the light of the lamp Finn could see their pulse jumping in their neck. Too fast. They felt Sam’s wrist. Way too fast. “Shit, shit, shit.”

They pulled the blankets off Sam, exposing them to the chilly air in the safehouse. Sam shivered and blindly reached for the covers, eyes lazing over the ceiling, unseeing. Finn dashed to the living room where Ellis and Vera were slumped on the couch asleep and Gray was stretched out on the floor. The team had elected to give Finn and Sam the bed so Sam could be comfortable and Finn could monitor them during the night. I was supposed to watch out for them and I failed. Shit!

“Ellis,” they hissed. Ellis stirred on the couch, slowly lifting their head and looking around. “Ellis,” they whispered. “Get up, I need you.” They didn’t look back as they rushed out the door to the car, grabbing their med kit and dashing back inside. Ellis was still sitting on the couch, groggy and confused. “Come on.” Finn pulled their arm, pulling them up off the couch and into the bedroom, Ellis weakly complaining the whole way. As soon as they saw Sam, they fell silent, frozen. They were shaken out of their reverie by Finn tossing the blood pressure cuff and stethoscope at them. “Get me a blood pressure,” they said without looking up from the bag. Ellis shook themselves and jumped onto the bed beside Sam, pulling their arm out of their sleeve.

Finn pulled out an IV kit and tied the tourniquet around Sam’s arm. Sam stirred, mewling weakly at the touch and at the cold. While the veins filled, Finn passed a thermometer over their forehead. Then again, disbelieving. They shook their head. Again. “104.2. Shit.” They assembled the IV set-up and sanitized the inside of Sam’s elbow. Too quickly for Sam to even flinch, Finn had the needle in, withdrawn, and connected to the extension set. They taped the IV down and turned to Ellis. “What have you got?”

Ellis shook their head, taking the stethoscope out of their ears. “Um…76/48?”

“Take it again.”

Hands shaking, Ellis pumped up the cuff and tried again. Finn’s heartbeat seemed to deafen them as they watched Ellis, holding their breath.

“78/50.”

“Shit.” They felt for a pulse. “132 on the pulse. No no no…” Their hand went to Sam’s forehead, sweeping the hair back from their face. They held out their hand for the stethoscope and listened to Sam’s lungs. The lower part of the right side rumbled with infection.

“What are we gonna do?” whispered Ellis.

“They’re septic,” moaned Finn. “They need antibiotics. And a lot of other things but…antibiotics mostly. And I don’t have any…” Their face fell into their hands. “None of the last four groups we ran into were selling, either. But I…” They looked helplessly at Sam. “If they don’t get them, they’ll die. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe sooner.”

Ellis reached for Finn’s hand. “Let me go find some.”

“No.” Finn’s voice was hard. “It’s too dangerous. Gavin’s people might be out there looking for us right now. No way.”

Ellis squeezed. “Either I risk that, or Sam dies. Right? There’s no way they could survive without antibiotics?”

Finn shook their head. “Well…probably not, but…we could find…we could do something…” They grabbed Ellis’ hand with both of theirs. “You’re my partner.”

Ellis smiled crookedly. “Don’t I know it. I can’t get rid of you.” They got off the bed. “But I’m going. I love Sam, too.” Their eyes swept Sam’s body, hot and flushed and trembling on the bed.

Finn opened their mouth to protest, then let it close with a sigh. “You’re right. Let me follow you out so I can grab my stuff. Take a radio with you. Don’t go far. If you’re gone for longer than a day, it won’t matter.” Their breath caught in their throat, shame chilling their insides. “I mean…”

“I get it.” Ellis took Finn’s chin and made them look at them. “I know you have to be that way with patients. Right now, Sam’s your patient.” They turned to leave the bedroom. Finn followed right behind.

Finn was proud of their cache of equipment. It had taken them a long time to collect and had cost more than all the team’s other needs combined, but it was worth it in times like this. They grabbed the cardiac monitor they had had to trade a car for and their sack of saline bags. Ellis grabbed the oxygen concentrator that was Finn’s prized possession, and the extra batteries for it.

As they carried the equipment inside, Gray stirred. “What’s goin’ on?” they mumbled. Finn walked right past them into the bedroom.

Ellis dropped to one knee and whispered so as not to wake Vera. “Sam got worse. Finn is gonna do what they can here, and I’m gonna go get antibiotics.”

“I’ll go with you.” Gray clumsily got to their feet.

“No.” Finn poked their head into the hall, having dropped their equipment. “Too dangerous. I hate risking Ellis. I can’t risk you, too.”

“I’m of more use helping Ellis than I am here,” Gray whispered back.

Finn hesitated in the doorway for a moment. Then they sighed. “Take the radio, let me know what you find. Don’t be gone longer than 24 hours.” They disappeared back into the room.

Ellis and Gray left silently, trying to let Vera sleep. It had been days since any of them had gotten proper rest. No use in waking her up if it wasn’t necessary.

Finn looked down at Sam and watched their eyes move slowly under the lids. Then they swallowed hard and got to work.

Finn covered Sam back up with only the thinnest blanket on the bed. Sam was already starting to shiver, but it was better to let them cool off a bit than to let them sweat under the covers. They spiked a bag of saline and hung it from a nail in the wall. They assumed it once held a picture, but whatever was there before was gone. They attached the saline to Sam’s IV and let it run wide open.

Finn dug a portable pulse ox out of their bag and clipped in onto Sam’s finger. They waited for the little machine to beep, normalize, get a reading… 89%.

They cursed silently and reached back into their bag for a nasal cannula. They put it on Sam’s face and plugged it into the oxygen concentrator. They turned it on and within minutes the number on the pulse ox was rising. 91%...94%...96%... Finn pulled up some IV Tylenol, checked the dose, and ran it into the IV.

No one on the team had ever been this sick before. They had treated scrapes and cuts, broken bones, even sutured a graze from a bullet that nearly killed Ellis when they first met, but they’d never done anything like this. Finn wasn’t deluded. They knew their team trusted them too much to take care of them. They knew if someone took a bullet to the gut, or got a concussion bad enough, or got an illness that couldn’t be treated with Tylenol and fluids, they would die without a hospital. And hospitals were run, almost without exception, by the syndicates. The only safe hospitals were inordinately expensive. Finn shook their head wearily. They were a stopgap. A glorified band-aid distributor. The pharmacy aisle at a convenience store could help more than they could.

They buried their face in their hands, tears of frustration burning their eyes. They’d signed up to be a combat medic when they were 18, when the governments were still pretending to fight the criminal organizations that now ran the world. They’d gotten through their first three weeks of medical training when their base had been attacked and destroyed. Every person found on the base, military or not, had been shot execution style where they stood. Finn was one of the only ones that escaped. They’d been on the run ever since. They couldn’t remember much of anything they learned in basic training, and most of the medicine they knew was what they had picked up along the way. The only difference between them and anyone else on the team was that three weeks of training. A monkey could do what I can do, and be almost as successful. A tear ran down their cheek.

Snap out of it, idiot. There was no time for self-pity when Sam was dying. They couldn’t do much without antibiotics, but they might be able do enough to keep Sam alive until they arrived.

Content for now, Finn turned to their bag to do a quick inventory. Aside from their regular med kit, they had 12 bags of saline left, 4 lithium ion batteries for the oxygen concentrator, and one extra battery for the monitor. They did some quick math in their head. If Sam is 60 kilos, give or take, they’ll need 1800 mL fluids in the first three hours, or is it 1200 mL, shit, why can’t I remember this right now…this is when I need to know this stuff… They glanced at the liter of fluid hanging from the wall. Half of it was already gone. Screw it. I keep their blood pressure up. If they need similar boluses after that then I’ll have a little less than 24 hours before I run out. They closed their eyes. I guess it won’t matter after that. I told them they have 24 hours. Their hands reached vaguely towards the lithium batteries, thinking. Each battery lasts for four-ish hours, give or take, so including the one already running we’ll have…20 hours of O2, minimum. They ran a tense hand through their hair. That’s more than cutting it damned close.

They pumped up the blood pressure cuff and took another pressure. 80/54. They could pretend it was improvement.

I can’t think of another damned thing I can do for them. Most of their equipment was for trauma, anyway. They wracked their brain for another moment before they slumped, giving in to their worry.

They crawled next to Sam and lay down next to them over the thin blanket, flinching at the heat coming off their skin. They laid their head next to Sam’s and wrapped one arm around their waist, reaching across them and holding their hand.

“You know,” Finn whispered against Sam’s ear, “we’re gonna get through this. You’re gonna get better, we’re gonna get Isaac back, and we’re all gonna run away together somewhere safe. Somewhere Gavin can’t find us. Someday this is all gonna be some terrible memory. Maybe you can go to college, would you like that? I could actually become a medic. Or maybe even do medical school. Who knows. Vera could get that dog she’s always talking about, and we could all go over to mine and Ellis’ house on the weekends to have cookouts and go swimming in our pool and watch movies. Ellis could be safe, they could go to therapy, they could…I don’t know, maybe write their book?” Finn laughed gently. “Isaac can finally relax and figure out what he wants to do. You know, I’ve never once heard him talk about what he would do if we were safe? Anyway, we’d be far away from the crime and the death and the running, we’d be safe, maybe we could have a garden, a cat… What would you go to school for? I don’t think I remember. I know we’ve talked about it. You’ll have to tell me when you get better.” They pressed a kiss against Sam’s temple. “You know I hate it when they leave me behind? Drives me insane. I just want to help, I just want to contribute like they do, and they say it’s because I’m an asset but anyone could do what I do…honestly, not complicated…maybe if I had some actual medicines to work with but…with what I have to work with…” They sighed. “I just want to be in it with you. I want to feel how it feels to raid a compound, pull the trigger and watch some piece-of-shit murderer go down, I want to feel the way you all do when you work together and pull off a mission…” They pressed their lips together and tried to ignore the tears running down their face and into the pillow.

“I’m so sorry we let this happen to you.” Their voice was shaking. “I know Isaac blames himself, but it’s all of our faults. We left you unprotected. We should never have expected you to…” They shook their head. “Once we get you better, I swear to you, we will keep you safe, we’ll never put you in danger again. Just…hold on for us, Sam. Hold on for me. You just have to hold on until they get back with the antibiotics…just for a few hours, I promise…” They soothed their sweat-soaked curls away from their face. “Please, Sam. Please just fight this. Please stay alive.”

As they put their hand back in Sam’s, Finn felt them squeeze weakly. They smiled through their tears and squeezed back.

Continued here.

@untilthepainstarts, @womping-grounds, @blue-flare10, @free-2bmee, @quirkykayleetam, @walkingchemicalfire, @inpainandsuffering, @redwingedwhump, @burtlederp, @castielamigos-whump-side-blog

#honor bound #bad things happen bingo #pneumonia #whump #my oc: Sam #torture aftermath #field medicine #sicfic #tw: needles #fever #sepsis

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tadie1234 · 4 years ago

Text

This was an ask from @daisy-like-a-cow

It was for hidden injury, fainting, and I think infected, tumblr ate your ask and it won’t pop up.

First of thank you!! Second I’m so sorry for this taking so long ❤️❤️

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25815538

“Good job Parker good job, can’t even go one lousy patrol without getting stabbed.” Peter muttered to himself as he attempted to swing back to the apartment while trying to keep the knife from jostling. He remembered from his field training with Natasha that you aren’t supposed to remove a the weapon from a wound without getting proper medical attention, but he wasn’t going to bother Mr. Stark. He had gotten stabbed enough times to know he could do this by himself. It was also barely a stab, it was more like a really deep cut, a scratch if you will, at least that’s what he kept trying to tell himself. So when he finally had gotten back to his apartment he had a plan. First he had to somehow sneak into May’s room without waking her up to grab a needle and thread. Then he would go to the bathroom and carefully take out the knife and clean it with rubbing alcohol. And finally he would use his very little knowledge of stitching to stitch himself up. The plan commenced.

Instead of going into the apartment from his own window, he decided just going into May’s would be easier. So he slowly eased her window open and crawled inside.

“Peter what are you-“ May sleepily asked from her bed.

“Uh-Nothing! You’re dreaming, this is just a dream, go back to sleep.” Peter whisper shouted, as he rummaged through May’s sewing box until he finally found what he was looking for. He grabbed the needle and thread and quietly left her room and went into the bathroom. He quickly took out the knife and placed it on the counter, next he grabbed the bottle of rubbing alcohol and poured a little on the wound. Then Peter took the needle and thread and quickly pushed the needle through the skin and began to stitch. It took around 20 minutes and he almost passed out but he did it. It was around three am and he still had school the next day, so he climbed into bed and instantly fell asleep.

—-/—/—-/

When he woke up, the first thing he noticed was that his side was itching like crazy. He lifted up his shirt to look at the wound and gasped in surprise. The area around the stitches were red and inflamed and there a watery pus that had started to come from the wound. “Well shit.” Peter thought to himself, he decided the best thing to do was to remove the stitches, so he snipped them and some how doing that the wound looked worse than it did before. But he had to get to school, so quickly got dressed and ran into the kitchen hoping that May had already left. But like most things in his life recently, it wasn’t really going the way he hoped.

“Hey sweetie, how did you sleep? I had the strangest dream last night and-“

“Hey May, love you, gotta go bye” Peter said as he rushed towards the door, snagging a banana on his way out.

Peter ran to the subway station and made it to school. Barely. He almost passed out on the subway because he got so dizzy just from standing. But if he didn’t do anything too strenuous it would be fine right?

Wrong. Peter was so very wrong. Getting through first period was practically torture, his side burning and twinging with every movement. And next he had gym. He changed his clothes in the bathroom instead of out with everyone else because he hadn’t wrapped the it and didn’t want anyone to think he got stabbed or something. Which of course he had but that wasn’t the point. But at least today, all they were doing was the rope climbing test. He could do that. All he had to do was just climb to the top of the rope and ring the bell. He’s climbed higher on patrol, this was going to be no problem at all. Except it turned into a slight problem. When Peter reaches midway on the rope, he got really dizzy all of the sudden and black spots filled his vision as he let go of the rope and passed out.

“Peter!” He heard a voice call out. He let out a loud groan and slowly opened his eyes.

“Wha- happened?” Peter asked as he slowly sat up.

“You took quite the tumble there Parker, I’m sending you to the nurse to go home for the day.” Coach Wilson said as he helped the boy sit up.

“Uh- thank you sir.” Peter said as he stumbled out of the gym to the nurses office.

When he arrived to the nurses office the nurse had him lay down on the cot as she called his emergency contacts.

“I can’t seem to get a hold of your aunt let me try this other number.” The nurse said as she bustled around her small office. Peter zoned out after that knowing Tony would be absolutely livid if he found out why Peter passed out.

—-/—-/-

Peter just have fallen asleep waiting for Tony to arrive because he woke up to someone softly shaking his shoulder.

“Hey buddy, time to go.” Peter stood up slowly and needed to lean on Tony the whole way to his car.

“What’s going on with you bud?” Tony said as he buckled Peter in.

“Nothing I just- it’s nothing Tony.” Peter mumbled as he let his eyes fall shut.

“Wanna try that again? Your lying skills are somehow getting worse and worse every time you open your mouth.” Tony said, running his fingers through Peter’s hair. “Are you sick? Not sleeping good? Are you not eating what’s wrong bud? Just talk to me. Tony said softly. Peter saw his life line and took it.

“I’ve just been not sleeping well recently, it’s nothing, I’m fine.” Peter said, trying to sound as believable as possible.

“Pete, you need to come with me with this kind of stuff, I can help you, I’ve dealt with all of this, I know all the little tricks and tips. I’m going to bring you back to the tower and we are going to have a little slumber party.” Tony said taking his hand from Peter’s hair and starting the car. Peter let out a snort at the slumber party part.

“Seriously Mr. Stark? Slumber Party?” Peter asked with a smirk.

“Yeah kiddo that’s what we’re doing. Seriously Pete, I can help you, you need to tell me when you’re not feeling good or can’t sleep or anything.”

“Yeah okay.” Peter said, feeling oh so guilty. They were quiet for the rest of the ride to the Tower.

—-/—-/-

“Okay bud, here’s the plan, movie first and if that doesn’t work I’ll have to pull out my secret sleeping tactics.” Tony said, leading the boy over to the couch. Peter sat down on the couch and waited as Tony gathered some blankets and pillows. He then put a pillow on his lap and made Peter lay down while he covered both of them in a big fluffy comforter. And to make it even more sleep inducing he put on a nature documentary about jellyfish. He waited until they were about 15 minutes into it before he pulled out his real weapon. He started to slowly run his fingers through Peter’s curly locks. And it almost worked. But Peter’s side was really starting to hurt now and he just couldn’t get comfortable, so he stood up to get a new position when Tony stopped him.

“Is that blood on your shirt?” Tony asked peering at him in the darkness.

“What!? No, no it’s uh- wait, yes actually. Mr. Stark, I am uh- on my period, I’m menstruating? I’m on my menstruation.” Peter said trying to remember what he learned from sex ed.

“Peter.” Mr. Stark said unamused. “Lift up your shirt.”

“No, I uh- can’t, I-.” Peter said backing away from the man.

“Peter, come over here and let me see, I won’t get mad.” Tony said lifting his hands up as a gesture of peace. Peter slowly walked over and lifted up his shirt and Tony gasped. The area around the wound was turning purple and it was leaking pus and blood.

“Friday tell Bruce we need him.” Tony yelled as he took Peter by the arm and helped him to the Medbay.

—-/—-/—

“Septic shock!?” Tony called out as he paced in front of Peter. “Do you know why what you did was so incredibly stupid?”

“Yes Mr. Stark, it won’t happen again. Peter said, looking down at the floor. When they had gotten to the Medbay, Bruce told them that Peter was in the beginning stages of septic shock and it was good that they caught it so early. They got him hooked up to an IV with antibiotics and fluids, and Bruce also cleaned and stitched up his wound. But Tony was still freaked out about the whole thing and finally stopped pacing and sat down next to Peter.

“Don’t ever do that again bud.” Tony said softly grabbing Peter’s hand. “You could’ve died, you know that? Next time please tell me these things, I can help you, I promise I won’t be mad.”

“Yes sir.” Peter said, his eyes full of tears.

“C’mere kid.” Tony said, and Peter curled up into his arms as Tony rocked him back and forth to calm him down.

“I- I didn’t mean- I didn’t think-“ Peter said between sobs.

“Hey, it’s fine buddy, at least we got it under control, next time talk to me, I can’t help you.” Tony said softly running his fingers through Peter’s hair.

“Thank you” Peter whispered into his chest.

“Of course bud.” Tony replied, holding him tighter.

And that’s how Pepper found them the next morning, curled up in each others arms.

#fic prompt #irondad #spiderman #avengers endgame #iron man #irondadfic #sick fic #ao3 fanfic #ao3 link #ao3fic #hurt/ comfort

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savage-rhi · 5 years ago

Note

Hey there! Can I request a hurt Higgs story with a concerned Fragile? 🥺🥰

@argetlam007

Coming right the fuck up! :D Have a Bitchin’ Christmas you beautiful person!

Fragile arrived at Higgs’s bunker with supplies in hand. She carefully made her way inside the terminal, and then proceeded to go through the door leading down to Higgs’s residency. Despite how much he cleaned up the place, Fragile couldn’t get the smell of stale pizza boxes out of her nose. She always wondered why he had such fancies for them. Pizza was never something she took a particular liking too, but back when they were business partners, it was something Higgs purchased for them regularly when they had their meetings. Fragile chalked it up to some form of childhood comfort that Higgs would never admit to.

Venturing down into the lair of the former beast, Fragile took in a deep breath and found Higgs’s was sitting in the new bed he purchased for himself. His back was pressed to the wall as his breathing labored. He meekly turned his head to look towards her direction. A sense of awe transpired over his features.

“Didn’t think you’d come back,” Higgs said quietly as he swallowed, trying to stifle a cough. Fragile sighed and shrugged.

“I know you, Higgs. The last thing you’d do is take care of yourself.”

“Look at you gettin’ all sentimental over me. You finally decided to chisel some ice off your heart?” Higgs remarked sarcastically, his lip pulling into a tired smirk as Fragile did her best not to smile. She shook her head, trying to play it off.

“Funny you should mention that. You might need some before your brain overheats.” Fragile countered, finally putting the cargo box down that had the supplies Higgs was going to need.

Fragile looked around the bunker in silence, seeking out a stool or something she could sit on while tending to Higgs’s injuries. He had gotten into a turf war with MULEs, and never being much of a fighter, got his ass handed to him. Fragile had been occasionally meeting up with Higgs, checking on his progress since then. She owed him that much considering he saved her life from said MULEs, having been ambushed on a delivery. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect considering Fragile was ill-prepared, to say the least this time around.

Coming across an old chair, Fragile pulled it up to the bed and Higgs adjusted then began to pull off his shirt, exposing his chest and the various cuts and bruises, patched with bandages that painted his form. He swallowed nervously, still not used to this part of the treatment Fragile had cooked up for him. Higgs didn’t like being vulnerable, and in a way, considering what he had put her through in regards to her body, this was karma putting him in his proper place.

Higgs let out a cough as Fragile’s eyes roamed over his body, her gaze calculating as she observed how far along Higgs was healing.

“Am I dying, doc?” Higgs asked playfully as Fragile’s eyes briefly met with his before lifting up some of the bandages, causing Higgs to wince.

“There’s some infection, but once I give you the medicine it should clear up in a few days.” Fragile said.

“Didn’t you tell me that last time you were here?” Higgs asked while Fragile opened up the cargo box and began to pull out bottles of pills and other medicinal goods. Higgs carefully observed everything she pulled out while keeping still, not wanting to hurt himself further. He could take the pain, Higgs was accustomed to it, but being sick on top of it all had been a struggle even for the likes of him.

“I might have.” Fragile commented, then started cleaning the wounds on his abdomen. Higgs winced and let out a pained laugh at her response.

“You tryin’ to give me false hope?” Higgs asked.

“Maybe. You’ll never know.” For once in what felt like an eternity, Fragile smiled up at him. It was brief, maybe even less than a millisecond, but Higgs dedicated it to his memory. His own lips forming into a satisfied grin before he winced, his body tensing up from the stings.

“Try to hold still. I know it hurts.” Fragile reassured him, occasionally looking at his face to see his reactions. She tried to make her movements gentle, but quick enough to where Higgs didn’t have to endure too much pain on his end. Fragile sighed from time to time as she cleaned, then worked her way to the gashes in his upper chest. He was quite lucky he didn’t need stitches, but regardless, Fragile had brought in a kit just in case.

“I’m a little dizzy. I feel like I got pressure building up behind my eyes.” Higgs remarked his tone honest which surprised Fragile. She was prepared for more bantering on his end, so the sincerity took her aback.

“Close your eyes. That always helps when I get migraines.”

“You get migraines?” Higgs quirked a brow, looking at Fragile as she nodded.

“I get them often. Avoiding light and sleeping it off helps me.”

“Well, shit.” Higgs remarked with a tired chuckle as Fragile stared at him. He took a moment to clear his throat, swallowing some mucus that had built up in his mouth. “I’ve known you for a long time and I never took you for someone with headache problems.”

“You sound a little too enthusiastic to hear that.” Fragile said as Higgs scoffed, deciding not to say anything further on the matter. He was thankful when Fragile finished up cleaning the wounds and started throwing another set of bandages on after applying medicine to each cut. The cool liquid made Higgs tremble from the stinging sensations, but Fragile’s touch soothed them over. He took her advice to heart and closed his eyes. His breathing becoming more stable as time went on despite whatever subconscious apprehensions he had towards his former business partner touching him.

Higgs was nearly asleep until he heard Fragile rummage through the box, pulling out an IV, tube, and a large needle. His eyes widened briefly as he shook his head.

“No.”

“Higgs,”

“I said no.” His tone was firm this time around as he looked at Fragile. There was a vulnerability in his blue eyes that reminded her of when she confronted him on the beach, her hands cradling his face before she decked his lights out. As much as Higgs deserved it back then, seeing him now with a similar gaze, made Fragile feel somewhat guilty.

“Higgs, you’re dehydrated. You’re running a fever, and you have an infection. As much as you like to play off you have a death wish, we both know better.” Fragile said as a matter of fact, her voice soft as she could see he was working things out in his head despite his eyes fixated on her like a wounded animal.

“I’m not your father.” Fragile said, and Higgs blinked a few times as he stared at the IV in her hands, the needle too as if it were going to jump at him like a bug. He forced himself to give a nod, taking in a deep breath as Fragile gently took Higgs’s left arm and flipped it over. She found a vein in the upper part and quickly jabbed the needle under his flesh. The way his face contorted as he muttered curses under his breath made Fragile comfort him as she rubbed at the pained spot. Her spare hand putting the IV up on a small stand and then brushing some strands of hair from his face.

“Shh. It’s okay. Everything’s going to work out.” Fragile reassured him as Higgs’s arm pulsated while he hissed, feeling the liquid from the IV beginning to enter his system. He could taste metallic on his tongue accompanied by something bitter that reminded Higgs of the time he had eaten a mouth full of ants when rations had run low on a delivery run. He grimaced thinking about it as Fragile took a few moments to look him over before she got up.

Fragile pulled an extra blanket out of the box, covering Higgs up with it along with the others he had.

“Any chance you’ll give me a kiss and tuck me in?” Higgs asked teasingly, trying to be a smartass to placate his own insecurities and childhood trauma reeling its ugly head in his mind.

Fragile shook her head at the remark, once more, not wanting to smile but her mouth betrayed her.

“You should get some rest. You’ll feel better soon. I’ll get a bath ready for you in the other room. I’ll check on you in a little while.”

Higgs quietly watched as Fragile packed up everything and then got ready to venture into the other room of his bunker.

“Fragile, wait.” Higgs pleaded, causing her turn around.

“Yeah?”

“It’s nothing, but thank you.”

Higgs was full of surprises, but in Fragile’s mind, he was on quite the streak. Sighing she went back over to the bed, her hand reaching out to his face. Higgs flinched for obvious reasons and her fingers retreated back only to slowly inch forward and cup his right cheek. Her thumb caressed over the scruff that was overtaking his skin as her eyes roamed over his. He looked like a child then, being cared for the first time. Higgs closed his eyes and leaned into her hand.

“Do you think I could ever make it alright for us?” Higgs asked quietly, and Fragile’s touch gently retreated away. He asked a good question, but nonetheless, it put her mind into a predicament. Honestly, considering what he had put her through, Fragile didn’t want to give Higgs another chance. She already gave Higgs one at the beach by not shooting him. Still, her mind brought up memories from before Amelie had come into the picture.

Higgs was someone Fragile had counted on. His charisma, the way he valued his work, the way he motivated others in their respective companies, made him seem like a beacon of light in a dark room. She missed how hopeful he was, and how hopeful he made her feel about things. She missed her best friend.

“Don’t die on me, okay?” Fragile requested as Higgs nodded at her. It wasn’t the answer he was wanting to hear, but her words gave him a slither of hope of something to look forward to when he recovered. Higgs closed his eyes yet again after moving his body down the bed, getting comfortable for rest.

“No promises.” Higgs murmured playfully before his eyes started to grow heavy from the headaches and from Fragile tending to his injuries. When he passed out, Fragile swallowed and closed her own eyes. Her hands reaching up to wipe the sweat forming on her brow. There was a lot on her mind, so many concerns, and worries not just for Higgs, but herself.

She got up, swallowed her pride, and went to go draw the bath for Higgs like she said. The whole time, thinking about how they were going to move forward.

**A link to my ko-fi account. If you enjoy my content and want to support me getting my monthly medication for fibromyalgia and arthritis, I would be eternally grateful. It is NOT a requirement however! All my work is free to read!**

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