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7ndipity · 9 months ago

Text

Sweet Morning

Yoongi x Reader

Summary: Just a lil thing about Yoongi looking after his S/o when they wake up sore after a particularly intense night together.

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: slightly suggestive, implied smut, implied drinking, swearing, mentions of bruises, bathing? not proofread

A/N: I’m back! Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! I decided to stick with Yoongi for this one, but if you’d like similar blurbs for the other members, let me know! This turned out a lot softer(and longer) than I planned, but I couldn’t help it, I love sweet caregiver Yoongi 🥺(also, I wrote part of this at like 4am, so I’m sorry if it’s eh)

Masterlist

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At first, you thought the late morning sunlight was what woke you, managing to shine through a gap in the curtains directly in your face and pulling you from the cozy cocoon of sleep. The shifting weight of the bed behind you though proved otherwise, a sleepy grin spreading across your face as you felt a familiar pair of arms slip around your middle, a set of warm lips leaving a trail of soft kisses along your bare shoulder.

“Morning.” Yoongi rasped, his voice somehow even deeper first thing in the morning.

You hummed contentedly, memories of the night before flickering back through your mind as you stretched.

Yoongi’s lips somehow never leaving yours for more than a moment as you’d fumbled through the front door and to the bedroom, clothes hastily discarded in your wake, tasting the whiskey he’d drank at dinner on his tongue. Falling back on the bed with him, desperation making each touch somehow feel a thousand times more potent, swallowing each other's moans as you rode out wave after wave of pleasure til you were both too exhausted to continue, falling asleep still clinging to one another.

Yoongi’s feather light touches pulled you back to the present, in stark contrast to the night before as his lips drifted up the side of your neck.

"What time is it?" You asked sleepily.

“Late, but I have the day off.” He murmured, pressing a kiss to the faint purple mark that was forming just below your ear. “What do you want to do today?”

“I think this is pretty good,” You replied happily, rolling over to face him, but pausing midway as you winced, hissing slightly at the pain in your lower half.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, brow furrowing in concern.

“I’m just a little sore from last night.” You said easily, trying to pull him in to connect your lips, but he pulled back, looking down at you with growing alarm.

“Did I hurt you?” He asked, sounding horrified.

“What? No, Baby, I’m fine.” You quickly tried to convince him, but he sat up, gently tugging the blankets away from your body.

“Fuck.” He whispered.

Your skin was littered with hickeys and marks from him, some faint and barely discernible, others blooming in deep shades of red and purple.

He didn’t remember leaving so many marks, but when he was with you, it was like his brain shut off. All he could remember was the taste of your skin and all the sweet noises you made every time he’d dragged his teeth across your flesh.

His frown deepened as his eyes landed on the marks that decorated your hips and thighs, faint imprints of his fingers evidence of his vice-like grip on you from the night before.

He traced a finger over the marks, causing you to wince slightly, shivering from sensitivity. His attention snapped back to your face.

“Fuck.” He repeated, looking at you sadly. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

“Yoongi, I’m okay, really.” You tried to reassure him, trying not to grimace as you sat up, but he just shook his head.

“I shouldn’t have been so rough with you.” He said.

“I wanted you to be rough.” You reminded him, catching hold of his hands to pull him closer. “Did you once hear me complain last night?”

He shook his head again.

“Exactly, because there was no reason to. Everything about last night was amazing.” You said, caressing his face gently. “You made me feel so good, you always make me feel so good."

He smiled faintly in spite of himself, leaning into you instinctively as you kissed him, his lips dropping back into a frown as he felt you wince again as you tried to press closer to him.

He pulled away, looking at you softly.

“Wait here.” He said, climbing off the bed.

You did as he asked, sinking back into the covers as your eyes drifted closed.

You couldn’t lie, as much as you might have enjoyed the night before, you were beyond tired, your whole body feeling heavy and achy.

You had nearly fallen back to sleep before Yoongi returned, smiling down at your sleepy form for a moment before rousing you gently.

“Come on.” He said, tugging you up from the bed.

He helped you up slowly, wrapping an arm around your waist for support as he guided you to the bathroom, the scent of lavender enveloping you as you stepped through the door.

He’d prepared the bath just the way you liked, even setting a few of your favorite bath bombs out for you to choose from, as well as lighting a few of your favorite candles to further set the mood.

“What’s all this?” You asked, looking at him in surprise.

He didn’t answer right away, focusing instead on helping you slide in, smiling at the way your eyes fell shut as you sank into the warm water.

“Feel alright?” He finally spoke.

“Mmm.” You hummed, looking up at him expectantly. “Aren’t you getting in too?”

“I can, if you want me to.” He said uncertainly.

“I want you to.” You said, shifting forward to give him enough space to sit behind you.

He slipped in quickly, letting you lay back against him as he grabbed a cloth and started to wash you.

Normally, you’d argue a bit with him, just for the hell of it, saying something about how you were perfectly capable of washing yourself, but you let it go this time, enjoying the feeling of his gentle touch.

“Do you feel any better?” He asked after a bit.

“Mhm,” You practically purred. “Thank you.”

“Thank you.” He replied.

“For what?” You glanced up at him quizzically.

He shrugged. “Letting me have you.”

You grinned.

“You know, you didn’t make it out of last night unscathed either.” You said, poking a mark on his neck, making him wince slightly.

“At least I can still walk though.” He said pointedly.

“I can walk!” You argued.

“Like a penguin.” He smirked.

“Yah!” You splashed him, making him laugh. “I thought you were being nice to me?!”

“I’m just trying to keep things balanced.” He said, kissing your temple. “I can’t spoil you too much.”

You pouted, making him chuckle.

“I love you.” he said, pecking your cheek.

“Love you too.”

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

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danikamariewrites · 1 year ago

Note

Hi lovely if your still taking requests can u pls do a

Azriel and rhysand ddlg poly relationship where reader is on her period and feels really sick on top of that as well like she has a fever and has really bad cramps aswell and keeps trying to hid/deal with it on there own but is throwing up a lot and passing out soo it just gets worsw

bc I’m thats me currently i have a flu 🤒 and am on my period i feel like death i wish i had someone to comfort me and watch after me lol 😂

We’ll Always Take Care of You

Rhysriel x reader

A/n: I still can’t believe I goofed on the other rhysriel ask I’m literally so embarrassed like what is wrong with my brain 🫣

And I’m sorry you’re so sick! I’ve had the flu and my period at the same time and I wouldn’t wish that upon anyone it’s awful

Warnings: poly relationship, ddlg, daddy kink, mentions of pain and sickness, and typos bc I’m very tired lol

You were thankful that your doting mates weren’t with you this morning since you woke up drenched in sweat and shaking. Your cycle hit you in the middle of the night so you thought that the sick feeling taking over your body was related.

Oh how wrong you were.

You thought you made it through flu season successfully unscathed. Your latest trip to the city must’ve been where you caught it. You knew that little boy at the cafe table next to you was sick. Kicking yourself mentally you vowed to never be around another violently coughing child again.

You could get through this. You’d been sick and had your cycle before. It was unpleasant but bearable with the help of tonics from Madja. Pulling yourself out of bed you hobble to the bathroom to down one or two tonics before heading to your study.

The pain didn’t feel so bad after you took the tonics. You felt good for a while. Then a coughing fit had you bending over making your cramps worse. Your throat felt like a barren desert and you couldn’t get a breath in to help you. Once it had passed you laid on the floor, breathing in and out, in and out, until that sore scratchy feeling in your throat went away.

You wanted to stay on the floor forever. Another pang in your abdomen has you curling up in a ball, rolling on to your side. As the pain subsides you check to make sure your side of the bond was closed. The last thing you wanted was to project your pain to Az and Rhys.

You have to admit, you were a little hurt that neither of your mates have come to check on you. You were craving their attention right now, but you were determined to make it through your work today. Then tomorrow you would relax.

By lunch time you were dragging yourself around. Your body felt heavy and you have a splitting headache that you can feel behind your eyes. All you want to do was sleep with a cool cloth on your head. You have to pull yourself together, you didn’t want to worry Rhys and Azriel. Although you do love to be babied by them. But they were so busy lately you didn’t want to distract them.

Sitting in your usually seat you use magic to hide your scent. The mix of sickness and blood making your nose twitch.

The pair enter the room deep in discussion about something happening in Illyria. Good, they haven’t noticed you yet. Az and Rhys sit in their usual seats across from you, giving you twin loving smiles. “We haven’t seen you all day princess, I’m so sorry.” Az coos at you.

You smile back at them through the pain that’s coursing through your body. “It’s ok,” you croak out. Rhys tilts his head, giving you a concerned look as you feel him tug on the bond. Phantom claws gently caress your mental shields that you push back against.

“You’re pale darling. What’s wrong?” You give him a tight lipped smile. “Nothing Rhysie, I’m fine.” Rhysie gives you a disapproving look. “What have we said about lying darling?” Avoiding their gazes you look down at your hands. Tears prick the corners of your eyes, not able to hold back your emotions from the intense pain you are experiencing. You immediately felt small, the need for your mates to take care of you becoming overwhelming.

“You said not to, I’m sorry daddy.” You let your tears fall, letting go of the shield around you Rhys and Azriel were by your side in an instant. Both wrapping their arms around you. “Why didn’t you say anything to us?” Azriel asks softly. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

Rhys clicks his tongue at you. “We’d drop everything to take care of you. Especially when you’re this sick. Let’s get you back to bed.” Azriel scoops you up in his arms leaving a gentle kiss against your forehead.

“She’s burning up Rhys.” His tone full of fear. Rhys looked back and saw you practically passed out in Azriel’s arms. They took off toward the bedroom.

The next morning you woke up to Rhys sitting in bed next to you. Letting out a groan you roll over, snuggling into his side. “Hi baby, how are you feeling?” You let out a louder groan. Rhys chuckles as he brings a hand down to play with your hair.

You prop yourself up on your elbows and they immediately start to shake from how weak you are. Looking around the room you notice Az is missing. “Where’s Azzy?” The door opens revealing Azriel carrying a tray of mugs of tea.

“Good you’re up. How are you feeling?” You flop back on the bed face down. “I feel like the Bogge ran at me then stomped on my stomach.”

“Aaww our poor baby.” Az coos at you. He sits on the other side of you and rubs soothing circles on your back. You hear him uncork a tonic bottle, picking you up to lean against his chest. “Here baby take this.” You open your mouth for him to dump the liquid down your throat.

Azriel moves to lay you back down but you cling to him, shifting to lay on him. “Will you both hold me?” You mumble out. “Of course.” Rhys whispered kissing the back of your ruffled head. You already felt better being nestled between them even though you had a long week ahead of you.

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beskarinhyperspace · 1 year ago

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The Intern

It's Halloween night and you work on set with Hayden Christensen.

Who wants to party with Anakin?

Hayden/ Anakin x Gn Reader

AO3 | MASTERLIST

*Mature, Explicit, NSFW*

Warnings; shy hayden, soft dom, n3pple play, or4l- hayden.receiving, praise, soft degradation

Happy Halloween!

WC; 3k

You only been working here for 3 months. Getting everyone their coffees and scripts. Making sure that everything goes as smoothly as possible for the cast members and directors. But this internship was getting on your last nerve. How can anyone survive these boring and unchallenging tasks. This is truly unfulfilling you tell yourself as you eat your lunch alone in the cafeteria. You only took the job because you needed to be more “involved on set and understand the flow” as your professor puts it.

As you play with your macaroni salad with a plastic spoon, you hear someone entering the room. By instinct, you bring your eyes up to meet a handsome man.

“Oh, sorry I didn’t mean to disturb..” cutting himself mid-sentence.

“Oh no, no worries, you're not.” You reply mindlessly not fully realizing that it's Hayden Christensen who just entered the break room. You wouldn't say that you're easily starstruck, but you must admit, he looks better in person.

He smiles timidly, going towards the coffee machine. “Got to have my caffeine. I- woke up early.” saying nervously.

Watching him try to make small talk is utterly painful. He doesn't need to talk to you. So why is he acting so weird?

“Busy?” You asks, trying to sound casual.

“Yeah, I mean, I was in Seattle yesterday. Matter of fact I just landed here not even two hours ago.” Saying as he clicks a plastic lid on his coffee cup. “What's your name? Wait don't tell me. This way I know I'll see you again.” He smiles to you before looking at his watch. “I'm really sorry, I have to go. See you around I guess..”

“Bye” you finally speak out, but he was already out the door. What the fuck just happened?

For the rest of the day, you couldn't stop thinking about the most pathetic celebrity encounter you have ever had in your life, yet. I mean he's a big celebrity and he's busy. He said so himself. It's not like you're going to see him again, right?

“Hey newbie, the director wants a round of coffee. He's also asking if you contacted the new hairstylist to see if they can come tomorrow instead of Wednesday?”

“I did, she said yes, and I'll go get them shortly.” You reply nonchalantly. The other assistant simply smiles at you before walking away. Ugh, can this day be any worse? This is the 5th coffee run today and you only have an hour left to your shift. Without wasting any time, you go straight to your car. Not wanting to stay overtime again. Especially not today. Once behind the wheel, you sigh as you decide to have a look at your face. Jeez, I really look tired. I can't believe I just met him looking like this. What am I saying? It's not like I have a chance anyway..

With 10 min left to your shift, you only have a couple coffees left to deliver. Opening the director's office door. You quickly recognize Hayden’s side profile.

What is he still doing here? Never mind, just stay professional.

“I'm here Jay, bringing the hot!” You say with a bright smile.

You hear a clear sigh coming from Hayden’s direction as you put the coffees on the meeting's table. As you try to look discreetly in his direction, you're met with his intense gaze. Why is he looking at me like that? He wasn't like that earlier.. Did I do something wrong?

“Thank you, I really needed that. Hey, listen kid, would you mind staying later tonight?” Jay asks casually while scribbling in his notebook.

“I–“ tonight is Halloween night and some of your friends invited you to join them at a party. Usually, you would've said no but this job had been so draining lately. You just want a little break.

He stops writing to look at you properly, “I know you've been staying late a lot but that's only because I trust you kid. You're doing an incredible job here..”

“I'm okay with it, I mean that's the least I can do before I leave.” You say calmly trying to not let your annoyance show through.

He gives you a weak smile before returning to his scribbles. “Anita was looking for you earlier, I think she's in costume right now.”

“I'll go check, anything else?”

“I think you'll be pretty busy with her tonight, I'll let you work with her. If anything, I'll fetch you.”

You nod before turning around. Fighting back the urge to look at Hayden again before leaving. Stay professional, this will never happen. We don't want him to think you're just another stupid fan. Just stay cool..”

You sigh walking towards Anita’s workshop. As you walk the corridors, you feel a strong hand gripping your arm. You turn to a taller men with frowning brows.

“Hey, um, I'm sorry. It's just I've been yelling and–“ You look to Hayden puzzled. “I guess what I'm trying to say is, um, ask, would you go out after with me?”

You look at him like you have a million questions inside your head. While he looks at you anxiously waiting. “I work late tonight.”

He nervously passes a hand in his hair, “right, yes, that's true. Shit, I'm sorry I shouldn't have bothered you. Have a great night..” he says looking at the floor, slowly walking away.

What the actual fuck? Ugh, I'm going to regret this.. “I'm off at 11.” Raising your voice to make sure he hears you.

He smiles as he faces you. “What's fun to do around here at 11?”

His smile is truly contagious, making you blush automatically, “I was invited for a Halloween party-”

“Cool, I'll come back to pick you up 11:30” walking away once again before you could place another word.

Oh jeez, what did I get myself into..

You were doing some final make up touches before heading out the door. This year's last-minute costume is a vampire. As you're drawing some electric reddish veins underneath your eyes you can't stop thinking about the fact that you're going to a party with fucking Hayden Christensen. How did this happen? How are you going to explain this to your friends? This is going to be a big problem. You try to calm yourself down. Telling yourself that this is just a friendship situation. Omg is he a womanizer? No, that can't be it. He looked way too nervous to be one, right?

It's 11:35 and you're patiently waiting outside when a car enters the driveway. Seeing it's him, you walk towards the car, opening the door. As you're putting your seatbelt on, you can feel the heavy energy in the air as if you were being observe.

“Wow” you hear him say softly in a low voice. “You really look good.” Shyly, you bring your eyes up to be met by his, looking at you shamelessly. He clears his throat quickly as he realize his behaviour, “where to?” he finally asks.

“Omg”— “What??”

“You can't wear that.” You say almost horrified.

He laughs knowing exactly what you’re referring to. “It’s not that bad”

“This, this is your Anakin costume..” you state gesturing his outfit.

“Don't worry about it.”

“Do you seriously believe that this is discrete? Everyone will know it's you. You have a pretty memorable face you know.”

He laughs even more, “So I've been told. Stop, I told you, don't worry. Just tell me where it is.”

“I don't know if I should, maybe you're a kidnapper.” you say nonchalantly.

He tries not to laugh as he bites his lower lips. “Then we can stay here.”

“We?”

“Yeah, I mean don't get me wrong I like a party as much as the next person but, I want to know you. I don't mind where we are as long as I can talk to you.”

You can't control your smile as you feel warmth in your stomach. Suddenly the self-doubts and questioning just fades away. This is a date.. omg, you're on a date with him.. you clear your throat, “I’d like to go, I really need this.”

“Stressed?” Asking as he punches the address in the map app and starts to drive.

“You could say that.”

“Yeah, I'm familiar with the feeling. The ‘set’ life isn't always glamorous.”

“You're an actor, it's different, you're the star.”

He bites his bottom lip before replying, “well, the pressure is like no other. There are so many fans, so many critics. You need to have a thick skin. Plus you have to put yourself in so many weird situations. Trust me, it's stressful.”

“Yeah, I guess you're right, I never saw it like that.” You replied as he smiles softly. You notice that you've been quite comfortable in his presence compared to earlier this morning. He looks so self-assured and in control of himself you tell yourself. How can he be so grounded?

During the ride you finally get to relax and enjoy your small talks. That was until you finally arrive at the party. Now all you can think about is the fact that your plus one is Hayden. As you both walk towards the house door, you can already hear the music blasting from outside.

“Heyyy!!”—“You came!” You hear your friends calling.

“Yeah, I actually just finished work–“

“–OMG are you the real Anakin? Like the actor?”— “I think his name is Hayden.”— “that's not him, that can't be him.”

“Yeah, well, I always been told we looked alike, so I went with an Anakin costume this year.” Hayden responds smiling casually to the others.

“You don't say” —”well it’s uncanny, you really do look like him.” One girl lets out.

You roll your eyes, “stop bothering my friend. Anyways, we're gonna have a look around, we'll be right back” stating as you both walk away. “I told you that dressing as Anakin was a bad idea..” you say leaning towards him.

He turns his head slightly to you as he tries to hear you better over the loud music, “Then let's get out of here. You know, to a place we can actually hear each other?”

“Yeah, let's get out.” You reply and he doesn't waste a second. Guiding you back to the car. “Where now?” You ask as you put on your seatbelt back on.

“I know a place near.”

As you watch the car lights passing over him. You can't help but smile, he is so handsome, so hot.. Especially in his battle attire. “You do that often?”

“What do I do often?” Glancing quickly in your direction.

“Kidnapping interns on set.”

He automatically let out some low giggles. “Ahh, huh, um no..” he answered shyly. “I don't..” Before you could place a word, he enters a hidden dirt road.

“Oh, so you did plan to murder me.”

He gives you a smirk, “Nah, you're way too pretty for me to kill..”

After a moment you stop in front of a wooden bridge. “What is this place?”

“Patience” he simply respond as he stops the car. “Come”

You follow him without hesitation, crossing the bridge before going deeper into the woods. “Is it safe?” You asks voice worried.

He takes your hand as he leads, “I used to come here all the time when I was a teenager.”

“You grew up here?”

He chuckles, “No, my aunt lived nearby. I used to visit every summer for a month with my mother.”

After a few minutes of walking off road you finally arrived at a secluded part of a lake. “Woah, it's so pretty.. I lived here all my life, and I never knew this place existed.” You were truly amazed by the view. The moon was almost full. Shining it's light on the lake like diamonds on calm waters. Making everything a little more visible in this otherwise very dark night.

“I can't believe it, it's still there-” you hear him say from afar. You glanced at him, watching him drag a tree trunk towards you. “-Look” he says pointing to a part of the trunk.

·The true Skywalker was here·

You smile as you read it, “You wrote that? How fitting, you're even dress for the occasion.” You state gesturing to his costume.

“Ha, yeah, I haven't come here in ages. Last time I came to visit, I made a little stop here. I had just received the call to play Anakin and I knew the role would change my life. I know it sounds stupid but, I wanted something to remember the old me by.” He responds as he looks at you nervously. “You're really beautiful tonight.” saying low, almost a whisper. Coming to close the gap between you.

“Thank you, and no, it’s not stupid. I actually think it’s pretty cool..” You don't know if it's the proximity, his firm yet soft voice or the fact that you would literally do anything he'd ask you to, but you can already feel the pulsing need in between your legs. Is he really going to kiss me? You wondered.

As if he could hear your mind, he presses his pillowy lips softly against yours. Humming as he does. “Since I saw you this morning this is all I can think about.”

“What?” You ask confused.

“I couldn't look away; you were constantly on my mind. I had to know you more.” He says passing his hands on your chest over the clothes. “Is this, okay? C-can I know more of you?”

You swallow, “yes of course, I'd love to.” trying not to sound too desperate.

He smirks and omg, his smile mixed with desire is to die for. He goes back to your mouth with his lips slightly parted. Pushing his tongue gently inside. Jeez even his spit is sweet. Meanwhile, his hands were going underneath your shirt, moving upwards. He growls low when reaching your nipples. Brushing them lightly with his cold fingertips before he starts to flicker them.

You try to stay grounded but it's becoming really difficult. His eyes were burning with desire as he watch you melt under his touch. “Wow, we just started and you're already so needy.”

“I'm sorry” you say slightly embarrassed.

“Don't be, I love it.” He purrs, moving slightly lower as he brings your shirt up, exposing your entire chest to him. “Mm, would you look at that. They're already hard and ready for me.” Stating as he brings his wet lips around your hardened nipple. Giving it some gentle sucks as his thumb flickers and rolls the other one.

Oh god, this feels amazing.

He hums deep, switching between them as his mouth licks and bites them gently. You're pretty sure that if he doesn't stop you might just cum like this. “Fuck, you're so hot. I bet you also feel so good and soft elsewhere” You nod while moaning as you feel the need growing inside you belly. “Can I feel you?”

“Yes, please, anything.”

He smiles kissing your lips, nibbling at your bottom one. He starts to undo his belt and you automatically drop to your knees. “Hey, that's not– “

“I want to.” you say smiling against his bulge. You start to unzip his pants letting his harden cock spring free. Geez even his penis is gorgeous. Long and thick with a little bead of precum already leaking from the tip. You can clearly see the veins pumping as it twitches with anticipation.

“Are you still sure?” He asks laughing discretely. Aware of your startled eyes.

You don't bother to answer as you start to shyly lick the tip of it. You hear him chuckle softly as he closes his eyes to the pleasure. Which only drives you with more heat as you start to stretch your mouth around him. “Ugh, this feels soo good sweetheart. You're doing such a great job” his words are only encouraging you to finally take it full. Sucking him like you never sucked before. Gaging slightly when you made it hit the back of your throat, but it didn't matter. Because his moans and panting were the best reward you ever had. His head falls back as his pleasure grow.

Becoming desperate, you needed some relief. Bringing your hand down, you begin to play with yourself while still moaning around his cock.

He quickly notices it as he passes his hand in your hair. Petting your head before grabbing a fist full of it. “Argh fuck yes, you're so fucking good baby. So, fucking good with this mouth, omg. Such a pretty mouth on such a pretty babe.”

The praises are just too much. You can feel him fighting the urge to thrust into your mouth. Making touch yourself with desperation as he almost chokes up. “Wait, are you going to cum like this?” You nod as you continue to pump him inside your mouth. Feeling your sweet release near. “Oh, fuck..” he says surprised, “I didn't know you were so needy.” as he's softly pinching one of your nipples.

And that does it. You finally feel the waves of pleasure as your eyes closes slightly. Having your mouth fully open during your peak, making his cock loosely slides freely on your tongue. “Shit, you're so hot when you come like that. Please, can I come on your chest?”

You simply smile as you present your bare chest to him. Playing with your nipples, rolling them in between your fingers. You watch him stroke himself as he grunts low. Panting as he brings himself closer to the edge. “Agh, you're so god damn pretty..” He finally cums, letting his juices drip freely drip on your nipples.

“Fuck, you're so perfect sweetheart..”

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waytooinvested · 4 months ago

Text

Forgotten, Not Forgiven - Chapter 19

This and previous chapters are also on AO3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She hadn’t meant to sleep at all, but somewhere around 7am Lena drifted into a light doze and lingered there, halfway between sleep and waking, until she felt Kara stir against her side an hour later. A sleep-heavy arm was draped across her waist, and Kara burrowed her shoulder softly, only half-way conscious of her surroundings. Then, as if suddenly remembering that snuggling was not in their usual friendship repertoire, she stilled.

‘Hey.’

Lena turned her head on the pillow to meet Kara’s gaze, finding her sleep rumpled and bleary eyed, her cheek creased with pillow lines and hair mussed into a tangle that caught the early morning sun like a halo of gold around her face. She looked so soft and cuddly like this that it made Lena’s breath catch, as the knowledge of what it would be like to wake up with Kara (not just beside her, but with Kara) hit her squarely in the chest.

‘Good morning...’

For a few indulgent heartbeats she let herself imagine pulling Kara in close for a morning cuddle while she was still all snuggly and drowsy like this. Kissing the golden tangle of her hair, then tilting her chin up to kiss her lips…

She pulled back from the thought before it could travel any further along this dangerous, tantalising road and stretched, the movement causing Kara to shift away just enough to allow Lena to think about something other than how cute she looked when she had just woken up.

‘How are you feeling today? Any bad dreams?’

‘Nope. I thought I would have, but I guess I felt safe with you being here... Thanks for looking after me last night.’

‘Always.’

The word slipped out so naturally that it was a moment before Lena realised everything it implied. Always. Not just until Kara’s memories were back. Not just if they worked out their differences and found a way to be together afterwards. No matter how bitterly they might fight, if Kara truly needed her she knew now that she would be there. Always.

‘So, what do you need today to help you start to recover?’

‘Huh? What do you mean recover? I’m not sick!’

Kara sounded genuinely puzzled, as if she hadn’t been caught in the grips of a terror so strong that she had barely been able to perceive her surroundings a few hours earlier. Lena answered carefully, not sure if Kara was just trying to put the whole experience behind her, and not wanting to push her too far if she wasn’t ready to engage with it.

‘No, I know you’re not sick, but last night was pretty traumatic for you, so I thought you might need a bit of support to deal with that...’

Before she was even done Kara was laughing, waving the suggestion away as if she had implied she might need to go to the ER for a scraped knee.

‘Oh, that! Lena, that was just a panic attack. I told you, I get them sometimes when I get claustrophobic, it’s not a big deal. I’m totally fine now. No more tight space, no more panic. Simple!’

‘Just a panic attack? Kara, you were petrified. And what you told me about the dream you had… it seemed a lot more that.’

She shrugged. ‘Okay, so I guess I panic big, I don’t know. I’m fine now though.’

‘Do you remember what happened in the dream journey with Nia?’

‘Sure. I tried to crawl through a tunnel and it was really small, and I got kind of claustrophobic. I guess I must have been breathing fast or something because you noticed and woke me up, and then I cried on you a bit, and then we went to bed. I’m sorry if asking you to stay over made it seem like a bigger deal than it was – it was just nice to have someone else here is all.’

While Kara’s version of events could loosely have been said to have described what happened the night before, it did not at all tally with the intensity Lena remembered. So how was Kara talking about it so casually? How did she seem so completely unaffected mere hours after coming out of the most horrific confrontation of every moment of pain and terror Supergirl had ever faced?

Oh.

Every terror Supergirl had faced.

Could it be that what Kara had experienced in the dream-space was close enough to being a Kryptonian memory that her mind had rejected it, to be replaced with the much more every day human explanation of a claustrophobic panic attack? Lex’s barrier was clever, she had to give him that. Twisted, cruel and evil, but clever. To get back to herself Kara would have to break through all of that pain and fear in a single push, or every failed attempt would simply add another layer to the wall between her human and kryptonian memories.

She reached up a hand to rub at her temple, trying to puzzle it all through and come up with a way their new insight might help them beat this, but as soon as the covers fell away Kara gasped.

‘Your arms! Oh my god, did someone hurt you? Who did this?’

Lena looked down at her own arms to see that the bruises that had been starting to surface the evening before had turned dark over night, blooming into a vivid purple-pansy ring around each forearm, ugly and shocking against her pale skin.

‘Oh. No, no one, it’s nothing Kara.’

She tried to tuck them back out of sight under the covers, but Kara didn’t let her. She pulled the blankets right off her so she could see properly, sucking air through her teeth in a pained hiss as the undeniable evidence came back into view.

‘It’s not nothing, you’re covered in bruises…’

Kara took hold of the arm closest to her very gently, cradling it with one hand and tracing over the marks on her inner forearm with the other. Her touch was so feather-light it was barely there, and yet it made Lena shiver at the unexpected intimacy of the contact against such a sensitive part of her skin.

‘They’re finger marks, what-’

Then the realisation hit her, and Kara let go of her immediately, looking like she might be sick.

‘Oh. Oh Lena. I grabbed your arms last night. Did I do this to you?’

‘No… well… not really. It’s not as bad as it looks.’

‘I did. I hurt you. Oh God, I am so, so, so sorry, I can’t believe I did that to you. How could I have done that?’

Kara looked down at her own hands as if they didn’t belong to her, holding them away from her body like she might be able to detach them altogether for daring to harm Lena, no matter that it had been accidental and in the midst of visceral panic. Lena reached out to gather them into her own and pressed them gently, just barely resisting the temptation to give them an absolving kiss.

‘Darling, it’s truly fine. It wasn’t your fault, it’s just the way I’m built – my skin marks if my bra’s too tight, let alone at a firm hold. I know it looks bad, but it doesn’t even hurt, and it was a total accident. There’s nothing to feel sorry about.’

It wasn’t true that Lena bruised particularly easily, or that the marks didn’t hurt. But it was a kind lie, and one that Kara needed right now, because without remembering how bad her fear had truly been she had no other way of rationalising to herself how this had happened.

Kara was still staring at the livid marks as if she could feel the pain of them on her own skin, her telltale worry-crinkle clearly in evidence between her eyebrows, though she looked a tiny bit less sick.

‘Kara, if it was the other way round and I had accidentally bruised you, would you be mad at me for it?’

‘Well no, of course not. I know you wouldn’t hurt me on purpose.’

‘Exactly. So please stop worrying.’

The crinkle smoothed out, mostly.

‘At least let me make you breakfast to make up for it?’

Lena relaxed, glad to be back on safe ground.

‘Breakfast would be great. What were you thinking of making?’

‘I actually don’t have that much in so we may be a tiny bit limited on choice until I next have a chance to go grocery shopping... But I could do pancakes?’

‘Sure, I’m up for pancakes.’

‘Awesome, I am amazing at pancakes.’

The regret was still there beneath the layer of determined cheer, but after another glance down at the purple marks Kara tore her eyes away and met Lena’s with something approaching her usual sunny smile.

‘One short stack coming right up.’

Kara headed straight to the kitchen without bothering to change or try to tame the wild lion’s mane of her hair after a night of unsettled sleep, and it felt so incredibly domestic that Lena was momentarily incapacitated by the wave of melancholy longing that swept over her at the sight. This could have been her life. Maybe, if she had done things differently from the beginning, or if Kara had, this could have been what she woke up to every morning.

Lena allowed herself a few moments to wallow in the bittersweet ache of the thought, then she pulled herself together and got up, pausing only to grab the robe from the back of the bedroom door on her way out. She wanted to cover up the bruises on her arms so that Kara would stop looking at her like she thought she had broken her, and could always claim to be cold if asked. Right now Lena didn’t want to think about anything more than Saturday morning pancakes. Saturday morning pancakes, and making Kara’s smile reach her eyes.

There would be time enough time later to worry about everything else.

‘I don’t have any packet mix so I’m going to go from scratch. Six eggs is enough, right?’

‘Six? That is way too many eggs Kara!’

‘Are you sure?’

Lena rolled her eyes and hurried through to join Kara in the kitchen before she could use up an entire carton of eggs on pancakes for two people. Kara Danvers was many wonderful things, but an accomplished chef was not one of them.

She arrived to find that in the minute or so she had been out of sight, Kara had already tipped half a packet of flour and a lake of milk into a large mixing bowl, and was now merrily cracking eggs on top with far more enthusiasm than finesse, though she did fish out the bits of shell that fell into the mixture before she started stirring.

‘Exactly how many pancakes were you planning on making?’

‘I’m hungry! And there’s no such thing as too many pancakes.’

‘Okay… well why don’t you at least let me help you with that?’

She held out her hand for the bowl, but Kara hugged it to her chest with one arm and tried to shoo her away with the other.

‘Nope, absolutely not. I’m making you breakfast, remember? That was the deal. You can go and relax, I’ll let you know when they’re done.’

‘If I’m not allowed to help, can’t I just stay here and talk to you while you’re working?’

At least that way she would be close enough to head off any major crises.

And she’d get to watch Kara being an adorable disaster.

‘Okay, you can stay, but no helping. If you so much as try to wash a dish I am banishing you to the couch.’

‘Duly noted, I will be the most useless, in the way visitor ever to grace your kitchen.’

‘That’s all I ask.’

Kara did her best to stir the over-filled bowl of batter, but it wasn’t combining properly, the mixture staying resolutely lumpy under her whisk.

‘I’m going to get the electric mixer. I’m putting the bowl down, but don’t stir it.’

‘Yes ma’am.’

That promise became harder to keep when Kara started trying to fit together the electric mixer. It was clearly not an appliance she used very often, and it took her a good five minutes to track down the right attachments and work out how to slot them into the machine. All the while Lena stood a pace behind her, biting her lip to keep from offering to take over (after all, if there was one thing Lena Luthor was good at, it was figuring out machines). She held out for what felt to her like an extremely respectable amount of time, but at last she couldn’t take it anymore.

‘Kara, couldn’t I just-’

‘Nope! And that’s your second warning Ms Luthor, one more and you’re benched.’

‘Is that right?’

‘Afraid so. You looked after me last night, so now I’m looking after you, no arguments.’

So she let Kara bash away at the mixer and instead leaned back against the counter to watch her. She had to admit, much as she adored Kara dorky and sweet, she liked her assertive too. It was… appealing (it was attractive). Kara had pushed the sleeves of her pajamas up above her elbows, and in spite of her fumbling there was an assurance in the way she moved, forearms flexing as she tilted the mixer this way and that to find the space where the paddle slotted. She somehow managed to look competent and strong even as she made a mess of a simple kitchen task, and Lena was almost disappointed when the job was finished and Kara stood back triumphantly, holding out her hand for the mixing bowl. Lena passed it over, stepped close to witness the moment of triumph.

With a quick flick, Kara turned the dial up to full power, and the mixer whirred abruptly into life, its not-quite-fully-submerged whisk attachment hitting the edge of the off-centre bowl with an angry clatter that set the whole thing wobbling alarmingly. With the whisk now hitting it side-on, the batter surged up over the tilted edge in a wave, coating the table, the floor and both of them with a generous spattering of raw mixture.

‘Argh!’

Lena leaned over to yank the plug form the wall, wondering if this would count as ‘helping’ and get her banished, but it seemed that stopping a tidal wave of pancake batter from engulfing the entire kitchen was allowed.

‘Sorrysorryssorry! I can’t believe I just did that. Oh look at you, you’re covered.’

Kara passed over a clean dish towel, and Lena used it to wipe the worst of the batter off her face with a rueful little laugh.

‘At least you made plenty of extra, so we can afford to lose a bit.’

‘That is a very generous way of looking at the fact that I just half drowned you in goop. Are you sure you don’t want to go and sit over there, out of the splash zone?’

‘Nope, we’re in this together now. Besides, I think that’s the riskiest part done with. What’s left looks pretty well mixed.’

‘It had better be. No way I’m turning that thing on again.’

The remainder of the process actually went comparatively smoothly, and after another quick stir with a regular whisk Kara fried the first pancake without incident (wisely opting to turn it using a spatula rather than attempting to toss it, though she had looked briefly tempted). Once it was an even golden brown she tipped it carefully onto a plate, added a knob of butter and a drizzle of maple syrup, then handed it to Lena with a flourish.

‘Voila, breakfast is served!’

Lena took the offered plate while Kara poured a second ladleful of mixture into the pan, and examined it. It actually did look very pancake-like. If she hadn’t been here to watch the process, she would never have known that Kara didn’t make them every weekend.

Then she took her first bite.

...And immediately ran to the trash can to spit it out.

‘Oh my god. Kara what did you put in these?’

Kara looked surprised, and a bit hurt.

‘Nothing! I mean, nothing weird, I followed the recipe. Is it really that bad?’

‘Try it.’

Kara took the fork from her and cut herself a bite of pancake. Lena watched her as the syrup hit her tongue and Kara shrugged at her, not getting it. Then she chewed, choked, and rushed to spit the mouthful back out just as Lena had.

‘OH MY GOD.’

‘What is that?’

‘It is the worst thing I have ever put in my mouth.’

Despite the lingering bitter taste on her own tongue, Lena couldn’t help smirking at Kara’s disgusted expression. She was staring at the pancake as if she couldn’t believe that something that was meant to be so delicious could betray her like this.

‘But I followed the recipe!’

‘Is there any chance that you might have mistaken a tbsp for a tsp when you were measuring the baking powder?’

Kara looked crestfallen for a moment, then sheepish.

‘Um… well that would be a really stupid mistake to make. I don’t think that sounds like something I would do... Maybe the flour’s out of date or something?’

‘Mmhmm, that sounds plausible.’

‘Extremely plausible.’

‘So… you’re amazing at pancakes?’

‘I did say that, didn’t I? Well. I’m amazing at eating pancakes. I kind of assumed that that would translate to making them better than it did.’

She wasn’t sure which of them broke first, but in another moment they were both laughing, clinging to each other for support as they took in the total disaster of Kara’s culinary efforts. It was at this precise moment that they were interrupted by the sound of a key in the door, followed quickly by the appearance of Alex, laden down with a large paper bag and a cardboard tray of coffee cups.

‘Hey, I thought I’d drop round and check how you... were… doing?’

Her gentle ‘talking to an invalid’ tone petered out into a question mark as she came in further and caught sight of them, still arm in arm and grinning at each other like idiots amidst the mess of their attempted pancakes.

‘Um. WHAT is happening.’

‘Alex, hey! Come join us!’

‘Yes Alex, come and try one of these delicious pancakes Kara made.’

Beside her Kara cracked up all over again, and Alex’s eyebrows shot up at this further irrefutable proof of her sister so clearly not having a post trauma breakdown. She mouthed a silent ‘what??’ at Lena, but there was no way for her to explain in front of Kara, and she just shrugged helplessly while Kara nudged her playfully in the ribs for her suggestion.

‘DO NOT try the pancakes. They were… not my best effort.’

‘Yeah I see that… what happened?’

‘Kara didn’t let me help, that’s what happened.’

‘I wanted to make you breakfast!’

Alex shook her head at both of them, like a half exasperated, half amused adult walking in on a pair of children getting into mischief.

‘Well, you sure made something. Luckily for you guys I am the best sister ever, and I brought bagels. I thought you might not be up for much cooking after last night. And apparently I was right, even if not in the way I expected.’

‘After last night? Lena! You tattled on me to my big sister??’

‘Oh. I…um...’

Kara didn’t sound seriously angry, but Lena felt her cheeks heating all the same. Because yes, she had told Alex about Kara’s melt down. Of course she had. And worse, they regularly talked about how Kara was doing in much more detail than she would normally consider acceptable to discuss a mutual friend behind her back, but… they had to. If they were going to help her get her memories back, they had to talk about how she was dealing with their treatment attempts in order to move forwards. When Kara knew the full story she would understand that, but there was no way to fully explain now, especially when she had so completely recategorised last night in her mind.

However, Alex thankfully jumped in to let Lena off the hook before the silence could get too awkward.

‘Nia called me after she left. She said you seemed pretty upset, and was worried you’d be cross with her for asking you to do the dream journey.’

‘Oh no, poor Nia, of course I’m not cross with her! I’d better call her after breakfast… it must have looked scary to her, but it was seriously no big deal, it was just the old claustrophobia thing and I had a panic attack. It was nothing. Right Lena?’

Both Danvers sisters turned to Lena, and, not knowing what else to do, she nodded.

‘Sure... Kara, is something burning?’

‘Argh I forgot the second pancake!’

Kara ran back to the stove and switched it off, then went to open a window to let out the smoke that was billowing up from the charred remains of attempt number two. Lena took the opportunity to shake her head quickly and mouthed ‘later’ at Alex, trying to convey that there was more to the story, but it would have to wait until they could talk privately. Alex gave a brisk little nod of understanding, then put the subject aside as she came over to deposit her bag and cups on the cleanest bit of table she could find.

‘Okay, who wants bagels? Lena, I pegged you for a smoked salmon and cream cheese kinda gal, but I also have an everything with everything, a cinnamon raisin or a peanut butter chocolate chip.’

‘The salmon will be fine, thank you.’

‘Cool. Kara, I got the everything and the peanut butter chocolate with you in mind, but I don’t mind switching if you want cinnamon raisin.’

‘Nope I’m happy. We should probably clean up a little in here first though, if the batter dries it’s going to be impossible to get it off.’

Alex looked around, taking in the full extent of the mess with a low whistle.

‘You are not wrong, this place is a wreck. And did you pour a ladle full directly over Lena’s chest? How do you even get that much batter down the front of a robe by accident?’

Lena glanced down at herself and discovered that Alex had a point. Clearly when Kara had turned on the electric mixer she had been more directly in the splatter zone than she had realised, and now kind of looked as though she had thrown up all over herself. Even though she knew she hadn’t, the thought was unpleasant enough that she immediately shrugged out of the soiled robe, intending to rinse off the worst of the floury paste before it had a chance to harden or clog up Kara’s washing machine, but Alex didn’t move out of the way of the sink to let her.

She was staring at Lena with a look of incredulous delight.

‘Oh my god.’

‘What?’

‘Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod.’

Then Lena remembered her pink and white marshmallow pajamas, and winced.

‘Do not.’

‘I can’t help it. You look like one of those valentines candy hearts.’

‘They’re Kara’s. I didn’t exactly come round prepared to stay over and I had to borrow something to sleep in.’

Alex wasn’t listening, too caught up in her utter glee over what she was seeing.

‘Like a little puff of cotton candy! Can I please please take your photo like this??’

‘Absolutely NOT.’

‘Oh go on. I want to set it to pop up whenever you call me.’

‘That’s it, I’m getting dressed.’

‘It’s too late now, I’ve seen it. Next time you go all scary-Lena I’m just going to picture you in your jammies with pancake batter smeared on your cheeks.’

Lena fled the room before Alex could whip out her phone to take the threatened photo, but she could still hear the sound of her cackling even once the bathroom door was firmly closed behind her, as well as Kara’s more quietly amused admonishments to her sister.

She was never going to live this down.

#supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #supergirl #supercorp fanfic #my fic #kara x lena #supergirl fanfiction #multi chapter fic #Forgotten Not Forgiven #sorry I forgot to post this on here yesterday #I'm not sure if there's anyone reading just on tumblr rather than AO3 #but just in case #here you go

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paikothecateater · 2 months ago

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What does Denmark do when his baby brothers are ill? (Basically asking for anko family fluff) (⁠ ⁠･ั⁠﹏⁠･ั⁠)

Alrighty. Let's do this.

Denmark always wakes up at around 6-6:30 am. He doesn't particularly enjoy being up alone, but Iceland usually wakes up around 7:30am, so it should be fine. He and Iceland have made a habit of spending the first few hours of the morning together, eating breakfast, talking, laying down on the sofa together. It's become the highlight of Denmark's mornings.

Only, there's one problem. It's 8 am. Where on Earth is Iceland? Denmark tried to ignore the tardiness chalking it up to Iceland oversleeping, but Iceland just doesn't oversleep. If he's not up by now, something's wrong.

He gives in and walks into Norway and Iceland's room and much to his surprise, Iceland is actually awake, but not only him, Norway was up too.

Norway normally wakes up much later in the day.

Denmark walks over to Iceland's side and takes a seat on the bed, reaching over to stroke Iceland's hair.

"don't feel like getting up today, huh?"

Iceland opens his mouth to retort, and is subsequently interrupted by a huge coughing fit. It finally clicks for Denmark that Iceland is in fact sick. One glance at Norway confirms the same for him.

Awe crap.

Denmark accepts that any plans he'd had for the rest of the week went out the window at that moment.

He leans over and pulls Iceland into his arms, patting his back and shushing him. It was likely Iceland's coughing that woke Norway.

Speaking of which, the coughing fit finally dies down and Denmark is able to put Iceland down and get up to head to the bathroom and by extention the medicine cabinet. He grabs pain killers and fever reducing medication and heads to the kitchen where he grabs water and cold packs from the freezer.

He then heads back into the room where he heads to Norway's side first dropping off the medicine and water while also leaning to place his cheek against Norway's forehead.

"this is actually the worst way to check someone's temperature..."

"and yet you're still doing it? Get off."

Denmark ignores Norway's complaints rather focusing on his temperature. He can tell even through this awful method that Norway has a mild fever. He moves to Iceland's side and does the same, resting his cheek on Iceland's forehead. Iceland's protest is much weaker coming in the form of a pitiful whine. Denmark can tell that Iceland's fever is quite a bit more intense, but that's to be expected given his generally weak immunity.

Denmark turns to look at Norway.

"hungry?"

Norway's irritated expression softens slightly.

"starving."

Denmark reaches over and smoothes Norway's hair back.

He turns to Iceland as if asking the same question. Iceland mimes throwing up which makes Denmark chuckle sympathetically. He leans over to kiss Iceland's head.

He turns again to address Norway.

"I'll go make you something to eat." he turns to Iceland and adds " you don't have to eat, but I'll make you some too. You want tea?"

Iceland doesn't respond, instead focusing on taking the medicines with as little water as he possibly can. Norway reaches over and pulls Iceland into his arms, resting his chin on Iceland's head.

Denmark smiles at them before heading over to the kitchen. He begins prepping to make some of Norway's favourite foods. Mainly Danish pastries. Denmark did enjoy baking, so in a way, it was a win win.

Iceland could never eat whenever he was sick. Nothing would stay down, and it's not like he even had the appetite to want to eat. It really was no loss. He didn't exactly love a lot of foods. Hong Kong's family was determined to change that.

Denmark still wanted to make sure he'd eat at least a little bit.

He walks back into the bedroom with a tray to the sight of Norway and Iceland engaging in what can only be described as a weak cat fight. Denmark roles his eyes.

"hey! Why are we fighting?"

"he pushed me because he 'doesn't want my cooties on him'"

"hey, everything feels gross right now. I don't need you getting your slime all over me."

"Norway stop being so clingy, Iceland quit calling Norway slimy."

Iceland manages a sly expression.

"but Daaaad."

Denmark laughs.

"I'm sorry, son, but I can't have you calling your brother slimy, true as it may be."

"Hey!"

Iceland sighs and pinches Norway's cheek.

"come on, we're messing with you. You know we love you, slimy as you may come."

Norway shoots his little brother a mock angry look before turning to accept Denmark's peace offering of food.

Iceland rolls his eyes and mimes throwing up again. Denmark crosses over and hands him a mug of hot herbal tea. Iceland nods in appreciation and takes a sip.

Denmark then reaches into Iceland's bedside table to pull out a small device he then plugs into a nearby outlet. With the knowledge that there was no way Iceland would be needing the rest of the water he needed for the medicine, he pours a portion of it into the humidifier. It was a gift from South Korea, Iceland didn't use it often, though he probably ought to.

Norway remained preoccupied with eating. Denmark's home cooked meals always managed to comfort Norway whenever he felt down or ill.

Denmark climbs in between the two and puts his arm around them, not caring enough about contagion. Denmark's immunity is just a lot stronger.

Iceland having given up on even the tea, leans on Denmark's shoulder for warmth. Denmark instinctively wraps his arm around Iceland, bringing him closer. Iceland begins drifting off.

Norway on the other hand takes it upon himself to take the tray as well as the rest of Iceland's tea to the kitchen. He then comes back into the room, not to lay back down, but to grab some clothes to go take a shower. Denmark offers help, but is almost immediately turned down.

It's only two pm by this point, but the concept of time means nothing when these two are sick.

Norway finally finishes up and crashes to the bed with a comedic thud. He then proceeds to weakly try to push Denmark off with his feet.

There was no shot that Denmark would give in. It was once in a blue moon that Iceland was tired enough to cuddle up with him and he wasn't about to let that go to waste for Norway's little tantrum.

Norway eventually tires and settles down to also take a nap.

They sleep until about 8pm. Denmark was entertained by his phone for most of the time. One of the perks of having these two get sick is that it gives Denmark the excuse to lie in and do nothing.

Iceland wakes up groaning. Denmark puts the back of his wrist on Iceland's forehead.

"man... It's almost like you keep getting hotter."

He notices the ghost of a grin on Iceland's face.

Denmark playfully smacks Iceland's shoulder.

"not in that sense, you cheeky fuck."

He leaves to grab Iceland some more medicine. In the meantime, Norway stirs awake and manages to make his way over to Iceland's side and starts stroking his hair affectionately.

"still feeling like crap?"

"mhm... You?"

"yep... A bit better though... Where is he?"

"grabbing more medicine... Says my fever got worse."

Norway makes a soft 'oh' noise before leaning over to kiss Iceland's forehead.

"anything I can do to make you feel better?"

Iceland shrugs.

Denmark walks back into the room with another half glass of water and a few pills. Pushing the pills into Iceland's hand and handing him the water glass.

He also presents playing cards.

"we've literally done nothing all day, I'm bored. Come on."

Norway agrees primarily for the reason that he's always been pretty good at card games. Iceland's just desperate for anything to help him forget the absolute burning in his throat.

They play a few rounds of rummy. An easier game as Iceland had never been a fan of card games.

Norway wins every game shy of two that Denmark actually managed to win. Iceland didn't exactly care to win. He was just trying to not mess up any sets in his delirium.

Denmark then heads downstairs into the living room to set up the pullout sofa. The sofa was usually taken up by Sealand and Ladonia whenever Sweden brought them over because there was just not enough space. Denmark, however, found another use for it. Whenever the whale brothers get sick, he'll always try to get them to come sleep on the pullout sofa, so he can strip their bed and put it together for when they eventually get better. It also helps get them out of the stuffy room and get them some fresh air.

He gets Norway to head downstairs and carries Iceland, not trusting him to navigate his own way down a whole flight of stairs.

"you're already dying to death, you don't need a concussion too."

He gets them both situated and gets to work he sets up their bed and heads back downstairs to check on them. He felt he had to make sure Iceland would eat, so he brought him some Skyr, Iceland's comfort food. He manages a few spoonfuls of it before giving up and passing it to Norway who also doesn't seem super eager to eat.

Denmark sighs and turns to head upstairs to his own room, but both of them pull on his arms and beg him to stay. He reluctantly agrees and lays down in between them, his arms wrapped firmly around the two of them.

As no one was feeling particularly sleepy, they just opted to put on some kind of children's movie. Unfortunately, Denmark's request for the lego movie was unmet.

They fell asleep with the TV still quietly running in the background.

The next morning would become one of the rare mornings Denmark would sleep in. Poor Finland would come in to the sight of the three of them still fast asleep at 10:30am.

#aph nordics #aph headcanons #anko family #whale brothers #aph iceland #hws iceland #aph norway #hws norway #aph denmark #hws denmark

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sickiesope · 21 days ago

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ummm can you do one where hoseok has been having like recurring migraines or something and the members are all worried about him?

Here it is anon, I'm so sorry for the wait! My brain's been stuck for awhile but I hope ur still around and it's to your liking! 💜💜

Headsick

Sickie: Hoseok

Caretakers: OT7

Summary: Everything seems to be giving Hobi a headache lately.

The guys are having a fun weekend off and that includes a night of home karaoke along with some drinks. Hoseok was singing and dancing for a good while before his head felt a little dizzy and heavy. He thought it was just the drinks hitting but this was a more painful kind of dizzy. He decided that's enough alcohol for him tonight.

Jungkook and Jimin are racing to chug their drinks with the others chanting "Go! Go! Go!" Hoseok's head hurts just from watching it. Hoseok tries to drink water to balance out. The glass is cold and has a lot of ice in it. He almost wants to hold it up to his forehead but that would be weird. Instead he sinks his face into his cold hands on the table. He flinches when JK and Jimin hastily put down their empty glasses.

"Yah! Careful guys, you're scaring Hobi" Namjoon jokes.

Hoseok forcibly laughs, his voice sounding like a weird smothering echo in his head.

Hoseok wants to enjoy himself, he really does. But this pesky headache is watering it down. He just stares into space with the blurry clamor of Taehyung and Jimin trying to pick a song.

"Hoba you okay?" Yoongi asks him, gently touching his knee.

"Huh? Oh, yeah hyung..I guess I'm just tired" Hoseok sighs. The dancer ended up going to bed earlier that night.

***

Hoseok slept for eleven hours but still woke feeling out of it. He only had two drinks and barely finished the second.

"Hobi hyung, wanna go for a walk?" Jungkook puts on a hoodie.

Hoseok looks outside and his face expression looks less than thrilled at the idea. "Hmm.. I don't think I can.." the dancer mumbles.

"Oh? Are you feeling okay hyung?" JK looks at Hoseok's face. He looks so tired despite sleeping the most.

"Yeah, just a slight headache is all."

"Don't worry hyung, you should rest up. We're gonna be busy again soon."

***

Hoseok's been like this on and off a few days now. He was slow getting ready and really wanted to sleep in. It's warmer out than expected and that seems to be bothering him too. Traffic is heavy and they're moving at a snail's pace. Hoseok is getting that dull pain in his head again. Near his eyebrows he feels it most. Hoseok gently massages the area with his thumbs. When that doesn't feel like enough he uses his knuckles. He doesn't care how funny it might look.

Hoseok keeps sighing and grunting in the back seat and Seokjin glances at him a few times. The eldest wants to ask what's wrong but doesn't want to pry. He assumed it was because Hobi didn't finish his coffee.

"Come on, we're running behind schedule!" their manager calls. The members are speed walking down the hallway after rushing from the car. It all feels like a blur to Hoseok despite his body feeling so heavy.

The rap line have a busy day of recording today and they wanted to stream some of it. Hoseok loves showing the creativity process with the fans and he's usually shining and lighting up the room with his smile. But the lighting in the room itself feels too much.

There it is again.

Everything seems to be giving Hobi a headache lately. It's now a pulsing that radiates throughout and he feels warm.

"Hm, hold on, its lagging" Yoongi said about the phone. Hoseok feels like his brain is lagging. He can't really pay attention with this pain. It feels like he has weights tied at his arms and his head feels like a loud alarm bell with intense ringing in his ears. It hurts. The last thing he needs is to mess up on camera. Nope, not if Hobi can help it. He stands there smiling and nodding as if the light isn't making him feel like a vampire in the sun.

Hoseok wipes his forehead and looks down at the floor. "Hey Hobi, army is up there!" Yoongi points to the camera "they can't see your beautiful face!"

Hoseok lifts his head smiling tightly. He waves and dances for about 10 seconds before the pain behind his eyes gets too much. He quickly turns around and buries his face into Namhoon's broad frame. "Awwh, our Hobi is extra adorable today!"

Hoseok just stays like that for a minute before peeling away. "Oh uh, sorry Joon" he says sheepishly.

Namjoon looks at Hobi's face. He leans in and whispers "are you alright?"

"Yeah..I'm fine" Hoseok murmurs "slight headache but it's okay." The dancer casually walks away holding one side of his head. He's going just fast enough to escape but not look rushed. But the others still catch on and get concerned for their sunshine. They decide to turn the cam off.

"Hyung, what's wrong?" Namjoon asks.

Hoseok finally caves. "Ugh, I think I have a migraine.. I can't do this.." he says feebly. His head feels like it's shattering inside. "I need to sit down somewhere."

Yoongi takes him to a nearby chair and gives him a fresh water bottle. Namjoon lends him a pair of his sunglasses. It helps a little with the light but the throbbing persists.

"Did you take anything for it hyung?"

"Yeah, but maybe I should've tried something else. I think I feel worse" Hobi groaned. He sinks in the chair and just holds his head. "Ugh, this wasn't part of the plan"

"It's okay hyung, we'll try again when you feel better" Namjoon rubs his back.

"Awwh, the fans are all wishing you well Hoba" Yoongi shows him. Hoseok is warmed by the love and he feels more relaxed.

#bts sickfic #sick!hoseok #caretaker!namjoon #caretaker!yoongi #request

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chapinii · 1 year ago

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So q!bagi and q!roier had a very short chat today- and it's something that has come up before- about how it's weird that q!cellbit and q!bagi have similar hair, but the colours are inverted to eachother. As we all well know, Bagi's is mostly white and Cellbit's has the singular white streak.

Now. This is something that I have been thinking about for a While, ever since I saw their cubitos in regards to them being siblings, and not even just specifically siblings - but twins.

It's been widely accepted in the qsmp canon that the stress of being kidnapped and frozen by the federation led to a lock of q!cellbit's hair turning white, which made sense on its own... Until along came q!Bagi, with her hair almost entirely white except for a singular brown streak, the same colour as cellbit's natural hair. Now, we know that q!Bagi spent 15 years searching for her brother, and in that time we dont know much besides the fact that she became a police officer in order to track him down once she'd left the island. Though she mentions a lot of toil and mental stress in those 15 years, it pales in comparison to Cellbit's past, wracked with war, murder, even cannibalism. And yet, Cellbit's hair was completely brown when arriving at the island.

Hence, theory 1:

As twins, q!cellbit and q!bagi's hair mirror eachother's based on their levels of physical trauma/pain. To every scar on q!cellbit's body, physical, perhaps even mental, there is a lock of q!bagi's hair turned white. I was playing around with a previous headcanon that perhaps q!bagi was able to somewhat feel q!cellbits's pain throughout her years of searching for him, whether that be through intense emotion or genuine feelings of uncomfort on her body reflecting q!cellbit being stabbed, fought with, etc. But what if that pain wasn't so literal? What if, soon after the disappearance of her brother, the young q!bagi very quickly found her hair turning white, with no explanation other than the innate feeling of knowing her twin was still alive? And, as the years went by, q!Bagi found a twisted comfort in waking up to find another piece of her hair having lost colour, as it was a sign that her brother- still with the colour in his hair- continued to live. Though there are gaps in the time period after q!cellbit escaped from the prison, it makes sense to come to the conclusion that if this theory stands, the majority of q!bagi's hair would have turned white as a result of the war and the prison, slowing after, but ending up with simply one strand of brown hair by the time she showed up on the island.

Unless the two of them aren't mirrored at all! Thus this leads me to...

Theory 2 (a mess):

Their hair is based on the things they've each been through via the Federation and its methods with cryogenics, which leads to a more concerning query: just exactly what Q!Bagi herself had been through before arriving on the island, and whether she really 'arrived' at all. Q!Bagi maintains that Q!Cellbit was taken from the island, and she herself left to find him. Q!Cellbit having been away from the island is clear, with the boat crash initially, and all the clues of his past, i.e. the missing posters and subsequent investigation. But Q!Bagi is a different story. Her arrival on the island commenced with her waking up without memories, a string of cryptic messages and the spin of a wheel leading her to discovering a ticket (#0001) in an unknown snowy place alongside a book containing the words "They should be here anytime soon". before waking up in a room full of ice, far away from the main spawn of today's island residents. There was nothing to indicate when exactly the book and ticket were discovered, but we do know at least that the ticket itself is physical, with it being in her hand when she woke up. It's entirely possible that the events leading to her arrival on the island could have been some sort of dream sequence fabricated by the federation, as it's entirely possible that at some point during those 15 years, Q!Bagi was recaptured by the federation and frozen, leading to her hair turning white due to being under the effects for such a long time. It's also important to mention that this trait seems specific just to Q!Bagi and Q!Cellbit, as other formerly frozen members of the island (for one example, Felps) came out of their predicament visually unscathed, their hair unaffected. It fascinates me how only the two of them share this trait, and it leads me to lean more into the twin stuff (telepathy aside) as a potential reason. I would say this one is much more easily discredited based on the fact that Q!Bagi remembers finding the prison which housed Q!Cellbit, but it's entirely possible that the Federation were simply able to plant false memories in her head during this prolonged state of being frozen, and whoever is leaving the two of them clues may also be partially complicit in this. All in all, 2 things are clear: They spent their childhoods on the island. When the twins were 12/13, something happened which separated them, and everything after, at least on Q!Bagi's side, is a mystery.

Theory 3 but also not really:

Of course, another explanation for Bagi's white hair could just be the federation straight up torturing her, but then if the first theory holds any merit and they are connected throigh their hair (or at least share the same genetic trait of stress = white) then Q!Cellbit should also have a similar amount of hair covered.

ANYWAY! There's my insanity, if you managed to read this far, I hope you enjoyed every single theory I had unravelling as I wrote them out (the frozen theory came about as I wrote this and I literally had to start reading the wiki to see if any of it could stick- it doesn't) but I am so obsessed with these twins and their weird fucking hair which has been mentioned far too many times for me to ignore and i need to analyse the shit out of the clip of Roier and Bagi, I will live and die by my hair theories.

#qsmp #q!cellbit #q!bagi #this only makes sense in my head #it's 6am #this is all im thinking about #I'm so sorry to anyone who willingly reads this #you thought i was kidding.

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ktkpopping · 2 years ago

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I’ll Take Care of You

summary: Dealing with chronic illness is never easy. Waking up one morning having a killer flare causes you to cut the workday short, which leads to your attentive and loving partner, Park Seonghwa, taking care of you.

Hiiiiiiiii

So this is the first fic I've ever written and it is purely self-indulgent and born out of one of my own bouts of chronic illness. I don't see a lot of fics dealing with this particular topic so I wrote this in an attempt to shed light on chronic illness and make other readers feel seen. It's super fluffy and only slightly angsty with Seonghwa being the softest boy on earth.

This fic can be read as gender-neutral! While writing it I imagined F/M, but it ended up not having any real identifying characteristics of the reader so it's up to your imagination to decide!

AO3

warnings: mentions of chronic illness and flares, mentions of food

genres: fluff, slight angst, romance, gn reader x seonghwa

word count: 3454

You knew today was going to be one of those days. You could feel it in your bones the instant you woke up but decided to push forward with the day regardless.

Though now, you were definitely regretting getting out of bed this morning.

Sitting at your desk and fighting the urge to fold in on yourself, you could feel your joints throbbing and a dull burning radiating around your knees.

A normal occurrence, however unwelcome for someone who lived with chronic illness.

After another 30 minutes at your desk desperately trying to be productive, you decided to call it quits for the day. You would be no use to anyone while in this much pain, so why bother staying?

You texted your partner Seonghwa to let him know you were going home for the day.

You Hi my love, I’m having a really bad flare today and have decided to head home

I’ll probably be asleep when you get home from work

He responds moments later.

My star ⭐️ Oh my darling

I’m so sorry to hear that

I’ll make you some dinner and help you out when I get home later

Please try and get some rest 💕

You and Seonghwa met in college at a party during your freshmen year. You knew he was the one the second you laid eyes on him. Coiffed, black hair with a striking undercut and deep, round eyes had you melting in an instant. You had never seen someone look so soft yet so commanding at the same time.

You were already head over heels at first glance, but the second he spoke to you and you heard that honeyed deep voice, you knew you were a goner.

You’ve been together for a little over eight years, and following college, you both moved into a nice apartment together in the city. You worked in higher education, while Seonghwa worked in the nonprofit sector.

Dragging yourself out of the building with your remaining energy, you drive home and try to keep your breathing even and thoughts focused on delivering your tired body back home.

Upon arriving, you immediately went to your room, stripping clothes off along the way to release yourself from the confines of professional attire, leaving a trail of black on the way to your bed. At this point, you couldn’t be bothered to care about the mess in your wake.

Immediately crawling between the sheets and under your weighted blanket, you willed yourself to fall asleep, desperately hoping the pain would subside for a while so that you could rest.

When you woke a few hours later to the sound of the garage door closing, you groggily wiped your eyes.

Your joints still radiated pain, albeit less intense than before.

You heard the sound of dress shoes clicking on the tile as they came closer to your shared bedroom.

Standing in the doorway was Seonghwa, dressed in his standard work attire of a crisp button down, slim tie, and fitted slacks.

“Oh my love, are you alright? How are you feeling?” He asked as he slipped his shoes off and made his way into the bedroom, seating himself on the edge of your bed to cup your face gently.

“I’ve been better. This isn’t the worst flare I’ve had, but I couldn’t focus at work and my energy drained rapidly. I knew I wouldn’t be of use to anyone if I tried to tough it out through the day, so I came home.”

“Darling, you shouldn’t push yourself so hard when you know you’re not feeling well. Your bosses understand. I hate seeing you push yourself to your breaking point when it’s not necessary.”

He looked at you with concern and fondness and you knew his words were true, it’s just hard for you to get out of the headspace of feeling like a burden and needing to be “on” at all times to keep up the masquerade of being a “normal” person.

Chronic illness was a part of you, you knew that. But it didn’t make it any less difficult to deal with, nor did it quell your anxiety around others and how you would be perceived or treated if they knew.

You sighed. “Yeah, I know. It’s just hard for me to overcome the monsters in my head sometimes. I know you’re right, I’m just…struggling.” You admit as your shoulders slump.

His gaze softened as he caressed your cheek softly.

“Love, it’s okay not to be 100%, I promise you. How about you let me run you an epsom salt bath? Let me take care of you tonight and ease some of your stress. I know I can’t take the pain away, but I can try to help you manage it.”

You nod and he kisses your lips gently before making his way to the en suite bathroom.

You hear the tap start and you heave a sigh while trying to stretch yourself out without causing too much additional discomfort.

A few moments later, he returns to your side.

“Come on my love, let me take care of you.”

He pulls the covers down and loops his arms around your back and under your knees, carrying you bridal style to the bathroom.

Depositing you gently on the floor, he helps you remove your remaining clothes. He then holds his hand out for you to grab as you step into the warm water and sink into its comforting embrace.

Once you’re fully reclined in the clawfoot tub, he strips off his button-down and tie, leaving him in his white undershirt and slacks, settling in behind you with shampoo, conditioner and a bowl at his side.

He starts by filling the bowl and gently running the warm water over your hair, a heavy sigh escaping you as he does. He then pours some of your favorite shampoo in his palms and begins a soothing lather over your scalp, his deft fingers causing a shudder to wrack through you at the sensation. He has long fingers, and he knows how to use them to his advantage.

He continues to massage the product through your roots, allowing for you to relax further into the water as he works.

Filling the bowl again, he rinses your hair out thoroughly, all while whispering sweet praises into your ear, lulling you into a more relaxed state despite the way your joints continue to throb.

Once rinsed, he adds a generous portion of conditioner to his hands to work through your ends gently, pinning your hair up to allow the product to work.

“Darling, close your eyes and continue to relax while I get the shower started for us. I’ll come back in a few minutes to help you out of the tub” he says gently at your side.

You nod slightly and keep your eyes closed, focused on the sensation of the warm epsom salt bath with the scent of comforting eucalyptus oil wafting up from the water.

Lost in your thoughts, you don’t realize that Seonghwa has returned and is now fully undressed until he nudges you gently to help you stand up.

He unplugs the drain and holds your hand as you step out of the tub and onto the bath mat. Once out, he guides you over to the shower, following you inside.

He leads you both under the spray so he can help you rinse the conditioner out of your hair, settling himself behind you and situating his hands on your waist once you’re finished.

He wraps his arms around your midsection and holds you close, but gently as he peppers soft kisses to your temple and crown.

You sink into the sensation of the warm cascading water with the love of your life behind you and try to stay grounded in the moment despite all the pain.

“I know you’re not feeling well baby, once we get you all clean, I’ll help get you set up with your meds and some arthritis cream and a heating pad. Once you’re settled, I’ll make you some dinner. Does that sound okay?” He asks with his lips pressed to your temple.

His deep, soothing voice causes you to melt, and if you weren’t already, his ministrations and soothing words would cause you to fall head over heels in love with him.

You nod your assent and feel him shift to grab the body wash off the shelf. He begins to lather your skin with soft, soothing motions to prevent aggravating your already tender body.

There’s nothing sexual about his movements. You can feel the love and care he puts into helping you shower and feel more comfortable. His large hands shifting his way down your middle, over your thighs and down your legs causing you to shiver slightly but bask in the comfort.

“Spread your legs darling, let me help you” you hear him whisper behind you. He trails back up the inside of your thighs and helps to clean your most sensitive areas with the gentlest touch as to not cause you any additional discomfort.

Not that he’s got any ulterior motive, but you couldn’t be turned on right now if you tried, your pain receptors alight and burning and trying to focus on standing up straight instead of curling into yourself like you want to.

He senses your struggle to stay upright and balances you back on his front once he finishes soaping your body up.

Detaching the shower head, he runs the warm water over you, concentrating some of the warmth on the joints he knows hurt the worst.

Once rinsed off, he turns off the tap and leads you out of the shower, wrapping a large, warm towel around you as he helps you dry yourself off.

Shifting slightly as you allow him space to do the same for himself, you lean over on the counter as your body continues to work against you.

Once dried, he grabs both of you fresh underwear and settles you onto the bed.

“Stay here and rest, I’ll get everything you need and I’ll be back shortly” he says as he places a chaste kiss to your forehead.

You close your eyes and will the plush mattress to swallow you whole if it’ll take away the pain. You know flares are temporary, but the way your body feels like it’s on FIRE never fails to make you want to tear your hair out in frustration.

The pain has become so much despite the care that Seonghwa bestowed on you, and hot tears finally slip from your closed eyes as you finally break from the stress of the day.

You don’t know how long you cry for, only really coming back into your body when you feel the bed dip and gentle thumbs wiping away at your under eyes.

You open your eyes to see his pained but loving expression as he caresses your face.

“I know, I know darling. It’ll get better soon. Here, sit up and take your pain relievers and drink a full glass of water” he says in a low, soft voice.

He helps prop you up against the pillows so you can swallow down the pills and drink, the cold water soothing down your raw throat.

Sniffling, you turn to Seonghwa and hand him the glass whilst grabbing his free hand to rub circles into the back of it.

“Thank you…thank you for taking care of me. I know it’s not easy and my flares are unpredictable, but I can never thank you enough for the care you give me when I’m struggling. I always…” you sigh heavily as a fresh wave of tears make their way down your cheeks. “I always feel like such a burden. I know you’re going to tell me that I’m not, and I know that I’m not…but sometimes it’s really, really hard to bring myself out of that dark place within my own mind. I just feel so…useless and helpless when this happens and it drives me insane that I can’t function at all” you say as the tears continue to fall.

He continues to cradle your face in his palms as he speaks in his low timbre. “My love, you could never, EVER be a burden. I know I’ll never fully understand or experience what you do, but I know that I will do anything I can within my power to lessen the pain and comfort you, even if it’s just holding your hand through it all. I love you, and I will continue to help you navigate whatever life throws at you.” He grips your face a little tighter and stares directly into your eyes, watery gaze firm and insistent. “You are not and nor will you ever be a burden. Even if you don’t believe it, I will continue to reassure you. I love you, and I am here for you.”

Your tears continue as you hold his gaze, but you lean into his touch and close your eyes. Inhaling a shaky but steadying breath, you open your eyes back up to his. “Thank you, I love you more than I ever thought possible.”

“And I love you, darling. Now lay back down and tell me which joints are bothering you most,” he says as he eases you flat down on the bed.

“My knees feel like they’re on fire and my lower back and shoulders really, really hurt,” you reply with a grimace.

He grabs the medicated arthritis cream off the night stand and starts to work it into your knees. The smell of menthol wafts up between you as his nimble fingers massage your aching joints and you feel yourself relaxing a bit the longer he works your joints.

“Flip over darling, I’ll get your shoulders next” he says, nudging your side to catch your attention. You roll over and he repeats the process on your shoulders, working out some of the tension as he does.

You let out a small dulcet sigh as you feel some of the day’s tension draining, silently willing the medication to take effect faster the more he works.

He steps back after placing a gentle kiss to your crown. “I’m going to go wash my hands and let that sink in before we flip you over for the heating pad on your lower back, and then I’ll go and get us some dinner.”

You grunt in affirmation, earning a slight chuckle from the man as he makes his way into the en suite. As you lay there, you find yourself continuing the thoughts of how grateful you are to have Seonghwa as your partner. You’ll never know how you got so lucky, but you’re consistently amazed by his grace and patience and overwhelming support of you and your conditions. You know you would do exactly the same if the situation was reversed.

“Alright, let’s get you rolled over on the heating pad and once you’re settled, I’ll bring us dinner in bed and we can watch whatever you’d like on tv,” he says upon emerging from the bathroom.

You begin to roll over and he sets the heating pad directly under the small of your back as you settle back into the covers. Again, he places a gentle kiss to your forehead as you get comfortable, and then makes his way out of the room toward to kitchen for dinner.

Left alone, you feel your eyes growing heavier as the medication and cream begins to take effect and you concentrate on the pad slowly heating on your lower back. Soon, you find yourself drifting off until you’re roused from your almost-slumber by Seonghwa returning with a tray of food for you both.

He settles it between you and helps you to sit up before moving to the opposite side of the bed and taking his place at your side. He’s prepared you both a hearty stew and bread, with steaming cups of tea for the ultimate comfort meal.

You find your eyes watering again as you turn to him and notice a very soft smile and fond expression color his features as he gazes back at you. You lift your hand to cup the side of his face and whisper “thank you” to prevent the tears from fully falling down.

He leans in and kisses you softly while wiping under your eyes as a lone tear tracks its way down your cheek.

“Any time, my love. Now, please eat something and then we can get you settled into bed for the night.”

You both eat in comfortable silence as some show plays on the tv in front of you. You can’t find it in yourself to fully pay attention to what’s happening, but you find additional comfort in the background noise and the knowledge that Seonghwa is right beside you.

Once you’re both finished, he gets up to grab the tray and bring it back to the kitchen. You know he’ll be a while as he does the dishes and wipes down the kitchen, as it would irk him to leave the kitchen in any kind of messy state regardless of the situation.

You giggle to yourself at his fastidiousness and sink back into the pillows to relax. The medications have finally started to take effect, and you’re feeling some of the ache drain out of you, as the fatigue and exhaustion take over.

After a bit, he returns to dim the lights and settle back at your side. He comes closer, leaning on his left arm as his right drapes lightly across your abdomen.

“How are you feeling now? Is the medication kicking in? Do you need anything else?” He coos gently to you with mild concern etched between his brows.

You reach up to smooth the skin there, soft gaze meeting his. “I’m doing better. I can’t think of anything I need at the moment, I’m just…really exhausted and think it’s about time for bed.”

Now that everything’s cleaned up and you’re both settled in, he shifts closer to turn off the heating pad and move it to the floor so that you can get comfortable for the night. He lays on his back, and you shift slightly as to lay your head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat as his arms wrap gently, but securely against you, rubbing small patterns up and down your spine to further relax you.

He kisses your head and you both lay there, basking in each others comfort until you feel yourself losing the battle against sleep. You kiss his chest and lean up to press your lips to his, where he reciprocates easily, before rolling over onto your back to get comfortable and prevent any further fatigue or joint pain in the morning as a result of sleeping in an awkward position.

Once settled, he turns off the tv and pulls the covers over both of you securely, encasing you in soft warmth. “Goodnight my love, I hope tomorrow is easier and that your pain is lessened,” he whispers into the darkness.

“Thank you again Hwa, I love you very much” you mumble back, before sleep finally overtakes you for the night.

Upon waking in the morning to the sound of your combined alarms, you realize that your joints feel far less tense and you breathe a heavy sigh of relief.

You look over to seonghwa as he groggily rubs his eyes and looks to you before rasping in his morning voice, “How are you feeling this morning, darling?”

You smile, feeling slightly affected and endeared by his husky tone. “Much better; thank you again for taking care of me yesterday, I can’t ever thank you enough for doing that.”

He hums affectionately before pulling you close and wrapping his arms back around you, peppering soft kisses into your hairline.

You both lay there a while and bask in each other’s warmth until the alarm goes off again and you both need to get up and get ready for the day.

You both make your way into the en suite where he turns on the shower while you use the bathroom. Once finished, you step out and admire his silhouette through the fogged glass and a soft smile paints your features as you again think about how lucky you are to have this beautiful and compassionate man as your partner.

You join him in the shower to let the hot water run across your shoulders again, wrapped and content in your lover’s arms as the soothing spray cascades over you both and you know that despite the unpredictable daily trials of chronic illness, that everything is going to be okay.

#ateez fluff #ateez fanfic #seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x oc #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa fanfic #ateez

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factorydefaultlu · 8 months ago

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Tchaikovsky saved me at like 10:30pm. I was in so much pain I was crying but I was able to fall asleep thanks to my calm playlist. I woke up like 30 mins ago, there's a dull ache in my incisions and my back is kinda sore.

I really hope that's the only time I feel that kind of pain. It was so bad. So far I've only had like 3 instances of that intense kind of pain since surgery.

Later today I'll call my doc and tell her about the pain and ask what I can do to relieve it because ibuprofen and acetaminophen aren't cutting it when my pain is at a 10. I think the oxy saved me earlier but it was my last one.

My only fear is addiction. Like I know it's gonna take a lot more than a couple of 5mg tablets of oxy to start an addiction but it just freaks me out because of my history with drug abuse. Prescription pills weren't really my thing, but I still took them in conjunction to my main vices.

Idk I'm just paranoid. I'm scared to death of becoming addicted to substances again

#tin talks

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pbandjesse · 25 days ago

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I had to move my OB appointment from next week to tomorrow because I had scary high blood pressure at the rhumatologist today. So I have been feeling pretty stressed out this evening and it's very hard for me to tell if I feel sick because of stress or if something is wrong.

I had an alright day though. I would have bursts of energy and things would be okay for a lot of the morning. I slept a little better last night I guess. Though I did wake up after I had a pretty intense nightmare. And then I pulled a muscle in my side that was incredibly painful. It wasn't the worst sleep but it was not the best I've had.

When I woke up I texted James to see if they had left for the oil change appointment yet. They hadn't, so they came up to give me a hug before they headed out.

I feel really bad about this because the appointment was at 930 but they wouldn't get home until 2! It's insane that this happens every time. And we discovered today that we had to pay for the oil change?? The only reason we keep going to the dealership is because it had been free with our warranty. I guess we will find a new place going forward.

While James was gone I was trying my best to be productive. I would finish my floor mat project. Which may fit in the baby basket? Unsure about it in there be ause it's all folded on the sides but that doesn't mean there isn't a way for it to work. And I would had an apple and peanut butter for breakfast. I would lay out my larger puff quilt and start to add the stuffing. But I would only get a dozen stuffed before I started feeling to tired and had to come back upstairs.

I took a short break before putting together a mini hospital bag. Just in case stuff. Lotion, deodorant, Vaseline, chapstick. Underwear. Leggings. Socks. Sweatshirt. Charger. Nothing crazy but just things that I think would help me feel comfortable if I had to go to the hospital sooner then planned. Especially with how bad I've been feeling.

I would lay down for an hour. Just watching nonsense. I realized that my phone has been staying on my data and not switching to WiFi so I used so much that they had put me in a slow down until the end of the month. Super obnoxious that this happened. I would manually turn it off and was just a bit annoyed with myself for not being more careful.

I really wanted string cheese and was excited when James let me know that we had a brand new package in the fridge. I had two of those and some leftover stuffing for lunch. And that would give me another bit of energy to finish stuffing all of the squares of the puff quilt. I still need 4 more squares of the white yarn but 9 of the 10 rows are ready to be sewn together. I want to be able to work on that during our long drive this weekend so I would safety pin all of those squares together. I did three sets of three rows for manageability. I was very happy with this.

I came upstairs and decided to mix two of my new Burt's bees chapsticks together. I have a vanilla and a peppermint and now I have two vanilla peppermints and it's perfect. I used to do this all the time and it's just such a nice mild mix. I don't know why they don't just make it.

I cleaned that up and was hanging out waiting for James to come home. They got back here right after 2 and we basically just got back in the car and we were off for my appointment.

James would grocery shop while I was in the doctor's. The ride there kind of sucked. Bad traffic and bad drivers. But we got there and things were fine.

I am hoping I was just a bit stressed. Between the drive and the sort of uncomfortable conversation I had to have with the medical assistant (she was the one I had last time that made me bleed really bad), my blood pressure was very high. Worryingly high. She said I should call my OB. So while she went to mix my meds I would shoot them a message. About the blood pressure, the vomiting, the broken capillaries, the headaches. And within an hour they were calling me to move my appointment up. I missed the call but the voicemail seemed very concerned. The office was closed and I couldn't figure out how to get through the prompts so I sent a second message and was able to navigate moving my appointment and now it's tomorrow at 2.

And honestly since then I have been feeling really stressed and vaguely nauseous. The car ride home was not good for me. I felt sick and I think it was more I was upset. When we got back here I just wanted to lay down. I laid on James for a while, which isn't something I often do but I just really needed them. They kissed the top of my head a bunch and tried very hard to make me feel comfortable ans comforted. And it helped. Even if my belly hurts still and I had pains in my legs.

I would lay upside down with my legs on the wall and that helped. James made dinner. They didn't make my quesadilla how I wanted and I never ask them to remake stuff but I had to this time and they didn't make me feel bad but I did feel bad. I really enjoyed my second try quesadilla and I lovey husband for taking care of me.

After dinner I went in the studio to cut the yarn for September's rectangle for the temperature blanket. I had some cereal. I accidently lost the end of my yarn and James tried to help me untangle it and eventually I was able to sort it out. Glad to have that ready to go.

I hung out with James in the living room for a while. My sinuses started bugging me and I was having to turn from side to side to breathe properly. Icky.

I took a shower and it helped but it wasn't a very nice shower. The water took forever to get warm and I was just grinding my teeth to get through it. I am cozy in bed now though.

While I was in the shower I had a revelation about where I may have thought up our baby's name. It's a character from one of my favorite fictional podcasts. I don't know why it just popped into my head but it made me laugh out loud. It doesn't make me want to not use the name but man it surprises me when one of the lines from the show ran through my head with the name in it. I had to call James upstairs to tell them. They thought it was pretty funny too.

I am not feeling as bad anymore. Like I am still not comfortable. But I'm not hurting in a scary way anymore. I am just ready to sleep.

Tomorrow I'm going to camp to set up my NAFT program for Wednesday but then I'll probably just go straight to my appointment. We'll see how the day works out. I don't want to push myself to hard with how I've been feeling. It's just so I'm hard to make those calls.

I hope you are all having a good night. I hope you sleep well. Goodnight everyone. Until tomorrow.

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rogueshadeaux · 10 months ago

Text

Chapter Twenty-Nine — Paper Trail

“We don’t know enough yet to make any assumptions.” Dr. Sims said cooly from the kitchen, like he himself was trying to hold back from demanding answers from the universe. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and find something in the files today. If not, hopefully the tests will tell us something we missed.”

6k words | 30 min read time | TRIGGER WARNINGS: Illness, medical procedures [mentioned], racism, abuse, lore. so much lore.

⚠ AUTHOR'S NOTE: There are a lot of imbedded links on this chapter! Some are very low quality, as I had to work with what I could screenshot off of Youtube. If only SPP compiled their stuff in one place like a normal game company. Anyways enjoy!

I woke up to Dad sitting on the floor next to the couch, calling my name gently. “Jeanie, wake up,” he hummed. “C’mon, I made coffee.”

“Do I have to?” I grumbled, face still in the cushions.

Dad and I had stayed up for nearly two hours after I had walked back into the house and talked about everything; the guilt, the anger, the truth. He wasn’t as mad at me as I thought he was—while he was upset, he didn’t blame me for it. Any of it. “Jean, you don’t know what to do o-or what’s going on,” he reassured me, “I can’t get upset at you for that. I just want you to be careful.” He wanted nothing more than for me to trust his judgment. And maybe I needed to; Dad knew what he was doing. I’d be safe if I listened to him, right? I had to trust him.

But it was hard, when we both kept hiding things from each other.

So I extended the olive branch first, and told him the truth; the pain in my back when I use my powers but how it eases when I’m in water. He listened intently to it all, simply nodding along. “I’ll tell Eugene in the morning,” he eventually decided, “We’ll figure it out, I promise,”

Maybe it was wrong for me to not say anything about Mom as I was huddled into his chest, but I wasn’t sure I could get through that conversation without becoming a blubbering mess. And besides, maybe that was simply meant for me. No one else.

The heart-to-heart led to us falling asleep on the couch, my head in Dad’s lap as he reclined back. Apparently I exhausted myself in my sobbing so much that I didn’t know Dad slipped away in the morning. Not until he woke me up at least. “Eugene needs to give you a look over and we…we need to talk to you about something too.”

That got me to turn to look at Dad through my curtain of hair. He was crouched holding two cups, Dr. Sims standing behind him with his arms crossed.

This was gonna be fun.

Dr. Sims assured me he knew enough basic medical care to know if I was okay. “Or at least, if something is wrong,” he added, looking me over. “Double majored while in college, I just never took the MCAT.”

I had no idea what that was, but nodded like I did as he checked my pulse, timing it against his watch.

He looked over my scars, checked their stitches. The hole in my neck was barely touched but he at least seemed satisfied by how it looked under its clear wrapping, which I was beginning to think was just saran wrap taped down. “Your dad said it hurts when you use your powers?” he asked me, examining the scar on my side. It was settling into a nice purple, bright against my skin.

“It’s — it’s not really a hurt,” I started, trying to downplay it. Dad was looking at me too intensely for me to be comfortable with just admitting the fact. “It’s almost like I feel sore when I do, in between my shoulderblades.”

Dr. Sims nodded, hand coming around to my back. “Right here?” He asked, pressing between my shoulder blades. My hand tensed around the coffee mug as I nodded, trying not to wince as he palpated the area.

“Yeah,” I eventually said.

Dr. Sims hummed, moving his hand away from my back. “And does it hurt while you use your power, or after?”

I shrugged. “Both? But it only hurts while I’m using it if I do it for a long time. Otherwise it’s usually this, like, twinge after.”

He nodded, moving to the table to type out some notes on his open mini-laptop. Dad sat back down on the couch beside me, one hand staying wrapped around the coffee mug while the other came to wrap around me.

I didn’t like that. He would give out affection often, sure, but holding? That usually came before bad news.

Dr. Sims picked up his laptop and brought it close, sitting on my other side. “Jean, we got your test results back.” He began.

My heart stopped. “Already?” I asked meekly. Dad’s arm pulled me a bit closer to his side as I slightly turned to face Dr. Sims better.

Dr. Sims nodded. “I pulled some strings.”

I waited a moment for him to continue. “So then…what did the results say?” I asked. I hated that he wouldn’t start explaining without my prompting.

Dr. Sims looked at the computer. “Well, the good news is that there’s nothing wrong with you genetically,” he began. “In terms of chromosomal makeup, you and Brent look perfect.”

I nodded slowly. “That’s…that’s good,” I glanced over my shoulder at Dad. “But then,” I looked back to Dr. Sims, “Why am I not healing?”

Dad’s arm squeezed around me gently. “That’s where the bad news comes in.” He said softly. “You know how we took samples of the stuff on your leg?”

“Yeah?”

“The results came back abnormal,” Dr. Sims said. “We’re not sure what that means yet, though. Once we’re done here with Mr. Dunbar, I want to take you to the nearest Accredited hospital to do more tests.”

I had to suppress a groan. More tests. “What would — what’re you looking for?” I asked.

Dad took over the conversation. “Well, answers. We now know Augustine’s tar, one hundred percent, is what’s making you sick. We just need to know how, and why.”

“Mr. Dunbar already got in contact with someone who can examine the tar for us. He just left to mail it. They’re in Boston, so it will take a day or two to get the sample there — but I know this person. She’d be able to uncover any secrets we wouldn’t be able to see.”

“And we need to make sure you’re okay, too.” Dad added. “See if anything’s changed since the last time we took blood, check your scars. Your arm could probably use a check-up too.”

“And I want to examine your conducrine gland, with your report of pain,” Dr. Sims continued. “I want to take a quantification assay and make sure you’re making enough proteins, and double check that you’re not having any complications. Maybe an MRI.”

I nodded once. “Okay.” I said, like I wasn’t both confused and dreading everything.

“Until then, if you have any more pain, you tell us, okay?” Dad practically demanded. Dr. Sims got up from his spot on the couch to set his computer back on the table, grabbing his empty cup and heading to the counter to get more coffee.

There was something I needed to know, though. “Did Mom’s com–conducrine gland ever hurt? When she was sick?”

I could feel Dad’s arm around me tense. “It did,” he said.

“So it’s happening to me too? I thought my test results came back normal, genetically.” I looked at Dad. “If it happened to Mom too, then how…”

A shadow crossed over Dad’s face as he scowled. “We’re wondering the same.”

The hot cup did nothing to warm me as my blood ran cold. They both seemed angry at the idea that Mom had something put in her, too — and I didn’t like the fact that despite reassuring me they’re not sure what the cause could be, they both seemed settled on a reason to blame.

Brent eventually stumbled downstairs looking refreshed after resting, which was a relief unlike any other as the image of his lifeless body began to lose its harsh edges in my mind’s eye. Dad managed to find and burn some eggs and turkey bacon as we waited for Zeke to return, and for a brief bit, it almost felt like I could pretend that everything was normal. That we were on some trip in a less-than-stellar rental and this was just breakfast after a night spent gaming or binging a movie series Dad insisted was fantastic.

Imagining was all I could do to keep from dwelling on the what ifs.

Zeke eventually came back — and then stepped back out, bringing in muddied ammo box after muddied ammo box. “They’re weather resistant,” he explained to Brent when he gave Zeke a bewildered look. “Which is needed when you live in a swamp. Good for hiding stuff.”

Dad crouched low and pulled his briefcase out from under the loveseat couch, saying, “I brought everything I could. Some stuff got damaged in Betty’s old storage unit, but I managed to salvage most of it.”

“Is that why you brought the briefcase?” Brent asked, glancing over at me. We had a bet going on what he was intending to do with it. “I thought you were just gonna start going back to work,”

Dad’s smile was half hearted. “Nope. Everything in here’s from my adventures,”

The way Dad sarcastically said adventures suggested it wasn’t the fun kind in the movies.

Dr. Sims began working at his computers at the small table, the mini-laptop perched precariously on his lap as the other two shared the liminal space of the wood. Dad sat on the couch between Brent and I and opened up his briefcase, revealing a hell of random stuff; dozens of crumpled and folded pieces of paper, random little shreddings that almost looked like trash. There was some flier that was badly taped together and newspaper clippings, notes upon notes in Dad’s scratchy handwriting layered in margins of scrap paper and what almost looked like…

“Comics?” I blinked, pulling up the creased stacks of paper. “Did you make a comic?”

I looked up at Dad in time to see him grimace. “No.” He said, flat. “Those were all clues some crazy killer left me while she tried to frame us all.”

I looked back down at the artwork in my hands. “Oh.”

“But there’s—“ Brent began flipping through the papers Dad shoved in his hands. “There’s DUP documents in this?”

Dad shrugged. “I had to hack into their database to get some answers. She was Augustine’s favorite lackey.”

“Always leads back to that bitch,” Brent murmured, glancing over at me.

“Brent.”

“Oh c’mon Dad, you can’t keep getting onto me about it,”

“Help me organize all this,” Dad commanded, ignoring Brent completely. “I printed out everything I didn’t have a physical copy of so this is…it’s gonna be a lot.”

“How the hell are we supposed to organize this?” Brent asked, incredulous.

“There’s serial numbers on them all,” Dad said, pointing to a row of one on a DUP document in Brent’s hand. “Find the connected files if you can.”

“Delsin, come here for a second,” Dr. Sims said at the table. Dad promised to return and help but asked that we get a head start while he was going over something with Eugene.

The comic wasn’t really a traditional one, but almost some sort of manga; a story about a rabbit that lost her family in an attack, and was safeguarded by a large dragon before being locked away. The art style was immaculate, I had to admit — but I didn’t get how some story with a dragon was supposed to be a hint, unless this version of the Zodiac Killer was hiding some code in the shading.

Brent nodded my way as I looked over the first page again. “What does that say?”

I shrugged. “Nothing much. Just a bunch of drawings.”

“I meant the back.”

“The—” I cut off, flipping the page.

Death is just a passing phase. I’ve danced with demise, and let me tell you, he’s a bad dancer (always stepping on my toes). But I’ve learned to embrace the macabre — to navigate its twisted depths. Conduits and “normals” are at a crossroads, and if we don’t look both ways, we’ll all get run down. All I want — all I’ve ever wanted — is harmony between people. Follow my lead and I’ll show you the trail of bodies. Seek out the corpses and you’ll find the truth decaying within.

“...Oh.” I said meekly. This had to be what Dad was talking about. Some twisted manifesto by a serial killer.

I flipped over the others, and each of them had something on their backs — some, notes, others, puzzles. “Hold on,” He said, leaning forward. He grabbed the second page of the manga. “‘If you’re trying to get into the DUP, I’ve been there. In fact, I died there.’” He read off. “Look, there’s that serial number thing Dad was talking about.”

I read off the row of numbers. “Do you have this file? Starts with, uh—” I glanced down again, “3485?”

Brent muttered the number to himself again and again as he flipped through the pages in his hand. “Here,” he finally said, pulling one out from the middle of the pile. It was a statement issued by Brooke Augustine herself on the death of a Conduit detained at Curdun Cay in a death by a thousand paper cuts — literally. Suicide by dozens of cuts created by paper doves. “Jesus Christ,” I murmured, imagining the pain. I read over the memorandum again, pointing to its first sentence, “There’s a number here, do you have a file for that one?” I asked Brent, “Ends in 2606,”

“I was just looking at that,” He said. “Fuckin’ — here. Some girl named Celia.” He looked over to Dad, who was behind Dr. Sims, reading something on a screen. “Who was Celia?”

“Paper conduit?” I asked, incredulous. She could control paper! Or, did — at least with enough control to kill herself.

Dad glanced over. “She’s the one that made those drawings.”

I blinked. “Guessing she also did the murders?”

“Yep.”

“How’d she get out?” Brent asked. “This says she died,”

Dad breathed deeply, Dr. Sims waving him off and letting him return to our side. “Augustine faked her death to sneak her out of Curdun Cay. Killed some random guard."

“But why?” I asked, looking up from the row of manga strips.

Dad didn’t answer — not at first, at least. He sighed deeply before reaching into the briefcase for a manila folder, opening it and peeking past the flap to check its contents. He nodded once before reaching in to start pulling out photocopies of pictures, laying them out facing us.

“Jesus,” Brent muttered.

I wasn’t prepared for it to be 90% bodies and death, of someone pinned to a billboard or being held against a wall by dozens of paper doves, bloodied and beaten and dead. “I need you both to look at this,” Dad said, looking up at us with a serious expression. There was barely any emotion in his face now, eyes peering at us like we were on the stand. “Augustine and Celia did this to keep up the narrative. Killed people that had ties to your mom and Eugene to make it look like it was them seeking revenge.” He leaned forward slightly. “And Archangel bombed COLE to try and get me to show myself. There are people out there that will see you as nothing more than a chance to hurt someone else. Nothing more than something to keep the story going. These are the kind of people I’m trying to keep from hurting you.” He looked between Brent and I. “Do you understand?”

I swallowed hard, forcing my eyes to peel away from the imagery of death and look somewhere, anywhere else. I wasn’t prepared for that. Bodies. A path painted in bloodshed long before I even had the chance to walk it, and littered with fresher meat for the sacrifice of someone else's cause. It felt so hopeless; was this really all there was? All there could be?

Looking away wasn’t a good idea, because my eyes moved from casualty to casualty as they landed on a picture of Mom next to some detective agency’s logo.

My hand was moving to pick up the file before I could even blink, bringing the black and white photocopy close to my face. I swear, if I concentrated hard enough, I could make her eyes move, almost see how she would bring her chin up and cock her head to the side like she did in the hallucination.

And this time, I wasn’t too sad while looking at the picture. Zeke was right; was it wrong to treat it as a fact even if there was a good chance it wasn’t? Maybe it was better, knowing the hallucination was just that and yet still being able to be a bit indulgent.

I forced my eyes off of Mom’s photo to the blurb under it, reading through the information this random detective agency had. “Wait,” I murmured, rereading a single line again and again. “Dad? This thing says Mom’s parents wanted to…wanted to talk to her again.”

Brent’s head snapped around to look at me. “What?” He demanded, snatching the page out of my hand and swatting me away when I tried to take it back. “Holy shit, that’s Mom,”

Dad meanwhile did nothing more than sigh hard. “We did hear from her parents. Shortly after we did the whole gender reveal thing.” His jaw tightened at the memory. “It didn’t go well.”

Brent lowered the page, brow knitting closer together as he looked up at Dad. “What do you mean?” he asked.

I put down the manga drawings in my hands, giving Dad my full attention too. I had always wondered, if we had a mom, where her side of the family was. I understood Dad was an orphan, he never shied away from that fact; but he never elaborated much on Mom except that her brother passed. I never found the courage to ask about grandparents on that side, either. Brent had once, and the scowl was enough to make me realize it was something he never intended answering.

Until now. “We had met somewhere in downtown Seattle, which was probably the first mistake. They both didn’t want to be in such a liberal area, and it didn’t help that Lifeline was protesting a lot more after the mass Curdun Cay release. Your mom was still on trial for her murders—”

“While pregnant?” Brent asked, eyes widening.

Dad shrugged. “All of us were. You think they were gonna let all of us go without a fight? There’s a reason the Akurans found your mom so easily.” He inhaled hard, trying to bleed the anger out of his voice. “They weren’t happy about the publicity of the trial. Add that on top of your mom having children with someone that wasn’t white, and the fact that they refused to apologize for turning Abbs in to the DUP and…well, why keep them around?”

“Jeez,” I hummed, glancing back down at the page in Brent’s hand, Mom’s face staring back at me upside down. I couldn’t think of much else to say but that, other than wishing I could’ve somehow supported Mom during that time. Her parents wouldn’t even say sorry for giving her away to the government!

Brent could form more words than me. “None of the shit she went through would have happened if they didn’t try to sell her in the first place,” He bit, angry at their audacity.

Dad nodded. “You would think they’d feel bad after everything that started coming out about Curdun Cay — the experiments and all that. But these are the same people Abbs told me didn’t think conversion therapy was a bad thing, so I guess they just saw it as another form of that.”

“Assholes.” Brent spit.

Dad didn’t reprimand him that time.

“Let’s just go through these files.” He finally decided. “Jean, get together all the F.A.N numbers from the back of those drawings. Brent, start throwing things in piles by person or facility or whatever.”

I snuck a chance at reading more of the manga as I scribbled down everything I found on a torn bill envelope Zeke passed over to me; it was Celia’s life story, pieced together by the files and clues connected to it. A girl who lost everything like so many others right here in New Marais before being found by a dragon and locked away in some cells carved into the side of a mountain. There was imagery of the child rabbit being torn in half as a being more sleek and pure colored rabbit, which I had to guess had to be her ‘death’ and rebirth, if the note on the back was anything to go by. In fact, I died there.

It never showed how she escaped, but the next page did show three others as they rushed away from the dozens of wyvern pursuing them — it took me longer than I’d admit to realize who they were. The next page spoke the representation clearly though; ‘Inazuma…vengeance now her drug of choice.’ The peahen was slaying shady looking shrews with needles slinging away from their hands.

Mom.

The next page featured a rooster named Ushinatta who had ‘went back to playing games’, the rooster opening its huge wings and calling down hens to peck at some bullies. That had to be Dr. Sims.

There was a third guy, though, that I realized I didn’t know.

Kemuri. Some sort of lizard…or maybe a gecko? “Who swore he’d never harm anyone” the page read as the gecko attacked a caravan driven by an elephant. There were three people that escaped that van, weren’t there? Mom, Dr. Sims…and someone else.

I lifted my head and was about to ask Dad when Brent said, “Here, this dude matches the drawing,” under his breath, handing me another DUP file. An incident report, in fact:

Despite our best efforts to isolate the detainees in as safe and thorough a manner as possible, two ward-mates developed a relationship that threatened to undermine the careful work being done with both: inmate 007-3171-8404 began looking out for 056-7339-2606, warding off any bullies and establishing a friendship. RESOLUTION: Inmate 007-3171-8404 was relocated to the maximum-security ward, due to his history of escape attempts and insurrection. Monitoring of inmate 056-7339-2606 has been increased ever since she used her daily paper privilege to create the attached image:

A full body drawing of the gecko was photo scanned with the DUP file, creased lines doing nothing to hinder the artwork.

My new friend was taken away today, the words under it read, It was my fault, I’m sure. I was just trying to be nice…just like he was nice to me. He told me I reminded him of his daughter. And now, just like my real parents— He’s gone.

“You got anything on this 8404 inmate?” I asked Brent. Dad was busy organizing a bunch of little tags, not even registering that we were talking.

Brent’s side of the floor looked way more organized than mine; perfect piles of paper with shredded clippings on top of each one, numbers or names scribbled on top. “Yeah, uh—” Brent’s eyes scanned the piles in front of him before he reached out, snatching the page away so fast that the clipping on top of it fluttered off somewhere. “Here. You plan on organizing the comic thing, by the way?”

“Fuck off,” I murmured, nearly laughing when Brent’s head snapped towards Dad as he waited for the reprimand, and balked when he saw it wasn’t coming. I stuck my tongue out at Brent before looking at the inmate file, trying to keep my snickering as quiet as possible.

Hank Daughtry. Apparently some guy that was a criminal before puberty, who’d rob or break out of jail every chance he got — but never harmed a civilian when he did. Curdun Cay was the first place to keep him in place. At least, till that military vehicle.

The power section, though, held all of the answers I needed; he could wield smoke. Embers and fire, too, if the paper was to be believed. I could hear the echoes of Dad’s voice in the back of my head: “She thought the guy I got smoke from told me about her plan — the breakout and DUP funding, all that.”

Betty had said Dad helped bring down her warehouse when he first got his powers. The first power. Smoke.

But that didn’t explain why Dad was so quiet about this guy. Why, before this moment, I had never heard of him. “Dad?” I asked.

He tore his eyes away from the newspaper clipping in his hands. “What’s up?”

“What happened to this Hank guy? You know, after Seattle?” I glanced down at the file again — there wasn’t even a picture of the inmate on this one. There was a wall of blacked out text at the bottom of the file, though. “Did he not help you guys?”

Behind Dad, Dr. Sims stopped typing, looking over to where we sat. Even Brent stopped to see what Dad was gonna say.

“He didn’t.” Dad said simply, jaw clenched. “It was just me, Eugene and your mom that took on Augustine.”

Brent blinked. “What, did he not want to?”

“I wouldn’t have let him if he did. He was a piece of shit, anyways.”

I glanced down at the inmate file; moral code, immense self discipline. Whatever issue Dad had with him sure didn’t seem to match the document. “What happened to him?” I asked.

“Does it matter?”

Dad’s voice bit with a ferocity that wasn’t usual from him unless we were in trouble. “I mean,” I scrambled to say, the tone activating the fear of getting grounded in me, “I guess not? I was just wonder—”

“Then there you go. It doesn’t matter.” Dad inhaled deeply before continuing, “If Daughtry’s files don’t have anything useful in them, then do me a favor.”

“What?”

“Throw them in the trash.” Dad said flatly, moving to get up. He left towards the kitchen where Zeke was messing with the discarded stuff from another ammo box, roughly grabbing the stale pot of coffee to pour a cup and drink it black in one go like it was a shot.

I looked over at Brent, bewildered, who was already turning back to face me with his eyebrows shot up so high they were close to disappearing into his unkempt hair. He mouthed What the fuck? at me and all I could do is shrug, taking the rest of the papers in Daughtry’s pile to look over. May as well double check them before they became landfill food.

Not that there was much left in his pile; There were three more pages with no more than three paragraphs on the largest one, each following reports of Daughtry possibly being seen somewhere in Seattle after he broke out blowing up cars in an attempt to assassinate that asshole senator who was caught years ago saying something about how Hitlers policies at least were keeping people safe in that leaked audiofile as he admitted to trying to replicate them for Conduits.

One of the bullet points on the results of the DUP’s investigation caught my eye, though: no residual signs of Ray Sphere radiation detected. Radiation? Why would there be radiation in the middle of downtown Seattle? “Does anyone know what ray — Ray Sphere radiation is?” I asked the room.

Over in the kitchen, Zeke’s head popped up, looking to Dad for a moment. Whatever he was trying to ask, Dad gave him permission with a shrug of his shoulders. “The Blast in Empire City was from a Ray Sphere.” Zeke began. He took a moment to dig in a box before pulling out one of those leather journals that always looked a little too light brown to be real, brass metal corners of the journal catching the light as Zeke flipped it open. “The First Sons made it.”

He began walking towards us with the journal as he flipped through pages, humming when he landed on what he wanted to show us. “Here. Journal’s useless in some spots ‘cause it’s written in code, but this is what the thing looked like.”

He flipped the journal over and held it out for me to take; the page was a sketch, one side full of components, the other what they all looked like pulled together into one device.

Brent snorted beside me when he scooted over to look at it, and I knew it was because we were thinking the same thing. “It’s shaped like a Death Star,” He said humorously, looking at me with an eyebrow raised.

“Just as powerful, too.” Zeke responded. “Thing blew up six blocks and killed thousands.”

That shut Brent up real fast.

“But I don’t—” I cut off, looking down at the drawing. The etchings beside each piece were all code, the only one highlighted being a jagged piece of rock. “Why would the DUP look for Ray Sphere radiation at an explosion site? Unless they thought someone was trying to take out Seattle.”

Dr. Sims moved off of the barstool, walking over. “May I?” he asked me, giving a nod of thanks when I handed the journal over. He perused the page and then looked at Zeke. “Where did you get this?”

“It was Wolfe’s,” Zeke answered.

That one word was enough to make Dad’s head snap up, and he turned around. “Raymond Wolfe?” He asked.

Zeke shook his head. “Sebastian, his brother.”

“Oh,” Dad said flatly. “The First Sons scientist. Great,”

Zeke shrugged, gracefully brushing off Dad’s disapproval. “Hey man, sometimes you have to be willing to drink the poison if it means you find out how it would kill someone. We used this to figure out how the RFI worked.”

Dr. Sims flipped through the next few pages, eyes lighting up. “I know this code,” he murmured, before looking up at Dad and Zeke and repeating the words. “I know this code — it was in one of the DUP files I stole. I could decode this journal,”

“Y’think it would have anything that would help us in it?” Dad asked.

Zeke looked over his shoulder. “Wolfe was the First Son’s top scientist. If there’s anyone that might have information, it would have been him.” Zeke shrugged. “I reckon it’s worth a shot.”

Dr. Sims snapped the journal shut, nodding. “I’ll move upstairs to the spare room, I’m going to need the space.” He said decisively. Each laptop was put in rest mode and shut, stored away at a speed I didn’t know what possible out of someone so lanky. “D, come get me if you all make any progress down here, okay?”

Dad looked at Zeke. “Do you still have the stuff from the runaround with Wolfe?”

Zeke turned to face Dad fully, watching Dr. Sims disappear up the stairs. “No, I gave it all to Alessia. She might still have it, if we’re lucky.”

Both Brent and my head shot up. “Wait, like, Aunt Sia?” I asked, looking at Dad.

Alessia was known to the world as the chairwoman of COLE and an old ringleader of Project Sanctuary, the nationwide underground anti-DUP movement. In those seven years the DUP had control and were hunting down Conduits to bag and tag, Alessia was trying to sneak Conduits over the border, stage protests, and…well, give the DUP a hard time. If it involved picketing or slashing tires, she was there, coordinating the attacks.

We didn’t know her as that woman for the longest time, though. To us, she was Aunt Sia; the woman who would watch us when Dad had to go take an exam while he was in school, or needed a break. A babysitter that cared so much about us. The cool lady who brought these fancy Japanese candies every time she’d come over and would take us to things like renaissance faires. I remember her teaching Dad how to braid my hair and making huge masterpieces out of legos with Brent, indulging me by declaring every little drawing I made a masterpiece. She had moved away six or seven years ago and we really only got to see her when there was some big COLE event near Portland.

But I was surprised to find out that she knew Dad as Delsin and not just Damion.

Dad’s eyes wandered off as he thought. “I…I could call her, see if she still has anything from then.” Eyes snapping back to Zeke, he added, “You’d have to show me how to make calls with your setup, though,”

“‘Course, it’s in my shed. C’mon, I’ll show ya,”

Zeke was heading towards the door with Dad hot on his heels, who only stopped in its frame to turn to Brent and I and say, “Take any notes on anything you don’t understand, okay? Maybe we’ll figure something out.”

He was gone before we responded.

“You think this was what he did the whole time?” Brent asked, looking at me and holding up the stack of files he hadn’t gone through yet. “Just reading files and shit?”

I shrugged. “Don’t know. Last I heard he was attacking innocent civilians and killing random passersby.”

Brent rolled his eyes. “How he dealt with all of this without killing someone, I’ll never understand.”

We worked in silence for a while, me taking the time to finish the story and begin to piece it to its pieces of evidence; Saisei had found a new friend, a bird with two heads, and it wasn’t hard to make the connection on who that was supposed to represent. He would tell her stories, and they would laugh for hours on end, the page said, largely contrasting the story Dad had told us. It had to be some sort of mockery thing; I send you running around, and you try to figure out why I’m a psycho. What a laugh!

But the dragon came down, disapproving of their banter. I fail to see the humor, it said, to which the two-headed representation of Dad replied look harder before beginning to fight her. The personification of Augustine. An epic battle of good and evil…but the roles were debatable the page read, like I was supposed to sympathize with Augustine as she fell to Dad’s talons.

I wasn’t ready to read the little bunny call Augustine’s character Mama.

“Look at this shit,” Brent murmured, handing me a page. It was an email log between two people. “Does this make sense to you?”

It made a lot of sense, too much sense, as I read the first message title: Purotekutā to me (“Saisei”).

I explained the comic to Brent as we reread the email chains together, the pieces of the truth falling in place. “Augustine asked her to stay in the shadows, that she can’t protect Celia.” I looked at Brent, bewildered. “D’you think she adopted Celia? Like, as her own kid?”

“Well she calls Augustine Mama in this thing—” he waved around the stack of stapled manga, “So I’m guessing so. Or whatever fucked up version of ‘family’ they were playing up there in Curdun Cay,”

“‘You have done everything I asked and more, but unless he can be controlled, Delsin is our enemy.’” I read from the email chain. “‘He is blinded by his power, he thinks he’s invincible. But without walls, without his brother, who will protect him?’”

Brent scoffed. “What a bitch. I should have killed her when we were fighting in the Sound.”

“Think that’s crazy, you should read the last entry on this thing.” I said, offering the paper with the email chain. “Celia messages Augustine saying something about needing to know whose purpose was stronger and that’s why she didn’t try to help her.”

Brent shrugged, taking it. “Raise a lunatic, and don’t be surprised when you’re eventually their victim.”

“Augustine really made everyone her pawn,” I hummed. “Mom, Dr. Sims, this chick. How much of it do you think was to protect Conduits?”

“Not enough, considering she lost.” Brent huffed.

#infamous second son #infamous #infamous erosion #delsin rowe #sucker punch productions #Eugene Sims #Fetch Walker #hehehehehehehehehe #Celia Penderghast #Brooke Augustine #Zeke Dunbar #God I wanna say the OC too but I know Gab's nosey ass reads tags first so I CAN'T #But heho #I forgot literally every other tag. pretend they're here.

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arecaceae175 · 2 years ago

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Febuwhump Day 8: Alt 6: Limp (Legend)

AO3 link. Warnings: internalized ableism

I’m on mobile so plz ignore any weird formatting

As soon as Legend woke up, he knew it was going to be a bad day. His legs and neck were stiff, his knuckles were throbbing, and everything hurt.

He supposed he should have seen this coming. They had been thrown from Wind’s Hyrule to Wild’s, right into a winter storm. Wild was quick to pass out elixirs and they put on all their warmest clothes. The stiffness had begun then, forcing Legend to walk with a pronounced limp.

The jarring change in weather wasn’t just affecting him, either. Last night, Wild and Time had both been moving much less than normal, and every movement was carefully calculated. The others all had various wounds that acted up from time to time. That was the cost of saving the world.

It was late into the morning and everyone else was already up. Time and Wild were both huddled close to the fire as a broth warmed in the cooking pot, and the others were all moving and getting ready for the day. As he lay in his bedroll, very carefully not moving, Legend felt weak. He was always more affected than the others by bad weather or long bouts of travel.

But, the others had drilled it into his head that they didn’t see him as weak, or a burden, and their voices floated into his mind.

You’re not weak for needing more rest.

Would you say the same thing when Sky has trouble breathing? Or when Wild’s scars are acting up? Or when Warriors is sleep-deprived because of the nightmares? No. So don’t say that about yourself.

We want to help because we care about you. You do the same for all of us.

Legend sighed, and his heart beat in time with the throbbing in his joints, and tried his hardest to believe them.

“Vet, you alright?” Hyrule asked.

Legend peeked an eye open and saw Hyrule kneeling close by. Legend’s innate response of of course, I’m fine was on the tip of his tongue, but he bit it back. The pain was intense and he truly wasn’t sure he could move past the stiffness in his legs. Legend let his eyes fall closed and draped a swollen hand over his head.

“No, not really,” Legend said.

“Why? What’s wrong?” Hyrule asked. His voice raised a pitch with anxiety so Legend was quick to reassure him.

“Nothing bad, I’m just… in a lot of pain this morning,” Legend said. His voice was quiet, like he was reluctant to admit a secret. That was what it felt like, at least. He was hard to admit he needed extra help today. “I don’t think I’ll be able to do much traveling today.”

“Oh, okay. That’s fine. I’ll go tell Time, and I’ll get you some of that tea you like. Do you need anything else?” Hyrule asked. He sounded so casual that Legend opened his eyes to stare at him again.

Legend knew he shouldn’t, but a small part of him always believed the others would be frustrated on his high pain days. They had never been anything but accommodating, and today was no different. Legend smiled and felt a warmth blossom in his chest.

“Thanks, Rulie. And if you’re offering… some food might be good,” Legend said. Hyrule smiled widely.

“Yeah, of course! I’m on it,” Hyrule said, and he jumped up and scattered out of Legend’s view.

Legend signed again, but this one was one of contentment. His body still hurt, it was stiff and it throbbed and it felt like it wasn’t going away anytime soon, but he had support. He could take the day to rest, and his friends wouldn’t think less of him. Soon enough he would be back on his feet, and Legend vowed to find a way to repay his gratitude to the most important people in his life

#febuwhump #febuwhump day 8 #febuwhump alt 6 #limp #fic #linkeduniverse #linked universe #Lu fic #tw:#internalized ableism #just a bit #and he’s working on it #lu legend #lu hyrule #ace writes #had to write chronic illness / disability legend bc I’m stuck in bed with my own stuff today

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starryserenade · 2 years ago

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Myth and Magic Ch. 6: Twilight

Fic Description: When Tir Na nÓg--the fabled land of the fae--falls to a dark power, the destinies of two young mice are set in motion. As each struggle to make their way in an ever-darkening world, they must learn to trust one another, or risk forever losing that which they hold most dear.

Chapter Description: Feverish dreams carry mysterious whispers, and magic spells start to unravel.

Commentary: Hi there! If you like what you read, please consider commenting, tagging, or even shooting me a message! I write mainly because I love to share my ideas about the characters with other fans, so it means a lot to me when I'm able to engage with others regarding those interests. Don't feel obligated, but know I'll always be grateful if you do. And to those of you who already do this, thank you so, so much <3

Links:

AO3

Prologue

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

~~~

“ ‘Mm’okay…really…” Mickey hissed through gritted teeth, even as Minnie hauled him to his feet. Though his whole body was uncomfortably warm and his head pounded incessantly, it was his leg that felt like fire. Since the moment the net had snagged him in the forest, it had not stopped burning with a searing pain. There were moments of relief but it had only gotten worse over the course of the day, and it felt like it was spreading.

Of course, he didn’t say this. He’d caused just about enough trouble for everyone today; the last thing he wanted to do was worry them more. Besides, even now as he struggled upstairs with his arm slung over Minnie’s shoulder, the pain was beginning to ebb. By the time Goofy had shown them the room and left them to their own devices, he was feeling well enough to dispute with Minnie the childish arrangements they’d been left with. Not well enough to win that argument, but he’d come to learn she was a fierce negotiator with that sweet, ringing chime that was her voice, so he doubted he’d have had the motivation to overcome her persuasions even if he’d been feeling perfectly healthy.

He settled abashedly into the bed she’d made up for him and was surprised by the exhaustion that came crashing over him. Minnie said something, and though he wasn’t sure what, he nodded anyway. Anything she said he was likely to end up agreeing with anyway, so he figured he might as well save himself the effort of arguing.

The rain outside sang with a steady rhythm with which his drowsiness grew, and it wasn’t long before his eyes grew too heavy for him to resist.

When he woke, he was surrounded by darkness. The blankets Minnie had tucked him into were gone. The whole room was gone. A cold wind howled, ruffling through his fur. Chilled stone pressed against his back and with a start, he sat up, squinting through the dark as his eyes adjusted. Dim firelight flickered against dark, mossy walls, fading into endless shadow as it reached into a deep abyss just steps from where he rested. Mickey swallowed nervously, his injured leg pulsing with a searing heat that had begun to web its way through the rest of his body. The cold of the cavern did little to cool him down, and he felt he was entirely drenched in sweat.

“M-Minnie? Goofy?” he called out, his voice echoing against the walls of the chamber. There was no answer. No sign of them anywhere. Deep worry settled in the pit of his stomach. Were they okay? What had brought him here? Where am I?

Chains rattled below. Mickey froze, holding his breath, and listened intently. A deep-throated growl rumbled from the abyss. It spoke no words, but he heard them in his head nonetheless, a gentler sound, but still powerful.

Mickey…

He didn’t respond. With every ounce of his being, he drew back his thoughts from the prying consciousness attempting to invade. But he was, of course, unskilled in this area. The walls he’d clumsily tossed around his mind crumbled, and the voice pressed more intensely this time.

Mickey…

If he couldn’t escape the confines of his mind, he’d pick himself up and run. But when he moved to stand, his leg buckled and gave out from under him, sending him right back to the floor with a tiny yelp. It was then, as he moved to push himself up, that he noticed his hands. Silver veins that gleamed even in the dark sprawled along the back of his palm, slowly creeping towards his fingers. They burned, and he let out a pained gasp as the rest of his body flared in their wake. He quickly found that the searing web of silver had encompassed him entirely, each branch creeping up from his wounded leg.

As he drew in a deep and labored breath, the voice tried one, final time.

Mickey…

Knowing he could not run, nor escape the call, Mickey finally forced himself to answer. “Wh-who are ya? Show yerself!” he shouted, then grit his teeth against a wave of heat and pain.

From the abyss, the sound of chains echoed across the walls. Mickey swallowed hard. An enormous silhouette appeared, climbing from the pit with claws the size of boulders. When it had risen, a scaled creature bigger than anything he’d ever seen stood before him. Its shape was obscured by smoke and shadow but he could see enough to watch as it lowered its massive head to him and opened its mouth to reveal rows of daggerlike teeth. It released a soft growl, and Mickey stiffened.

Dragon.

He felt he should do something, say anything. But a feeling like awe had fallen over him, and he could do nothing but watch with wide eyes and a pounding heart. As the smoke from its nostrils cleared, more of its features came into view. Its legs were bound with thick chains and the space around them seemed burned. The creature’s body glowed faintly, with a dull, golden light that seemed like it should have been brighter, and Mickey realized that what he’d thought were scales were far more featherlike in shape and spread. In the place where its eyes should have been, there was only darkness.

Caution abandoned him and Mickey reached out a gentle hand to press against the dragon’s muzzle. She rumbled softly and her body relaxed. Sympathy flooded Mickey'ss heart. Grand as this creature was, her majesty was faded and her heart wounded.

“What happened to you?” he breathed. There was no explaining what he felt, for it seemed to him that they’d met before. And the sight of her in so much pain was nearly too much for him to bear.

His question was left unanswered. The dragon parted her jaws, and a single command echoed among the confines of the cavern.

“ Come.”

Mickey shot up from the pillow, gasping for air as his dream faded into a fuzzy haze of a memory. A pulse of pain raced through him. With a labored breath, he collapsed again and glanced at his ungloved hand. Surely what he’d seen there before was only part of the nightmare. But no. Each silver thread still crept through him, leaving him utterly helpless. His body curled instinctively as the pain continued, shriveling against the growing strength of each pulse.

Minnie! He thought without really meaning to, clutching his chest and letting out a pained cry as another wave swept through him. He managed to open his eyes just enough to scan the faint silhouettes in the room. Of them, she was not one, and in a faint moment of clarity, his heart sank. It had been selfish to hope she’d stay. After years of confinement and solitude, she was finally free. Why would sh-

The thought trailed off without end. He cried out, feeling as though he’d been thrown into a pit of fire, and writhed endlessly in the heat.

“Mickey!”

The door flew open, and candlelight flooded the room. Mickey felt his heart might leap out of his chest as he heard the voice. In an instant, Minnie was by his side, and he managed to draw in a single deep breath as she grasped his hand. He wasn’t sure what to cherish more. The subtle relief of magic that swept his veins, or the simple fact that was her presence.

“I’m so sorry!” she breathed. There was a certain elation in her voice that he couldn’t quite pinpoint, like a weight had been lifted from her. But the light was dulled by fear, and Mickey couldn’t help but feel responsible. “I was helping Goofy make up dinner for you, and I ju–” Her voice hitched, and Mickey stole a glance at her face. She peered at him with eyes wide, lips parted in paralyzed fear as she lifted the candlelight to him. “Mickey, what is this?” she whispered, voice trembling as she touched the silver veins running through his hands.

“...Dunno…” was all he managed to speak, although he’d wanted to say more. It was difficult to croak even that much.

“I’ll go get Goofy!” she promised, but the moment Minnie drew her hand away, the pain immediately flared again. Mickey flinched, and a pitiful whimper escaped his lips. “Ngh…Min, please…” he gasped, reaching for her hand. Despite the fever, he had at least the sense to know something about her touch lessened the agony.

She cast an uncertain look at the door frame, but Mickey’s pleas won her over. “I shouldn’t have left you for so long,” she whispered, then set the lamp down and took a seat on the bed. Gently, she took his hand and began to run her fingers across the places where the silvery poison had spread. Slowly, the flaming heat cooled, like a gentle river had come to put out the fire.

“Yeah,” Mickey managed to choke, and he summoned the closest thing to a mischievous grin he could manage. “Thought you’d left me for good.”

He’d meant it entirely as a joke, but it was enough to make Minnie freeze. She paused and looked down at her lap. Mickey swallowed. That single motion spoke volumes. Had she stayed for sheer pity? Fear? The idea that he might be keeping her from living in freedom was the worst thing he could imagine. “Minnie.” He squeezed her hand and she looked at him. His eyes were utterly focused on her, and dead serious. “Minnie, I’ve caused ya enough trouble already. Please don’t stay ‘cause of me. I’ll be alright.”

This was enough to warrant a reaction, apparently, though not the one Mickey expected. Instead, she wrinkled her nose and glared at him. “I’ve had just about enough of others deciding my fate! I’ll stay for whatever reason I’d like, thank you,” she snapped, looking down her nose. When Mickey stared back at her, confused by her rage, she sighed and softened her voice. “I’m sorry. It’s just…what kind of friend would I be if I left you like this? You helped me before. Now it’s my turn. This is my choice. Let me make it.”

Mickey bit his lip awkwardly and was quiet for a few moments, more than happy to grant that request, but worried he might upset her again either way. “Well…” he coughed at last. “I, uh…can’t argue with that, can I?” When she looked back at him, and he at her, they both shared a moment of quiet before bursting into a fit of gentle laughter. This was not the most comfortable thing for Mickey, given his current state, but he cherished it nonetheless. Minnie had a way of bounding so seamlessly from mood to mood that he couldn’t help but find humor in it.

“No, I suppose you can’t,” Minnie grinned, a sweet, pleasant thing. “Seems we’re connected, after all.” She gently rolled up his sleeves, and with a sweep of her fingertips, the silver web across Mickey’s arm began to ebb. “Does that feel better?”

Mickey nodded. It did. And yet the moment she let go it flared up all over again. He yelped, grasping at his leg where the fire burned hottest. Minnie pulled back and brought a worried hand to her heart.

“S-sorry!” Mickey hissed through bared his teeth.

“No, no, don’t apologize,” Minnie breathed. She shifted closer to the base of the bed and turned so that she could kneel beside him. “Is this where it hurts?” She moved his hand to the side, and placed hers where it had been.

He felt her touch through the tear in the fabric, and knew immediately she’d found the source. He nodded, and gingerly, she rolled back the fabric until it bunched just below his knee. It took all he had not to whimper as it brushed up against his wound and shook him with another shock of searing pain. His vision was blurred but he squinted through it nonetheless, hoping to catch sight of what it was that had caused him so much trouble. Minnie pointed it out before he even had the chance to look.

“Oh, Mickey, you poor thing…” she breathed, and hovered over the wound. “How did that simple net do this? ”

Sure enough, there was a deep red ring–something akin to a burn–where the net had snagged him. The silver branches stemmed from the wound, as if a metallic poison was still seeping through his veins. Minnie drew in a sharp breath and bit her lip, then seemed to whisper a prayer of sorts before laying her hand against it. Fire and ice shot through Mickey, and he dug his fingers into the blankets with a cry of pain. This was not the comfort he’d expected from her touch. With every pulse of relief came an equally strong wave of fire. The heat was so intense that Mickey almost lost consciousness all over again, and was forced to collapse back against the pillow, doing everything he could to keep still.

Minnie, too, was struggling. Her lips were pursed in concentration, brow dripping with sweat. A power flowed from her, yes, but she grew paler with every moment. Had Mickey seen this, he would have certainly kept her from continuing. But as it stood, he had squeezed his eyes shut and was completely unaware of anything except for the searing flames he felt rising within him. He was about to plead for her to stop anyway, when with a final rush of riverlike cold, the intense heat dissolved into a gentle warmth.

He heard Minnie gasp, but didn’t have the strength to open his eyes and see why. He lay against the pillow for several long minutes, gulping in air as his fur dripped into the blankets around him. Finally, he blinked and rose slowly, still trembling. But the pain was gone and with a swift glance at his hands, he saw that the silver veins had disappeared entirely.

Then he saw Minnie. She leaned breathlessly against the windowsill, her face deathly pale. In an instant, he had thrown the covers off himself and moved to her side. When she saw him, she smiled lightly. “I…didn’t know if that would work…” she gasped. “I’ve only tried it once before.” Though she was weak, her eyes twinkled with pride.

Mickey breathed a shaky sigh of relief as she spoke. “Boy, did it,” he chuckled, and nudged her gently. “I feel right as rain.”

Rain. Mickey’s eyes fell to the window, where the raindrops had been sliding down since long before he’d entered the room. Only now, they acted differently. They clumped together, forming crystalline pools around the glass where Minnie rested her head. Strange, but it seemed almost as if they were trying to reach through to her.

I was cursed…

Her words echoed in his head. She had come from the water, had nearly frozen as if her body was made of it. There was a reason she was tired. While heat could thaw the waters of a frozen lake, it could also send them evaporating into the air. She had used too much of her own strength to help ease his own inferno.

Gently, Mickey slid off the bed, shaking his head to clear the dizziness that hit him as he stood. When he’d recovered, he tested his leg and, when it held, he grinned and turned back to Minnie. “Hey, Min, I need a breath of air. Care to join?”

Weakly, she lifted her head. “In this rain? You’ll catch a cold all over aga-”

“Awe nah, you took care of that,” Mickey laughed, holding out his hand. “Come on. I’ll carry ya.”

She gave him a curious look, but she was either too tired to argue or, surprisingly, actually enjoyed the idea. With a delicate nod, she smiled and held out her hand. Mickey winked and scooped her up in his arms, laughing as she let out a tiny peep of surprise.

He felt ten times his old self as he rushed downstairs, Minnie clinging to his neck as he leapt down each step. When they reached the bottom, Goofy was there in the kitchen and gave them both a surprised look. “Gawrsh! Feelin’ better, are ya?” he laughed, and Mickey tossed him a cheerful nod.

“Courtesy of miss mermaAA–” He felt Minnie pinch him, and he quickly corrected himself. “Minnie! Courtesy of Minnie!” Goofy chuckled and shook his head, and Mickey heard Minnie giggle in turn beside him. “Figured we’d go out and enjoy the rain! ‘Cos, y’know, we don’t get enough o’ that these days.”

“Oh, please! It was your idea!” Minnie hissed in his ear, but Mickey only laughed as he bounded outside.

The rain came in torrents, as it had when they arrived, but it was a more pleasant temperature this time. Minnie drew in a deep breath as it soaked her fur, and perked up almost immediately. Even Mickey enjoyed the feeling of the fresh droplets, relishing the way they washed away the sweat and grime of his feverish ordeal. He walked through the streets, Minnie snuggled against his chest, and thought the town itself seemed much brighter than the day just prior. Funny how a day is all it takes to turn the world around.

The sky still held a touch of afternoon light but this was swiftly fading, so Mickey found a twisted tree on the outskirts of town and helped Minnie sit beneath it. She whispered a 'thank you', and he grinned in reply as he sat beside her. While sunsets were not exactly stunning sights anymore, he figured it couldn’t hurt to hope for a good one this evening.

Both were so exhausted by what the day had wrought that neither much wanted to discuss it. So they talked about silly things mostly, as they sat there beneath the rain-filled canopy. Like the sorts of food Minnie used to enjoy, and the most interesting places Mickey had come across in his years of travel. When they had talked for nearly an hour and the light of twilight was fast approaching, Mickey asked Minnie of the song she had been singing when they met.

She looked at him silently for several moments, then at the sky. He thought he saw something like an idea spark behind her eyes, but didn’t have a clue what that could be.

“I’ll sing it for you,” she murmured at last. And as the sunlight slipped away and the clouds above them parted to reveal a sky painted with blue, purple, orange, and pink, Minnie opened her mouth and began to sing.

Twilight had come.

From a distant forest, a flash of green light burst across the sky. Minnie felt it. Neither of them saw it. A spell had been broken, and another cast. But for now, though wicked magic had just been freed, the two mice were hidden from its grasp. Enchantment shuddered across the village, carried through the air on wings of song. None knew but one. None knew but Minnie.

And even she didn’t know how briefly it would last.

#things are about to start heating up #promise #StoriesComeAlive #myth & magic #myth and magic #mickey mouse #Minnie mouse #fanfiction #my writing

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inochinoyomikata · 2 years ago

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Inochi no Tabekata ch 2-2 Translation

Chapter 2-2 あなたのことなんて何一つ知らなかった I don’t know anything about you Kawauso (Otter)

He was woken up by the alarm on his cell phone.

“...Huh.”

While thinking the sound was irritating, The Otter whispered to the cell phone on his bedside. He picked it up and turned off the alarm. All right. Alarm. It rang many times. He had set it. Calm. Making excuses in his mind, he rolled up the comforter and turned it into a pillow.

Huh.

The alarm’s sound was different?

Well then.

Goodnight.

At that moment, his phone started ringing again.

“...The heck?”

Should he just ignore it?

The moment he thought such an outrageous thing, a pain ran through his left ear. “Come on Oruba, you…”

He knew right away it was Oruba doing. The Otter lived alone in an 1LDK. The only thing that could gnaw his ears was Oruba.

“...I know, I know…”

He picked up his phone again. When he pried his heavy eyelids open and looked at the display of his phone, it said it had been from “Senpai.”

“Oh no! It wasn’t an alarm! The t-the phone— Crap…”

The Otter jumped up and answered his phone.

“Y-yes, hello, hello, g-good morning, This is The Otter…”

“That’s a lot of ‘hello’s.”

“Ss-sorry, I j-just woke up.”

“I’m not blaming you. I mean, don’t apologize. You apologize too much.”

“S-sor— ah. I apologized again…”

“If I stretched your tongue and tied it tight, I wonder if you’d understand.”

“I- aa. My tongue, tied, that’s scary.”

“I’m not being serious.”

“You can’t do it, even if you’re a senior…”

“What do you think of me?”

“Of course, I think you’re a great senior. I respect you. Seriously, I respect you. And I wonder if this feeling is worship…”

“I’m not the type of person to be worshipped, but I wouldn’t do something like that kind of torture casually.”

“I think it pretty dangerous to think of torture as casual…”

“I’m done talking nonsense. A victim has been found.”

“I see. Want me to get you again?”

“Yes. Again.”

“I understand. I’ll be out soon. As soon as possible.”

The Otter moved at the speed of light, the speed of light was an exaggeration, speed of sound, no, the speed of sound was also an exaggeration, anyways, he got ready at full speed.

It wasn’t because The Otter’s real name contained the character for “ash,” but for some reason The Otter mostly had gray suits. He chose a gray suit again today, and a shirt that was navy blue. In front of his mirror, he put on a tie with a non-flashy pattern.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Ah, socks, socks. My hair is jumping…”

He put Oruba on his left shoulder and pulled out into the parking lot before realizing it was just before done. He should’ve checked the time with his phone, but he was totally unaware of it.

“This is what it’s like…”

The Otter got out of the car. He picked up Senpai and Garm on the way and headed to the scene. Senpai was wearing her usual black pantsuit and white sneakers, and her hair was a little wet. Had she just taken a shower? He thought about it and felt a subtle itch.

Come to think of it, did Senpai have a boyfriend?

He felt he’d be kicked if he asked. He couldn’t really ask.

After all, she was his senior, though he felt she would answer him unexpectedly.

Like simply “right here?”

He wondered she had one. Of course, it was not unusual to have one or two lovers . He could live without her. It wasn’t like she had a rough temper, but she was a pretty fierce, intense person. Work was work too. Garm was there too. If Garm was an invisible opponent, was there any particular problem?

The Otter had dated a normal girl who couldn’t see Oruba. Even then, when he was young, he had quite the reputation. He was still young, but there were circumstances that made it quite difficult to do that kind of work.

It wasn’t time to give up on love. Could he even afford to do that?

That was why he was sure Senpai was also free. No matter how you look at it, she was a working woman. She must be free. She was a free person. He wanted her to be free. That was it. Free was good.

Senpai was probably free.

After all, she was only Senpai.

For example, if it turned out that Senpai had a lover and they lived together, The Otter would probably be disappointed. Definitely hurt.

What was it? If the idol you like suddenly got married, as a fan, you can’t help but despair. Was Senpai his idol? Was The Otter Senpai's fan?

Senpai was silently touching her phone. She was in contact with her lover. No, no. That could not be the case for Senpai.

Was it really impossible?

The Otter only knows Dahlia 4’s Doll Senpai. Only the face that Senpai showed at work. They didn’t talk privately. He didn’t know where she was from or what her family was like. One day, he’d casually asked her when her birthday was, and she scolded him saying “why don’t you tell me?” Did it piss her off?

He was curious about a lot of things. Once he started to worry about it, he couldn’t help but continue to worry about it. Thanks to that, his driving has become a little rougher than usual, but Senpai didn’t say anything. Had she gotten angry?

This time, the scene was under an underpass, less than two kilometers away from the housing complex where the old woman had died unexpectedly the other day. Police were nearby and a cordon had been set up. The Otter parked his car in front of it.

Under the overpass of the area was a parking lot, a bicycle parking lot, a park, etc. The victim was found between parking lots, in a passageway reserved for pedestrians and cyclists only. A man who had happened to be passing by found the victim sitting with his back leaning against the graffiti-covered concrete bridge pier, and sensed that something was wrong. He seemed to have reported it.

At the scene, there was Detective Kogure in a dark blue blouson.

“There it is. That wound.”

Detective Kogure told him while scratching around the hairline on his forehead. The moment he saw that behavior, The Otter involuntarily muttered an “Ah.”

“...Yes? What?”

“No, it’s nothing.”

After The Otter hurriedly covered it up, Detective Kogure didn’t push further.

The victim remained seated as he was found. Shaved head. Baggy pullover hoodie and cargo pants. Rugged sneakers. In his twenties at a glance. Twenty years old or so. There were tattoos on the backs of his hands and fingers, which hung loose besides his knees.

The young man with the shaved head was hunched over. His head was tilted slightly to the left, and confirmed the right side of his neck had a scratch and a hole with a diameter of 2 or 3 millimeters.

Senpai, with Garm, crouched down and stared at the young man’s corpse.

He smelled of alcohol. When he looked, there was a can of Chu-hi lying next to the right thigh of the corpse. Some of the contents were spilled and the road was damp. He wondered if the young man had been drinking when he was still alive.

“Earlier…”

Senpai said while looking at the young man.

“What was it?”

“Huh? Just now–”

“Didn’t you try to say something to Mr. Kogure?”

“No, I wasn’t trying to say it. I just thought about it.”

“Say it.”

“But seriously, you really shouldn’t care, it’s really not a big deal…”

“Say it. I’m curious.”

“...I’ve always thought that detective looked like someone. I don’t know who. It just flashed in my head. Columbo?”

“Columbo?”

“Is that not it? It’s a little old. Was it a drama? A movie? Detective Columbo(1). It’s American.”

“Mr.Kogure looks like a foreigner?”

“Something like that. He’s finicky. Finicky? It’s his atmosphere. Generally speaking, I’ve never seen Columbo.”

“I’ve never seen it, but he looks similar.”

“That’s why I didn’t want to say it. If it was an obvious resemblance, I’d tell him. I’d even ask him if he’d tell me he looked like Detective Columbo.”

“This is more stupid than I could imagine. Don’t say that ever again. Columbo or whatever.”

“...Sorry.”

He ended up doing it again.

Would the day come when he wouldn’t have to apologize to Senpai? It will never come. He was sure he wouldn’t be able to raise his head to Senpai for the rest of his life. He apologized every time she got mad at something. Years and decades ahead. Until The Otter leaves this world. In The Otter’s perspective, forever.

The young man’s body does not appear to have any trauma other than the hole.

The victim just sat there until his heart stopped. There is little to no evidence that he acted violently before his death.

The old woman died quietly in a room in her housing complex, while this man died quietly under an overpass. Additionally, six days ago, while leaning against a vending machine about a kilometer from here, a 46-year-old office worker was found dead.

Fifteen days ago, a 32-year-old woman died in an apartment not far from the building where the vending machine was installed. She was crouching on the balcony of her room. The finder was a man who was in a relationship and was being questioned on suspicion of involvement in the death.

All four had holes two or three millimeters in diameter in their necks. The cause of death has not yet been determined. However there was a life reaction to the hole-shaped wound. That is, wounds inflicted while alive, not after death. Those bled a lot less.

Presumably, someone stitched some thin instrument into the victim’s neck. Then something happened and the victim’s heart stopped. When the heart stopped beating, the blood flow naturally stopped. After the victim died, someone pulled the device out.

The police have not ruled it an incident or an accident. Since the matter of the hole has not been announced, it was taken modestly by the press.

For the time being.

He didn’t know what would happen if similar deaths occur one after another.

After confirming the victim, Senpai asked Detective Kogure about this and that. About the first discoverer, the victim’s identity and whereabouts. Detective Kogure promised her there were many things they still didn’t understand, so he’d report them together later.

“On second thought, is that what you were talking about?”

Detective Kogure asked Senpai while scratching his forehead around his hairline. Was it a habit? Maybe it was a habit. The Otter didn’t even know if Detective Columbo was a movie or a drama, but he’d seen it on TV a few times. He thought the main character, Columbo, would hold or scratch his forehead like Detective Kogure does. The fluffy and slightly disheveled hairstyle also felt like Columbo.

“It shouldn’t be.”

While Senpai answered curtly, Detective Kogure shrugged his shoulders and gave a wry smile. His face was somewhat similar as well. He didn’t think so.

When he left the scene and returned to his car, it was already dawn. Senpai started talking to her boss on the phone, so The Otter looked for a convenience store to buy some coffee. He found a convenience store within three minutes of walking.

Senpai, who seemed to prefer black coffee, only wanted to drink cafe au lait in a chilled cup or coffee and milk in a carton. Senpai insisted it wasn’t that she couldn’t drink it, but he doubted it.

The Otter usually got black coffee. Even if sometimes he wanted to drink sweet coffee, he chose black as an adult’s taste. Especially in front of Senpai, it was black coffee only.

He carefully chose and selected and bought sweet buns, rice balls, and chocolates in bags. After leaving the convenience store, he was on the right way home, but he casually looked to the left.

At that time, if he hadn’t turned his eyes to the left, he might not have seen the target. The Otter had been out shopping, not searching. So this was just a coincidence.

A man was walking about twenty meters ahead. Medium build and height. Would be a male. Wearing a military-style jacket and denim underneath. He had black hair. He looked young.

Although it was early in the morning when the sun just started to rise, this man was by himself walking the streets. He could ignore him. However, there was something like a long string hanging from the cuff, and he was dragging it as he walked. What was it?

The Otter glanced over his left shoulder. Oruba’s face was scrunched, showing small fangs. Something like that string was not normal. Oruba seems to feel the same way.

The man doesn’t turn around. He keeps walking. He doesn’t seem to notice he’s being watched by The Otter.

The Otter decided to follow the man. Now that he was finished shopping, he was going home. Since he was busy, he sent a message. He put it in silent mode and put it in his pocket while holding it in his hand. He received a call back shortly after. The Otter answered the phone.

“Are you following that strange man?”

“Yes.”

The Otter covered his mouth with his hand and whispered. Senpai was also hiding her voice.

“Okay, I’ll be there soon.”

“If you could.”

“Hold him if you get noticed. Don’t let him escape.”

“Roger that.”

The Otter hung up the phone and put it in his pocket.

The man walked down the street along the overpass.

Eventually, they turned the corner. Beyond that, low-rise apartments and houses were lined up. This road was straight and the visibility was too good. The Otter kept his distance. He went into an alley, stuck his face halfway out, and watched what the man was doing.

The otter withdrew his face as the man turned around. Was he detected?

After waiting a while, he put his head out. There was no man. The Otter became impatient and wanted to run out of the alley. No, calm down. Take a deep breath and slowly exit the alley. Hurry up, but be careful not to make any footsteps, and proceed until you finally see the man. There was a vacant lot to his left. It looked like the building was just demolished and cleared.

An apartment building was built across from the vacant lot. A man was standing just inside the premises. He held a cell phone to his ear. He saw him.

Sure enough, he was young. He would be in his twenties. Maybe even a high school student. The man ran.

The Otter also ran after him. Did he screw up? Would Senpai get mad at him again? The man walked out of the apartment complex onto the street beyond and turned right. It looked like he was talking to someone on the phone, but he couldn’t hear it.

The Otter also went out onto the street. The man was running about fifteen meters ahead. He was fairly fast. But not as fast as a sprinter. If the Otter ran at full speed, he would catch up.

However, he was worried about the something like a string that the man was dragging. What was that?

It was a two lane road. The light was still red when The Otter reached the road. A truck was coming. At the last minute, The Otter decided to cross the road without stopping. The truck honked at him and his heart sank.

The man entered a narrow road by a pedestrian traffic light. Just as The Otter stepped into the lane, the man was about to run into the alley on the right. Waiting for the truck to go took too long.

If he had waited, he would’ve lost sight of him.

“Nice, that’s…!”

The alley the man ran into was between a town factory and an old apartment. Drum cans and metal dustbins were lined up, narrowing the already narrow alley even further.

The man glanced back at The Otter and pulled over the oil drum. There was a loud noise, and overturned drums blocked the alleyway. Wow. The Otter opened his eyes.

“--Oruba!”

Oruba, who had been clinging to his left shoulder, almost instantly ran down The Otter’s back and entwined itself around his right leg. For those who couldn’t see Oruba, nothing has changed. But now Oruba was integrated with The Otter’s right leg.

When The Otter’s right leg disguised as Oruba, or Oruba disguised as the Otter’s right leg, kicked the ground, something simple but extraordinary happened.

The Otter flew.

He didn’t jump off. But it was better than the world record holder for the highest jump. It was as strong as a pole vault. Moreover, The Otter flew as light as a joke and as high as a lie.

“Ha-”

He forgot that the man was running away and stopped.

The Otter flew between the town factory and the old apartment. The man was looking up at The Otter with his mouth wide open. In the blink of an eye, The Otter jumped over the man.

The Otter’s right leg was Oruba’s head. Oruba’s mouth was located at the tip of his toe. His left leg was still alive. If he took the impact of a big jump with his left leg, he’d be in trouble. So The Otter landed on his right leg. Behind the man. As it was, he turned his body around with his right leg as the axis. “It’s no use running away…!”

The Otter grabbed the collar of the man’s jacket with his right hand.

“Gah.”

His neck was caught and the man leaned back.

It was at that time.

“Shhk….”

Something touched The Otter’s neck. Was that it? At one The Otter stretched his left hand to the nape of his neck. There was a string. That was it. Something like a string was hanging from the man’s cuff. When he grabbed and tried to pull it, it slipped away. It wrapped itself tightly around The Otter’s left wrist.

“This is-”

The Otter landed a knee to the man’s left flank. The man groaned. Even so, the force that was tightening around his left wrist did not weaken.

“I was taking it easy that time…!”

This time, he kicked the man’s right side with his right leg, which was integrated with Oruba.

“Agh…”

The man yelled. The man’s ribs were broken, or rather, his leg was felt, and the something like a string separated from The Otter’s left wrist. With his freed hand, he immediately grabbed the man’s hair. He pushed him against the outside wall of the apartment and twisted his right arm up with his right hand.

There was nothing on the cuff. He couldn’t find anything like a string.

Impossible.

By the time he thought that. The Otter had already released the man and jumped up. A vertical jump without running up. Even with Oruba’s right leg, he could go three meters.

The strings were dancing in the air. The Otter tried to get away from the man and attack, but the man dodged. He was mad that the man had dodged.

But what the hell, was this serious?

It looked more like a long earthworm than a snake. It looked like a tapeworm too. Of course, worms and tapeworms didn’t fly like that. It was disgustingly active. It was too dynamic. He felt sick.

More than that, it was dangerous.

Was it that guy’s doing? The Otter suspected so.

Four people died in just a half a month. All of them had scars like holes. It must’ve been something like a tapeworm, like an earthworm that’s too active and too long. It entered the victim’s body through a hole-like wound and stopped the heart.

The Otter’s body was starting to fall under the pull of gravity. He tried to stomp him with Oruba’s right leg, but he was dodged.

As soon as he landed on Oruba’s right leg, he jumped again. Not above but forward. It was annoying, but he should retreat at once. The earthworm or the tapeworm must be a murderer. A guy who could kill people. The Otter didn’t want to die, and they couldn’t afford to be killed.

When he jumped out of the alley, it was a path that didn’t have a sidewalk. A car rushed down the road. A minivan. Near.

“Hey, you’ll run over–”

His lower body ruptured. It was such a shock he had a vision. The Otter managed to avoid the minivan. But he didn’t make it in time. The Otter was hit by the manivan and spun several times in the air. The moment he hit the ground, everything went black.

Was he dead?

He seriously thought so, but apparently he was still alive.

“Uugh…”

That groan. It’s mine.

It sounds like my own voice.

The Otter was twisted lying face down. His vision was hazy and distorted. It hurt, or rather, it was terrible. He had no feeling in his body. He didn’t think it was nonexistent, but it was almost nonexistent.

“He’s moving.”

Someone said. Who might that be? A man’s voice.

“I’ll carry you.”

“Just like this? He’s still alive. What are you going to do?”

Not alone. How many people were there?

Shit.

This was no good. What was it?

What went wrong?

He didn’t know. He was about to fail.

His consciousness was fading.

Senpai–

---

(1) Columbo is a crime-drama series from the 1970s following a detective of the same name.

#inochi no tabekata #inochi no tabekata translation #e ve

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