Tumgik
#anyways I got my first shot today and it went well! I’m terrified of needles and the doctor who did it was so sweet and was reassuring me
delimeful · 3 years
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(dont) take this the wrong way (6)
warnings: misunderstandings, trauma responses, illness
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Patton and Roman went in circles for a moment on who should carry Logan, eventually settling on Patton, since Roman was the quicker between the two of them and they were alarmingly unsure of what the small mer was planning— or how negatively that plan would affect the little guy.
Roman couldn’t help but be a little jealous anyways at the sight of the human pressing his tiny face against the palm of Patton’s hand, still mostly unconscious despite the jostling. It was unfairly adorable, and he never got to hang out with humans that weren’t terrified or fled at the sight of him.
Logan had started off scared too, sure, but after they’d cleared that little misunderstanding up, the human had shooed him away with an itty bitty stern look.
He’d listened, of course, he certainly owed these two that much, but internally he was gleeful at how bold Logan was when hanging out with them. Maybe he’d even come back and they’d learn more of his language and he could needle the nerd into telling him more about surface life—!
But of course, that required that he get better first.
It seemed obvious now, with the feverflush to his skin and the subtle tremor even as he slept, but the signs were so tiny on him, they might not have noticed for ages yet. He was inordinately grateful that the little mer had brought it to their attention, even if it also meant learning just how lowly the little guy thought of them.
When they returned from the air room, the tiny mer hadn’t twitched from his spot, though he looked as though he wanted to vibrate right out of his skin.
Agonizingly, he only seemed to get more stressed at the sight of Patton’s cupped hands, gaze darting between them for a moment before he flitted forwards and pressed an earfin to the makeshift airseal, staying in place only long enough to catch the sound of Logan’s little raspy breaths.
Roman opened his mouth, arms sliding up to gesture, and the tiny mer shot all the way back across the room like quicksilver. He had a moment to realize that with that speed, they’d never have ‘caught’ him in the first place if he hadn’t been trapped by that net, and then he felt immensely guilty for clearly spooking the little guy.
“How about you lead the way?” he asked, trying to distract their flighty little friend before he started tearing hair out. “The exit is one cave down, we’ll follow to wherever you think is the best place.”
He was shaking his head before Roman even finished. “No, I’ll follow, you— whoever stole him, you have to take him back to that beach. You remember... right?”
Roman turned to glance at Patton, who nodded firmly. “I’ll get us started then, kiddo.”
He cradled his cupped hands to his chest and swam deeper, easily twisting through the exit tunnel into the open ocean. Roman nodded at the little mer and followed, hoping that the little guy wouldn’t just vanish.
Only a moment later, he flitted out after them, and Roman caught the desperate longing that crossed his expression for a moment at the sight of wide open terrain. It vanished after a single glance at Patton’s cargo, replaced by a grim scowl.
If it weren’t for the human, Roman had the feeling that the mer would have turned and vanished, too quick and small for them to ever see again.
Instead, he hovered carefully out of lunging reach as they traveled, watching their every move with narrowed eyes. Every unconscious twitch of Patton’s hands seemed to make him flinch in response, as though he was expecting something horrible would happen to the human at any moment.
Normally, Roman would have been quite offended about this implied slight against Patton’s character, since his friend was just about the gentlest guy he knew. With circumstances what they were, however, he remained silent. He knew that this wasn’t really a reflection on Patton, but rather someone else entirely, a phantom presence that was still haunting the small mer.
Roman let out a breath of relief when they finally resurfaced, a human beach visible nearby. Patton unfolded his hands as soon as they were above water, and they both peered nervously down at the human.
“He doesn’t look like he’s gotten any worse,” Patton murmured, angling his hands so their small tagalong could see as well. “This is fairly close to the beach I found him at!”
“It seems the early hour has served us well,” Roman added, making sure not to gesture as he usually would. “There doesn’t appear to be anyone else around. Should we set him on the beach?”
The tiny mer jolted when he realized that they were both looking to him, flitting back and forth in nervous motions. “Uh, yeah— Yes. But be careful. And make sure you put him high enough that the tide can’t drag him back.” He continued in an undertone, “With his luck, it’ll be ages before another human appears.”
“I’ll do it!” Patton announced, already pushing forwards to shallower waters. “Roman’s likely to beach himself if he goes too far inland, and that’s shore to make things difficult!”
Roman groaned, flicking his fingertips at the siren. “That was one time! One-time incidents don’t qualify for pun-based bullying!”
Patton’s muffled laughter got quieter as he shifted to lay vertically, scooting forwards until his chest was scraping the sand and his arm could extend to set Logan gently against the beach incline. Logan’s head lolled to the side, but he seemed unlikely to go anywhere, and was in plain sight of anyone passing by.
Roman glanced down at the tiny mer, who was staring over the waves at the human, finally looking a little less stiff and stressed.
Patton wiggled back until he could tread water upright again, sharing a little cheer with Roman at a successful quest. Their guest’s tension returned immediately, that little shadowed gaze snapping back onto them.
Roman and Patton exchanged a glance, uncertain of how to proceed, but before anyone could speak, they heard a small, hacking cough.
Logan was awake, just a little too late for him or Patton to say goodbye. He probably wouldn’t have understood, but it would have been nice anyhow. Roman watched as he rolled to something resembling upright, his limbs trembling weakly. He was looking back and forth, not just noticing the new decor, but searching.
Roman glanced down to the small mer, who had set his shoulders and continued looking firmly away from the beach. He sunk a little lower in the water, trying to make eye contact. “Would you like to go and say goodbye before he leaves? Or, tell him what’s going on, perhaps?”
He shook his head once, sharply, and Roman felt a little pang of sympathy at the way his ear fins kept angling back at every noise the human made.
Logan was calling out now, the same word repeated at increasing levels of urgency. “Virgil?”
The mer still refused to glance back. “I’m not breaking the deal. You upheld your half, and you’re going to keep upholding it, and I’ll uphold mine. I’m not going anywhere.”
He’d drifted closer to Roman as he spoke, but it didn’t feel like any sort of progress. He’d tucked all those extra flares and frills away, smoothing himself down as though he was calm— or resigned.
Roman glanced up at the beach, where Logan still called. As he listened, that little voice cracked midword, desperation slowly turning to despair. He moved to cup his hand underneath the little mer, his heartstrings pulling at the way he let out a slow, shaky breath and closed his eyes, even as Roman lifted him up from the ocean entirely.
Patton opened his mouth as if to speak, but Roman met his eyes and shook his head, promising with his gaze alone that he knew what he was doing. His friend glanced down at the little guy worriedly, but held his tongue.
With one strong push, Roman slid up to the beach’s edge, grimacing slightly as the water became shallower and shallower. His arms were longer than Patton’s, though, and so he had little trouble reaching over and depositing his handful of seawater & tiny mermaid directly next to Logan.
“Virgil!” the human said, relieved, and he reached out to latch onto the mer, confirming Roman’s name suspicions.
‘Virgil’ had yelped like a baby seal upon being upended onto the beach, and he was now blinking between Roman and Logan with an air of extreme bewilderment.
“Virgil,” Logan said again, now in a very different tone. He wore a tiny, furious expression as he launched into what sounded like a somewhat-feverish lecture. He also reached over and pulled the mer into a hug, confirming Roman’s ‘he had no idea Virgil was going to pull this’ suspicions.
Roman was so right about so many things today. Everyone should listen to him all the time!
He wriggled back a little, intending to give them some privacy to talk, and made absolutely no progress. Uh oh. He glanced down at the others.
“I am just a little bit, slightly, somewhat, completely beached again,” he told them, his face growing hot. “I hope you two appreciate that I did this even though Patton is absolutely never going to let me live this down.”
“Need me to reel you back in, kiddo?” Patton called, right on cue. Roman sighed, planting his face in the crook of his elbow for a moment.
“Just a moment,” he called, and then met Virgil’s wide eyes from over Logan’s shoulder. “It seems like there’s still much for you both to discuss, my undersized acquaintances. We shouldn’t stay so close to land for long, but I imagine you’ll feel better if you keep him company until someone comes for him, right?”
Logan’s brief spark of energy seemed to be flagging, but every time Virgil attempted to disengage from the hug, he clung on tighter. After a brief moment of hesitation, Virgil conceded to the clinginess and simply nodded at Roman, still half-braced for something awful.
Roman gave him his most reassuring smile. “Then that’s what you’ll do. You know where to find me or Patton, if you need us!”
“Really?” Virgil asked, hands fisting in the back of Logan’s shirt. “You’ll let me-- you’ll leave us alone? Just like that?”
Roman nodded, lips twisted in sympathy. “Just like that.”
Virgil’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, fins flattened against the sides of his head-- and then he took a deep breath, loosened his grip just slightly, and nodded back.
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dazaisfavoritewife · 3 years
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Bnha as siblings
They figure out your crush pt.2
Heyooo so uhm, same deal againnn homophobia is being blocked✨
Female
Ochaco Uraraka sister
“Deku?” You whispered, causing him to jump out of his skin. “You scared me Uraraka-San..” he mumbled, trying to calm his racing heart. “Sorry.. I just need to talk to you.” You said, rubbing the back of your head. “What’s up?” He asked, coming completely around the corner. “I came to ask some questions about Todoroki-kun.” You said, crossing your arms and flushing slightly. “Okay.. What do you want to know?” He asked, as you leaned on the wall. “What’s his favorite place to go..? Y’know, for soba..? Cold..?” You asked, fidgeting slightly. “I don’t really think he cares, he just likes Soba in general.” He replied, then began rambling. “Midoriya, Iida is still waiting for us to meet him for- oh, hello Uraraka.” He said, smiling slightly at you. You blushed, hiding your face. “Hi Todoroki! Bye Todoroki!” You said, leaving quickly. Todoroki frowned. “Does she not like me..?” He muttered to Deku, looking quite disheartened. Deku looked like he just found out the meaning of life, nodding. “Oh..” Todoroki whispered, making Midoriya start to panic. “No! That’s not what I mean, I just- uh- no, she likes you!” He sputtered, waving his arms around.
“Jeez, I messed up..” you whispered to yourself, walking up to Ochaco. “Hey Y/n! What’s wrong..?” She asked, noticing how flustered you looked. “I’m just gonna tell it to ya straight.. I like Todoroki..” you said, crossing your arms. “I know.” She said, walking with you out of the gate. “You made it pretty obvious.” She said, causing you to nod. “You’re pretty obvious about liking Deku.” You said, uncrossing your arms. “I-I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about..” she stuttered, flushing. “Yeah, everyone knows, even Eri knows, Deku’s oblivious.” You said, smiling slightly.
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Mina Ashido brother
“Ice cream!” “Ice cream!” You and your sister chanted, following Bakugou around the dorm. “OH MY GOD SHUT UP!” Bakugou yelled, creating explosions in his hands and turning around to glare at you two. Glancing at each other, you both deadpanned. “No” You said at the same time. “NO!? THE HELL YOU MEAN NO!!” He yelled, before Jirou and Uraraka walked into the room. “The class wanted to know if you guys wanted to play truth or dare with us!” Uraraka excitedly cheered, causing Mina to gasp, clapping her hands and grabbing Jirou and Uraraka’s. “Why didn’t you tell me in the first place!” She whined, their voices fading as they walked away. “So uhm..” you mumbled, shuffling nervously. “You wanna play?” You asked, turning towards him. He shrugged, dragging you by your collar towards the common room. “I’ll take that as a yes-!” You got cut off by him jerking your collar, causing you to whine slightly.
After a few lame truths and dares, it was your turn. “Y/n! Truth or dare?” Mina asked, which made you smirk and sigh in relief. “Finally! Alright, dare!” You said, excitement beyond belief from the boring dares everyone else had to do. “I dare you to…” she started, pausing to think. “Kiss your crush!” She finished, pointing at you. “What are we in, kindergarten?!” Bakugou shouted, growing a tick mark. You shrugged. “Dare’s a dare” you said, tugging Bakugou into a kiss. Everyone gasped, as you felt Bakugou’s racing heart under your hand. You pulled away, panting slightly. “God damn!” Mina exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. “Who would’ve thot!!” She exclaimed again, the rest of the class looking just as shocked. You sat back down, as Bakugou looked awestruck. “Is it m-“ Bakugou snatched you into another kiss, looking slightly irritated. The kiss was hungry, like this wasn’t a ‘game’ anymore. “You can’t just slip that past me, dumbass..” he growled, as you chuckled nervously. “I’m in danger!” You said, Bakugou swinging you over his shoulder. “Get it bro! Use protection!” Your sister said, waving, as did everyone else while laughing hysterically.
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Tsuyu Asui sister
“Tsu!” You exclaimed, opening your bedroom door. She’d just come home from the training camp, and you, along with your brother and sister, were ecstatic. “C’mon Satsuki, you’re too slow..!” You complained, dragging both of them with you. She whined, going faster than before. You dragged them down the stairs and to the living room where your dad was prodding at her, mostly on why she was hurt. You all ambushed her with hugs, saying how much you missed her. “I missed you too! Kero” she snickered, smiling brightly. (She already knows your crush so have this🐥)
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Kyoka Jirou brother
You were taking a walk while listening to the after school E.P, currently on test me…
👀 anyways, you weren’t paying attention since you were too into humming the tune instead of what the goal at hand was, which was keeping your feet moving in a safe manner and avoiding obstacles. “So I beg to be tested by goddesses resting their heads upon pillows..” you quietly sang, bobbing your head slightly. “Of all they have learned ‘Cause I’m mortal..” you finished, a skip in your step. “I like that song..” you heard faintly, before jolting, turning around to deck them square in the face. “Oh! Shit- sorry Midoriya..!” You exclaimed, as he held his nose. “It’s okay..” he hissed, you taking his hand away, causing him to flinch. “Sorry.. Sorry..” you repeated, wiping his nose on your sleeve. He chuckled nervously. “It’s fine, I shouldn’t have spoken so randomly.” He said, grinning at you. “You’re right.. I should’ve went for the pepper spray.” You mumbled, nodding. “P-pepper spray..?” He stuttered, as you shrugged. “Dad wants me to be protected since he says there weirdos out here, also the attacks on 1-A.” You explained, opening your bag with all of your protective gear. “I see…” he mumbled, jumping when you abruptly slammed it shut. “Can I buy you some Katsudon? Courtesy for fuckin up your nose.” You offered, already beginning to walk again. “I-I can’t let you pay-“ He started, before you cut him off. “I said I would, so I am. You said, as he sighed, walking behind you.
“You owe me” Denki whispered. Jirou scoffed, handing him 2,213 Yen(basically 20 dollars). “Thank youuu..” he muttered, smirking triumphantly. “Just c’mon, we gotta keep up if we’re gonna spy” Kyoka said, sneaking behind you two.
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Momo Yaoyorozu brother
Katsuki Bakugou🕺 gotta love this man bro, he already knew your sexuality cause he’s gay asf, so, gay + gay = you’re dating bae😚 Mk , you aren’t necessarily dating.. But you love each other, and the girls know it so.. Yeah. That.
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Nemuri Kayama brother
“Hey! Kayama!” Akari called, grabbing your hand. “What’s up, Tsukumo-senpai?” You asked, turning around to greet him. “Meet my friend, Asui Samidare.” He introduced, gesturing to a shy boy with dark green hair. “Hi Asui-San! It’s nice to meet you, I’m Y/N Kayama.” You said, reaching your hand out for a handshake. He shook your hand. “Nice to meet you too.. Kero” he mumbled, causing you to smile at him reassuringly. “Are you the nice girl’s little brother?” You asked, beginning to walk. “Tsu?” He asked, glancing at you. “Yeah-huh. She’s my sisters student.” You replied, nodding. You guys began talking about kindergarten ‘drama’. After a few minutes, the bell rang, which startled you slightly. You giggled, getting up, and walking back to your classrooms to get ready to go home. “Hey, Kayama, my dad wanted me to ask if I can come over after school.” Akari said, walking over to you. You flushed, hiding your face in your backpack, grabbing your stuffy. “I-I don’t think Nemuri would m-mind..” you stuttered, as he smiled brightly at you. “Thanks, Y/n! I think I should still ask your sister though.” He said, grabbing his own backpack. “C’mon Asui-San, let’s go..” you muttered, walking out the door behind Akari. Once you got outside, Asui and his sisters immediately advanced towards their older sister who was waiting outside of the school. He waved at you two, before disappearing behind the corner. “Y/n!” Your sister called, and beckoned you over. You grabbed Akari’s hand, walking towards your sister. “Nemuri-nee, Akari’s dad was wondering if he could come home with me after school.” You said, grabbing her hand. “I don’t mind, ‘long as he doesn’t make a mess.” She said, shrugging. “I told you” you said, as he stuck his tongue out at you. You returned the gesture, your sister snickering, as you finally got to the car.
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Himiko Toga brother
“Himikooo~! Let’s go get you some more blood!” You cheered, as she popped from behind the wall. “God damn it.. Two crazies today of all days..?” Dabi groaned, gulping down his whiskey. “Sorry honey, you’re gonna have to sit this one out.” You said, sitting on the counter next to him. “Can I have a hug?” You asked, as he sighed. He opened his arms, you going in for the hug. You stuck your needle in his arm to take some blood. “God dammit!” He hissed, as you began laughing hysterically along with your sister. “I still love you!” You exclaimed, rushing out the door with your sister. (These are kinda shorter since they already know your crush soo..)
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Rumi Usagiyama brother
“Rumi-nee?” You called, creaking the door open slightly. “Hm?” She hummed, peaking out of her closet. “Wait what are you doing?” You asked, running towards her. “Hey! No running in the house, you know the rules..” she said, fading as she went back into her closet. “I’m taking the stuff I think my girlfriend would like.” She said, throwing a few shirts and dresses on the bed. “Can I help?” You asked, jumping onto her bed.. Quite literally. “Sure. What do you think would look better on me?” She asked, sitting next to you. “I don’t know, you’re always pretty.” “Awww~ cotton tail!” “Except for when you’re waking up in the morning. You’re scary” you mumbled, as she deadpanned. “Just.. Tell me what I should wear..” she grumbled, walking to the bathroom. You dug through the things she threw on the bed, and found a white dress. “I found it Rumi!” You exclaimed, running into the bathroom. “Ooo that’s nice, cotton tail!” She complimented, taking the dress and hanging it up on the door. “Full makeup or no?” She asked, obviously grabbing mascara. “Nuh uh, you’re already pretty.” You said, jumping onto the counter and swinging your legs. “Thanks buddy.. Alright, hair straight or curled?” She asked, grabbing a curling iron. You shook your head, and she nodded, taking a quick shower and doing her makeup. “Oki doki, hawks is gonna be here soon, so behave, Kay?” She said, finishing her lipstick. You nodded, hopping off the counter, and heading to your room. “Hey, fancy pants! Get all spruced up for me?” You heard hawks faintly down the hall. “AH SHIT- why didn’t you just knock on the door!” She asked, as you heard hawks hiss, whimpering slightly. “Owww ow ow..” he whined, as you heard them walking closer to your room. “Y/n is in there, sorry for punching you..” she muttered. “It’s okay, I should’ve knocked..” he mumbled, sounding slightly nasally. You assumed she was pinching his nose like when you got nose bleeds. You silently hopped off the bed, opening your door. “Are you okay?” You asked, hawks screeching slightly as some feathers flew off. “He’s okay, Y/n. He’s just got a nose bleed” she said, going into the bathroom to get some toilet paper. “Pinch your nose until it stops bleeding, now I gotta go, bye, love you!” She rushed, grabbing a jacket and her keys. “Bye, love you!” You yelled back, rushing down the stairs to give her a quick hug. “Bye Hawks!” She said, closing the door. You stared at it for a while, before hopping onto the couch. “Excuse me, do you want to watch My Little Pony with me? You asked, as hawks came down the stares. He nodded, you clicking on YouTube. He tilted his head since he knew you had Netflix, but shrugged, sitting down next to you. “Can you type in pinkie pie cupcakes?” You asked, smiling innocently at him. He nodded, grinning at you, before grabbing the remote and typing it in. You clicked the first video you saw, waiting for it to start. “Why does it sound so ominous..?” He asked, looking slightly unnerved. “Don’t worry, it’s funny.” You said, smiling reassuringly at him.
“Hey Cottontail! How was your day?” Rumi asked, walking through the door, to you playing with pinkie pie. “It was good! Hawks watched My Little Pony with me.” You said, as Hawks peaked from upstairs. “Thank GOD you’re home! This kid is terrifying..!” He cried, trying to avoid you in every way possible. “Uh- I didn’t pay you yet..?” “I don’t care! Bye!!” He yelled, slamming the door. “What happened?” She asked, turning to you. You shrugged, picking up your rainbow dash pony up the stairs. “Hawks got scared of the dragon I think.” You lied, throwing rainbow dash down the stairs. She shrugged, going to sit on the stairs with you. “I like Hawks, he’s cool.” You said, flushing slightly. “Gosh darn it.. Are you adding to your husband’s list..?” She whined, sighing soon after, and kicking off her heels. She groaned in relief. “Jesus those things are death traps..!” She complained, as you shrugged. “I like playing with heels.” You said, getting up to put your toys away. “Well, be careful next time you do, they’re slippery sometimes.” She said, getting up and grabbing her heels, taking them to her room and kicking the door closed.
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Nejire Hado brother
I mean.. You said who you liked when you came out so.. Don’t know what to do🤷🏾‍♀️
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Emi Fukukado brother
“I mean.. Why Erasure? He’s mine!” Emi whined, hanging upside down off the bed. “Because he has a fat ass.” You shrugged, flicking her feet off the bed. “That’s true.. But that hurt!” She whined, rubbing her head. “Get out of my room, Emi” you scoffed, as she shot up. “I don’t wannaaa! I’m not done ranting!” She whined, jumping back on your bed. “Go rant over text..” you mumbled. “But you’re my only brother! And aren’t you supposed to be doing homework anyways?” She accused, leaning on her hand. “Y’know, from a teacher’s standpoint, homework is honestly pointless.” She shrugged, as you nodded. “Right, we already did it at school, lay us some slack..” you mumbled, her finally standing up fully. “Alrighty, I’m off to rant over text as you told me. See ya!” She exclaimed, slamming your door. You shrugged, laying back down to text Shindo.
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gh00sth00st · 3 years
Text
The Train That Keeps Hitting You Pt 4 Starjack
Did some damage on that CCC twin fic, but had to go searching for a part I’d written elsewhere. Stupid things long as hell, guess it just craves being a giant ass fic. Found this piece while looking. Finished the night by adding the few things it needed to get it up and out! Its uh, very much unedited lol. 
I can tell that something's wrong but I guess it's just my life and I can take it if I wanna But I cannot hide in hills of California Because these hills have eyes, and I got paranoia
I Think I’m Okay--Machine Gun Kelly, Yungblud, & Travis Barker
War didn’t leave anyone unscarred.
Wheeljack handled his baggage better than most--but that didn’t mean it didn’t lurk in the back of his mind, doubts and worries hissing like demons in his audios. 
He wasn’t the kind to show it. Why would he? He didn’t exactly have a lot of people who would notice, let alone care. His pain was good for maybe one free drink at Blurr’s, something given only because he was an Autobot (but mostly because he worked in close proximity to Starscream.) No one would follow up with him. No one would dig deep into any of his problems.
If he said his problem was Starscream well…
The people willing to lend their audios only wanted dirt and drama. Once it became apparent that Wheeljack was worried about the seeker, all he’d get would be rolled optics and disgust.
“Your fault for trusting him in the first place.” He imagined some unnamed Autobot might say, sneer painted across their face. “You knew what you were getting into.” 
And he had, really. 
Starscream himself had warned him, right at the start. 
This was no one's fault but Wheeljack’s.
He stared at the acidic rain out the window, the first fall of it anyone had seen since Cybertron had been reclaimed. Currently half the government was trying to figure out if it’s appearance was a warning sign--Wheeljack included.
Or rather, he was supposed to be studying it, anyway. 
 The glass windows were sturdy, unharmed as they were coated in a mixture of the scientist’s own design. All of the rebuilt buildings were covered in the same chemicals, meaning the rain wouldn’t cause the panic as it once would have called for. Or at least, wouldn’t the majority of mechs on Cybertron. 
‘Was it wrong to want things to go right for once?’ Wheeljack thought, hating the worry that clawed at his tank. His focus was shot, anxiety overtaking him entirely. He was good about this, or rather,  he was usually good at this.  Handling issues, not taking things personally. 
The difference always came when he was romantically involved and well, Ratchet had said it best.
Communication is the key to all relationships.
Of course Ratchet himself had stopped communicating, making that piece of advice more than a little hypocritical. 
So far they had avoided this part of Wheeljack’s own issues, the ones he did his best to hide. Starscream was the leader of Cybertron and as such he was an easy mech to track down. His schedule had been shared with Wheeljack long before they had been involved and when it came to daily communication the seeker had a habit of spending any evening apart sending short bursts of text, usually full of complaints and various vain statements.
Two weeks ago he had gone off world, to visit one of the colony’s.
Three days ago he’d fallen out of contact entirely.
Neither he nor his security team could be raised, which wasn’t what had bothered Wheeljack. No what had done it was when the seeker had blatantly returned, Windblade, Chromia and Rattrap in tow, and had ignored all of Wheeljack’s messages since.
“Boss is busy.” Rattrap had told him, smug smirk on his face when Wheeljack broke down and went to go see him. “He’ll hit you up if he needs you.” 
A part of Wheeljack had entertained punting the aft across the hall and passing him anyway, but somehow managed to refrain.
Starscream was probably just busy, he’d told himself. He’d come to him later.
“He’s not avoiding me.” Windblade said with a distracted shrug, her mind blatantly on whatever information she’d gleaned on their trip. “We didn’t have any problems on the trip either. He’s probably just being himself.” 
She’d been too distracted to really answer any other questions beyond a few hummed notes and Wheeljack had taken the hint and left her to her work. 
Which left him sending messages to Starscream.
First asking how his trip went. Then a joke. 
Asking him if he wanted to get a drink.
A picture.
A meme.
Then asking if he was okay.
Days were going by, each one drenching the scientist in anxiety until he’d finally broke down today  and taken to sipping high grade just to make the worry stop.
Of course, that was the day Starscream sauntered into his lab.
The seekers field was held close to him, his face holding its usual smugness, as he strode directly up next to the scientist and peered down at the samples laid out on the table before him.
“Oh good you’re already on the acid rain issue.” He said, as if nothing had happened.
As if everything was normal.
Two paths split before Wheeljack, a countdown starting in his head. 
He could either clear his vocalizer, pull his field in tight and act like everything was normal. Like Starscream hadn’t ignored him for what appeared to be no reason at all, sending him spiraling into a pit of worry and frustration that echoed all the other times a partner of his had done this exact behavior, swearing everything was fine only to leave him later.
Or he could call him out on it. Steel himself for a conversation that could easily blow up into an argument, particularly considering it was Starscream who Wheeljack wanted answers from. 
Lord of Cybertron, the former Decepticon Second in Command, a mech famous for dodging any kind of personal questions and committing fully to all sorts of mental and emotional manipulations. 
It challenged, he more than likely would end their relationship.
Wheeljack didn’t want the relationship to end. 
He couldn’t survive another repeat of last week, either.
“What’s wrong.” Starscream said, not a question but a command. He’d moved closer, his optics narrowed as it examined Wheeljack’s face.
The needle flipped frantically in his brain, choosing which path he should take, knowing time was running out. 
The scientist opened his mouth to say it was nothing, he was just lost in thought, but found his vocalizer had frozen. 
The seconds ticked on, the fact something was wrong going more obvious. 
The countdown ran out. Hit zero.
Starscream’s field invaded his personal privacy to flex against his.
“Wheeljack.” He said, and was the soft note in his voice a figment of Wheeljack’s imagination? 
His processor spiraled to all the times he’d had this conversation before. How no matter which way it went, good or bad, it always was the start of the end. 
Maybe he could still salvage this, instead of standing there looking like an idiot!
“You’re upset with me.” Starscream determined, because that’s what he did. Read people and their moods. Establish who was a threat, and who could be used. 
Wheeljack knew where he stood on that scale. 
“You fell out of contact.” The words fell out of Wheeljack’s mouth without his permission. He regretted them immediately, wishing he could suck them back in.
Too late now. 
He got an automatic raised browridge, as Starscream leaned a hip against the table, still stupidly close.  
“You didn’t answer my texts or comms. Rattrap said you were busy and wouldn’t let me in.” Had sent him away, but that part was unspoken. 
For once, the seeker said nothing. 
Simply stared.
Wheeljack should stop there. He knew he should, that no matter how uncomfortable this was that this part could still be brushed off, this relationship still salvaged if he just spun it the right way--but he didn’t. His mouth barreled ahead, his words coming out raw, vulnerable.
Unmistakably open. 
“I know what we are. I know I shouldn’t care. But I do.” His voice seemed to press forward with his field, as though the weight of them both could convey how desperately he needed them to pretend they were a normal couple, that those feelings Starscream had in his field, the times when the seeker had gone soft around him, were real. “I was worried.” 
He wanted to believe the fantasy a little bit longer.
“I can’t--I won’t go through that again, Starscream.” And there it was, all on the table. He’d finally drawn a boundary, revealed a weakness of his own. 
He expected the seeker to end things here, now that he’d proved to be a problem. 
Instead Starscream’s arm came up, a hand reaching out and catching Wheeljack’s chin, so the mustang couldn’t look away. 
“I got caught up in a few projects.” He said quietly, running his fingers over Wheeljack’s cheek. “I didn’t mean to ignore you.” 
“Next time send me a message saying that then, yeah?” Wheeljack said instantly, trying to smile, trying to act like this wasn’t a big deal, and finding his tone didn’t match his face at all.
Because really, how hard was a fragging message?
Starscream’s optics searched him, though Wheeljack couldn’t guess as to what he saw. “I will notify you next time.” He said, quietly serious in a way Wheeljack hadn’t seen from him before.. “I promise.”
If the scientist didn’t know better, he’d say it was sincere.
Honest, even. 
“Come to bed with me.” Starscream said, voice slinging low, crooning. 
Relief washed through Wheeljack anyways. This wasn’t an apology--Wheeljack doubted Starscream could apologize in the tone he was using now. He stepped forward anyway, met Starscream’s lips in a kiss.
He’d get to keep this up for a little while longer. 
Starcream was lying of course--Wheeljack knew it. Why wouldn’t he? He was telling Wheeljack exactly what he wanted to hear and the scientist wasn’t even pushing him on it. Just took him at face value, as if the mech’s history didn’t terrify the mustang on the nights when he admitted how hard he’d fallen. 
This voices hissed in the back of his head, cataloging the conversation, comparing it to all the other broken promises his ex’s had given him. Why would Starscream, who had the least trustworthy reputation of them all, follow through?
Worse, why bother keeping Wheelhjack around at all? 
‘Look for what he actually needs you for.’ The voices whispered, hauntingly. ‘If you’re not a burden, if you don’t make a big deal out of this, maybe he’ll keep you around a little bit longer.’ 
Maybe he did love him, to an extent. 
But people fell in and out of love easily, and their kind lived long, long lives. 
Outwardly Starscream deepened the kiss, field saying the things he couldn’t, the deeper feelings people swore he wasn’t capable of. 
In his head, Wheeljack prepared for the end. 
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danadeservesadrink · 4 years
Text
Do You Believe in Fate Chapter 8
Hope You Didn’t Have Any Big Friday Plans
In which Scully learns of motherhood. Read on AO3 here
Tagging @today-in-fic
“Dana Scully speaking”
“Hope you didn’t have any big Friday plans”
“Why? Missy what’s wrong?”
“Well there was a bit of an accident at lunch today…”
“Melissa you tell me what’s wrong right now.”
“Mom’s in the hospital. She tripped down the stairs, fractured her leg”
“I’ll be right there”
“I didn’t even tell you which hospital!”
“Georgetown?”
“Yes. The emergency center. Room 305.”
“I’m already in the car.”
Scully rushed into the hospital, hurrying past doctors and nurses alike until she got to the emergency ward. A receptionist questioned her but must have seen the panicked look on Scully’s face before showing her on to room 305 at her insistence, where she walked in to find her mother laying propped up on a hospital bed, leg already casted.
“Jesus Mom what happened?” Scully asked, immediately fussing over her despite Maggie’s attempts to wave her daughter away. Scully made a mental note to ask for her chart later.
“It’s nothing dear, I’ll be fine. I tripped on my way downstairs, fell down a whole flight…”
“Did they check you for other fractures? Do you have a concussion?”
“Yes Dana, they checked everything. Apart from some minor bruising the only thing wrong is my leg.” Scully went to interrupt her again, but Maggie shot her a glare that silenced her. “I’ll have the doctor give you a copy of my x-rays but honestly there’s nothing you can do sweetheart. The doctor is very nice, and seemed quite competent.”
Scully seemed to relax, choosing to walk around the side of the hospital bed and sit in the vacant chair beside it, still critically eyeing the cast on her mother's leg.
“I’m sorry. I’m glad you’re ok.”
She reached out and grabbed her mother’s hand, who held it with a squeeze by her side. She looked around the room and only then noticed the absence of her sister.
“Where’s Missy?”
Maggie, sighed and dropped Scully’s hand.
“That's what I needed to talk to you about…”, she pressed her hand to the bridge of her nose, clearly thinking heavily on her next words. “Melissa took Emily home for her nap. And with me going to be out of commission for at least the next few months, were going to have to discuss who will be taking care of Emily.”
And the realization dawned on her that Scully had been so preoccupied with her mother and sister, she had completely forgotten about the whereabouts of her own fucking daughter.
“Oh. Can Melissa watch her…” she knew the answer before the question had even finished coming out of her mouth.
“Dana, your sister has her own life, her own job. She cannot just drop everything to look after your daughter.” She wasn’t shocked by the words, but by the frustrated tone with which her mother scolded her.
“Mom…” Scully felt her cheeks flush with shame. Maggie carried on, staring sternly at her daughter in the chair.
“You do remember that she is your daughter, right?”
Despite her mother being the one in the hospital bed, Scully felt like the one receiving surgery. She attempted to choke out a response but found her voice wasn’t working properly, she simply sputtered at her mother’s sudden accusation. Maggie’s eyes softened, but her voice remained firm.
“Dana no one knows more than me how much you’ve been through. And you know I will support you in any way I can but she’s your daughter. She’s your daughter and you’re going to have to get to know her some day.”
Scully stared at the linoleum floor tiles, her eyes mapping the grey outlines of the squares one by one in an attempt to stop the tears she felt forming. She could feel her mother’s gaze burning into her cheek.
“I don’t know how.” Her voice cracks as she speaks, and she hears Maggie sigh, but still can’t bear to look at her. “I don’t know how to be a mother to her. I’m scared I won’t do it right.” A rogue tear slips down her cheek. “She doesn’t even like me.”
Her mother grabs her hand again, and Scully can only see her concerned look out of the corner of her eye.
“Baby, none of us know. You don’t go into motherhood knowing exactly what to do, you just try. If you try your best, that will be good enough for her.”
Scully was still staring forward, so Maggie gave a gentle tug on her hand to get her attention. She looked up, the figure of her mother blurry through a haze of tears. Maggie leaned into her despite her restricted leg.  
“When Bill came along he didn’t like me much either. Cried every time I picked him up. He refused to eat, refused to nap”.
Scully had to laugh. Of course Bill was difficult, even as an infant.
“But I kept trying. I kept holding him, feeding him. And one day, he just stopped crying. I held him in my arms and he looked up at me with his little eyes and smiled. And I knew I had to have done something right. You kids all turned out ok, anyway.”
Scully smiled up at her, giving her hand a gentle squeeze back.
“Yea Mom, you did alright.” Both women laughed, and finally the tension was released.
“You have to give yourself a chance Dana. Give yourself a chance to be a good mom.”
-
Why was it that staring into the face of her own daughter made her feel so nervous? It wasn’t like she was scared of a baby. Or was she?  
Emily was sitting in her play-chair station, bouncing happily and spinning a little plastic ring. Scully sat with her hand propped up on her hand at the kitchen table watching her. She’d been stuck there for at least 10 minutes, just watching the child bounce and play, unable to interact with her but refusing to walk away to safety. Her child. Her mother was upstairs in bed, she’d put her there herself, insisting she needed rest. Melissa left to go back to her apartment, and she was now alone in the kitchen with a one year old, who she was quickly realizing she was more terrified by than any person she had ever known.
Dana pull yourself together. She’s just a baby.
“She’s your baby”, she whispered to herself, partially as reassurance and partially as a reminder.
When she first got back, after the shock of it all had worn off, when she had rational thoughts running through her head again, she ordered a DNA test for Emily. She didn’t tell her mother, or even Missy. She gets it done through a friend at the hospital, and she handed her back the results in an unmarked folder over private coffee. A manila folder holding a potential explanation of what had happened to her and it had taken her almost 2 weeks to open it. She was torn between wanting desperately for the truth and being terrified of it. Of course, she had thought through the possibilities before hand, being the logical person she was.
Option 1) She was already pregnant when she got abducted. It wasn’t out of the realm of extreme possibility. She had been seeing someone occasionally, the time-frame matched up, and though they had been careful, she knew the percentages. It was unlikely she hadn’t shown any symptoms, but again, she had read of instances where women hadn’t shown pregnancy symptoms until late third trimester. Altogether unlikely but not improbable.
Option 2) Emily was someone else’s daughter. This is what she had rationalized as the most likely answer, given her lack of pregnancy symptoms. The FBI suggested that other women may have been abducted by the same man. She may have stolen the child away during her escape and simply lost the memory. And when she held her, when her mother placed her in her arms and introduced Emily to her as her daughter, she had felt a startling lack of maternal feelings. Usually mothers who reconnect with their children document immediate connection, feelings of easy recognition, familiarity. She could have been holding a lively loaf of bread wrapped in a blanket for all the connection she felt to the little bundle of joy placed in her arms. No, Scully had convinced herself quite quickly that she was in possession of someone else's offspring. But that was before Emily sprouted little red curls from the top of her head. Before her mother pulled out a baby picture of little Dana and even she herself had to admit the resemblance was uncanny.
She opened the envelope at the kitchen table at midnight after she padded downstairs, long after her mother had gone to bed. She’d had another nightmare. Tests, needles, bright lights, the usual vague images plaguing her mind and dampening her brow with sweat. But that night, for the first time, she dreamed of her. Dreamed of the cry of an infant through the blinding lights, and felt her heart lurch at the sound. She woke with a scream just short of her lips, so scared not only for her, but for the child. It was then that she realized. She needed to know.
It was a flip of a coin, option 1 versus 2, neither one a best or worst case scenario. But she miscalculated. With some sick twist of the universe, the coin managed to land perfectly on its side and the rational Dr. Scully was presented with the previously unknown option 3.
She was hers, oh yes, that was undeniable. 46 chromosomes of Scully, in fact. She read the report 3 times, looking for the tiny differences to indicate the presence of two distinct genotypes combining to form one unique human, the way she was taught even back in her undergraduate classes. The natural order of things. The only viable way. She found no differences.
Emily was genetically identical to her, a perfect clonal match, down to the individual base pairs in her DNA.
Option 3 provided little answers and generated so many questions. So many questions even the well educated mind of Dr. Dana Scully couldn’t comprehend. The only solace was that when her mother asked her over tea at the dining table about the ever-so-sensitive subject of maternity, she didn’t have to lie.
Of course, that only spurred her mother on more. She kept subtly leaving the baby with her, asking her to hold it while she prepared a bottle or ran to the garden. It was obvious what she was trying to do, although Scully was obstinate to her intentions. To be honest, the idea of a daughter wasn’t what frightened her. She had always seen herself as a mother one day. She used to play dolls with Missy and Charlie when they were little, and she had fond memories of rocking little plastic dolls to sleep, pressing bottles to their unmoving lips and bossing her little brother around the playhouse insisting that she was too busy with the baby to take care of the chores. She worked with kids at the hospital, mostly got along quite well with them actually. She would have been happy to have a daughter of her own.
But Emily wailed every time Maggie dropped her into Scully’s awaiting arms. She screamed her lungs off for the first few months of her life every time Scully was even in the room. While Scully previously saw the merit of her mother’s actions, it slowly turned into a torture for both of them. So much so that Maggie stopped trying all together. After months of stubborn fits from both Scully girls, Maggie found it best to simply keep Emily in her own arms.
Until now.
She cursed the stairs, cursed her mother’s socks and their hardwood floors, cursed God, who was probably looking down at her and laughing. She cursed herself, a pathetic mother, scared of her own child.
Emily stopped spinning the little plastic rings. She grabbed at a stuffed duck, tattered and stained, perched on the side of the activity seat, babbling happily to herself. The duck managed to elude her little grasp however, and instead fell to the floor.
Immediately, Emily’s eyes welled with tears, and she banged her fists against the plastic surroundings of her seat, bouncing up and down and shaking the entire structure. The screaming started shortly afterwards.
Scully’s eyes widened as well, and she sprung out of her chair, dropping to her knees in front of Emily and grabbing the duck. She placed it in front of the wailing toddler, still bouncing and shaking in her seat.
“Look, here’s Ducky. Ducky’s here.” She shook the toy in her line of site, willing Emily to calm down, if only for the sake of her sleeping mother. Emily opened her eyes and saw the toy in front of her, suddenly ceasing her tantrum. She sniffled and took the doll from Scully, grabbing it rather aggressively by the neck. Scully laughed, despite her trepidation, as the duck was strangled by the fists of a toddler.
Emily looked up at her then, little blue eyes wide, satisfied by the presence of Ducky and intrigued by the giggle Scully let escape her lips. They were face to face, and Scully felt oddly self-conscious. She fixed the collar of her shirt as Emily regarded her. She didn’t cry, though her tantrum induced tears were still dewy on her cheeks.
Scully found herself bringing her hand up, slowly. It was shaking, in fact all of her was shaking, with nerves, emotion, whatever . She brought a hand up to Emily’s cheek and carefully brushed a wet droplet aside with her thumb.
Her skin is so smooth, she thought. She was scared the act of contact would cause the kid to burst into tears again, but still Emily simply returned back to looking at Ducky, who was arguably more interesting than Scully.
She likes the duck more than you. It was a ridiculous thought that caused her to chuckle again. Immediately, Emily’s eyes were back on hers. This time, she pursed her tiny lips, as if in deep thought. She looked down at the duck in her hands, back up at Scully, and then suddenly thrust the yellow duck towards her.
“Ducky” Emily said, leaning again towards Scully and pushing the toy at her. Scully responded with only a baffled smile, which Emily then returned in full toddler exuberance. A gummy, wonderful toddler smile, and for the first time, Scully felt a little twinge in her chest as she looked at her.
She took the duck. Emily clapped her hands together, giggling her own twinkling laugh, like windchimes in a gentle breeze. She then turned and went back to spinning the little purple plastic rings, unbothered by the exchange she had just participated in.
Scully, however, looked as if she’d seen a ghost. Or witnessed a miracle. She held the cloth duck like scientific proof of the unexplainable event, unwilling to let it go, gazing down on it in awe before the tears from before resurfaced.
On the floor of her mother’s kitchen in the soft light of the evening, Scully cried over a cloth duck. She cried over the softness of baby skin, over chromosomes and unknowns, and over all the shit she’s been through. She sank down off her knees and sobbed an apology to the little girl in front of her. She felt her body shake as she sloughed off the moths of feeling like a stranger in her own home, avoiding the kitchen during feeding time and her mother’s disappointed smile. She pressed the duck to her face, feeling the soft fabric absorb the tears off her own cheek, and she inhaled the scent of her daughter.
When the tears had subsided, she looked up at Emily still preoccupied with the little plastic puzzles. She leaned in, clearing her throat, and danced the duck along the top of the seat. Emily’s eyes lit up, and quickly she grabbed at the duck, pulling it in close to her face and hugging it with all the ferocity of a child’s love. She looked up and smiled at Scully again, and the idea that it was all a fluke flew out of Scully’s mind.
Scully reached over and brushed a tiny red curl out of her baby’s eyes, again feeling awed by the softness of her skin against her fingertips.
“Hi Emily”, she whispered into the still air of the kitchen, and Emily smiled at the sound of her name, clutching Ducky closer to her chest.
“I’m your mom.”
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Coming, Coming Home Chapter 3 (Except it’s actually called Building Home now)
Hello fuckers so I impulsively changed the name of my big fic because I have Plans for the title coming home so now it’s called building home, but it’s still the same fic. Also here’s chapter 3 please read the warnings and if you spot any typos lmk because I wrote this late at night.
Also! The last chapter title was from i hope ur ok by noll! The POV for this chapter is White Lily, which makes it officially the first chapter from the POV of an original character, so I hope you enjoy!
Title: Building Home
Chapter Title: The day it was suddenly real
Chapter Wordcount: 3404
Chapter Summary:
Cherri Cola arrives home. Wounds are stitched, impulsive decisions are made, and no one is especially okay.
Warnings: Needles, blood, injury, fairly frank discussion of death and child death. (If you want to know what parts to skip, go to the end notes on AO3- I also put a brief summary of any important info in those parts. Stay safe!)
Taglist: @wishiwasthemoon-tonight @sleevesareforlosers @stressed-depressed-emo-mess @tasteofamnesia @dagger-queen​ @no-braincells-here @piratecherricola (message me, send an ask, or reblog/reply to one of my posts if you want to be added or removed)
AO3 Link
Chapter 1 AO3 Link
Chapter 1 Tumblr Post
Chapter 2 Tumblr Post
(Actual fic under the cut)
Lily looked up as Cherri stumbled into the house, pressing a hand to his side and wincing. She and D had gotten back a few minutes ago, finding their mission for the day discouraging and hopeless. D was off upstairs somewhere, she thought, and she was nursing a cup of ‘tea’, which was something more approximating warm water with a little bit of some sort of dried leaf they had found in the kitchen cabinets boiled in it. They were both pretty sure it was actually parsley, but Lily insisted it was ‘minty enough’. It wasn’t as if they had anything else for tea. She would have gotten something to eat as well, but they were mostly out and they would need enough left for dinner and tomorrow’s breakfast.
So, in short, it had been an incredibly shitty day and it was about to get even worse. Given that Cherri proceeded to pass out on their floor.
Lily swore under her breath and set down her cup, hurrying over to the younger killjoy. “Cherri?”
No reply. She crouched next to the other and gently turned him over, sucking in a sharp breath at how much blood covered his side. “Cherri! D, get down here! Quickly! And bring the med kit!”
D came hurrying in a few seconds later, grabbing the first aid kit off the wall as he did. “What’s going on, Lil- Cherri!”
Lily grabbed the kit from him and dug around for the disinfectant, swearing under her breath all the while. In her opinion, there were times that called for generous usage of the word fuck, and this was one of them.
“Cher, wake up,” Lily whispered as she cleaned the wound, trying futilely to wipe away the blood so she could see.
Cherri jerked under her hands, eyes blinking open. “D- Lil- you have to go.”
“Go where?” D asked gently. It was clear Cherri wasn’t going to let them help until he passed on whatever he was going to say, so Lily let D talk.
“Go- just. Just go somewhere. They know about the radio station- bli, they’re coming to hunt us down soon. They know Lil’s in Zone Four.”
D and Lily exchanged glances.
“Go pack our stuff,” Lily told him. “I’ll take care of Cher.”
D nodded to her and hurried upstairs as she threaded the needle with hands that shook more than she wanted to admit. “Okay, Cherri, I need you to be brave. This is going to hurt like a bitch.”
“Got it.” Cherri’s teeth were clenched. 
Lily started the first stitch, trying not to flinch as Cherri gave a tiny yelp of pain. “It’s going to be okay, only a few more stitches, okay?”
She got a tiny nod and another hiss of pain in response. Every pained noise cut at her heart, but she couldn’t let Cherri lose too much blood. Only the Phoenix Witch knew how much he had lost already. So Lily put in careful stitch after careful stitch, pausing to clean the needle occasionally.
“What happened, Cher?” 
“Went to- went to raid a supply truck.” He sucked in a breath as Lily tied off the next stitch. “Exterminator was altered by the clap. Found me and shot me.”
“How the hell did you get away?” D was returning from the upstairs with almost everything they owned neatly packed away, getting ready to pack up any stuff in the living room that they’d be able to take. 
“They-“ he winced. “They let me go. Threatened me, told me to tell you two that you wouldn’t win.”
Lily glanced at D again and found that the concern in his eyes mirrored her own. “Okay, you’re all sewed up, Cherri. Let’s go out to the van.”
Cherri tried to get up, but D pushed him down firmly. “Absolutely not, you’re barely even stitched up. I’ll carry you out.”
“Fine.” Cherri didn’t resist as D picked him up, following Lily outside. She watched to make sure everything went smoothly as they set him down on the small nest of blankets and other soft things Lily had thrown together, then headed to the front. By the time D had settled next to their youngest crew member, she was already in the drivers’ seat, getting ready to take them away from here. 
Lily thought she heard Cherri mutter something about ‘I’m not a child’, but he was curled up and fast asleep within minutes as she stepped on the gas. 
And meanwhile, Dr. Death Defying made his way back up to the front of the van carefully, sliding into shotgun. 
“Feels real now,” Lily said as her best friend settled next to her. She was still carefully steering them down the road, trying not to bump too much and wake up Cherri.
“We knew the consequences from the start.” D’s voice was businesslike, but Lily could hear the strain of worry behind it.
“We did. We’ve seen enough death to know it could happen to us.” She didn’t take her eyes off the road. “But it feels more real when it’s Cher who got hurt.”
“He’s so young,” D agreed. Their voice had softened and grown quieter.
“He is. God, I know he’s hardly younger than we were when we were shipped off to fight, but he’s still a child, D.”
“I know, Lil.”
“He’s so small. So young. And he’s got that way about him like there’s kindness behind the pain. Who put him in this war? Who let him be one of our little rebel soldiers? He should be….”
“Happy,” D finished for her. “Safe. Not going head-to-head with exterminators and helping run a radio station.”
“Exactly.” Her voice shook more than she would have liked. “Are we doing the right thing, D? Can we justify letting children fight a war we know we might not win?”
“I don’t know,” he said quietly. 
“It’s not like we can stop them from fighting, but sometimes I question if we should encourage them,” Lily went on. “So many of them are going to die, D.”
“That’s how war is. We know that.”
"We learned it well.” She knew her laugh was a little bit bitter. “It’s still not right, though.”
“No, it’s not. But we’re not fighting for nothing. There’s a future without Better Living, and we have to fight for that. Fight for it with everything we’ve got.”
Lily sighed. “I guess you’re right. I don’t like it, but we don’t have a choice now. Got ourselves into this mess, I guess we better get ourselves out of it.”
“That’s the spirit,” D said dryly.
“You think we should send Cher away?” It was an abrupt subject change, but that was what had been hovering in her mind as she and D debated morality. “He’s going to get hurt a lot by being with us.”
“He’s going to get hurt either way. He wasn’t even with us today when he got hurt, and the exterminator didn’t sound like they recognized him. Cherri is reckless, we both know. He’s going to get hurt.”
“And it’s not like he would listen if we tried to send him away anyways.”
“That too. He would stick to us like superglue.”
Lily took her eyes off the road briefly to glance back at Cherri, who was still curled up tightly as they bumped along. Even when he slept, there was a slight bit of guardedness to him, unwilling to fully stretch out. “I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”
“Me too.”
-
They hadn’t known where they were going when they packed up and left the house, only knowing that they needed to get out, but a plan started to form in White Lily’s mind as they headed down the road. D didn’t question her, seemingly absorbed in his thoughts as he stared out the window, and Cherri was passed out from a combination of blood loss and not sleeping well for a while. Ever, really. Lily didn’t think he had slept through the night since he arrived- he rarely actually woke one of them up, but she was up on her own often enough when he would be awake and bumping around. So even without the ray gun wound, he definitely needed sleep.
Lily turned them off the path they had been following, pulling up in a somewhat intact town. They were parked in front of the most intact house, an almost Victorian style home with sturdy walls. This was where Lily knew she could find an old friend, of sorts. 
Autumn Assassin was somewhere between twenty-five and thirty years old, about five foot four, and utterly and completely terrifying. They were the best shot with a ray gun she had ever met, with the possible exception of Cherri, and could use a variety of other weapons with startling ease. They were also terrifyingly competent at cooking and keeping organized, and hadn’t put up with anyone’s shit in living memory. Lily had served with them for a time in the Helium Wars, and that brief service together was enough to give her a healthy respect for them. 
“Where are we?” D asked, finally seeming to come out of their thoughts.
“An old friend’s house." Lily headed into the back, grabbing one of the bags as D lifted Cherri carefully. She led the others up to the door of the old and mostly intact house, knocking once she had finished laughing at the ‘House of Soup’ spray-painted next to the door. 
Said door was opened by an unfamiliar killjoy with messy blond hair. “Hello, what can I do for you?”
“I need to talk to Autumn Assassin, do they still live here?”
“Sure do!” There was a loud crash and some yells from within the house. “I’ll get them in uhhh a second. HEY AUTUMN! WE NEED YOU UP HERE!”
A few more yells followed that, as well as one or two more crashes. “Now put that sword down or so help me!” The familiar tiny killjoy appeared at the door, putting their hands solidly on their hips. “So what is it, Princey?”
“These fine ‘joys showed up on our doorstep and asked to see you.”
“Ah. White Lily!”
“Hey, Autumn Assassin. You don’t happen to have a spare room, do you?”
Autumn Assassin looked them up and down, eyes raking over D’s tired face, the bits of blood splattering all of them, and Cherri passed out in D’s arms. “Of course I do.”
Lily breathed a tiny sigh of relief as the smaller killjoy hurried them inside. The interior of the house proved to be quite cozy, a nice living room outfitted with a verity of mismatching and likely stolen or scavenged furniture. There were also a variety of killjoys lounging around the living room and/or draped over said furniture, laughing and calling back and forth to each other as Autumn Assassin led the three of them further inside and up the stairs.
They turned left on the landing, opening the door to what had once been a bedroom, clearly. “Here you go, this is the best free room in the house, currently. We might even have an extra mattress laying around, you’ll have to give me a second to find it through.” They rummaged around in the closet of the room for a few minutes. “Ah! Here we go!”
It was a larger mattress than one would reasonably expect to fit in a closet, but Autumn Assassin had managed to cram it in there anyways, it appeared. They hauled it out and laid it across the floor of the fairly bare room. “Here you go.” 
“Thank you,” Lily said gratefully as D set Cherri down. 
“Of course. Now come tell me about your friends and how you came to be here, I’ve got to cook dinner but you can come downstairs with me.”
“I’ll wait with Cherri,” D told Lily. “He’ll probably not be very happy about waking up alone in a strange place.”
Lily nodded and so did Autumn as they tromped downstairs, shouldering past another killjoy to reach the kitchen. “And here we go, pass me that can of power pup, would you?”
Lily handed it to them. “So you’ve been living here…”
“Couple of months now, me and the brit boys settled down here first and then we acquired a couple of other friends along the way. It’s a safehouse of sorts, we give a room to anyone who needs one.”
“Gotcha.”
“So how did you come to be here with an injured teenager and that other guy?”
“That other guy is Dr. Death Defying, my friend from my very first squadron. And the teenager is Cherri Cola, a random killjoy who came to live with us after he accidentally stumbled on our house while looking for shelter.”
“Seems legit.” They were stirring a pot of power pup with a few other things thrown in. “So how did you end up here?”
“You know 109 WKIL?”
“The radio station? Of course I do.”
“We run that, you might know, and so Better Living Industries has been trying to track our signal. Cherri went out and got hurt in a clap with an exterminator, and the exterminator told him that they were close to finding WKIL, so we had to leave home in a hurry.”
“And he didn’t die? An exterminator?”
“Didn’t die, just got hurt. He’s a good shot and a much better fighter than you would expect.”
Autumn Assassin nodded, stirring the pot one more time before they put it over the fire already lit in the sink. “So you decided to come here?”
“I knew it would be safe, and I figured you would let us stay for a while.”
“Hon, you can stay as long as you need.” They made a face. “I’ve started talking like a southern grandma.” 
“You practically are a grandparent,” Lily deadpanned. 
“Rude. See if I let you stay here now.” Their voice was joking, and Lily didn’t think for a second they would actually kick her out. “But in all seriousness, you really can stay for as long as you need. You’re staying until your friend is healed at least. He looks like barely more than a kid.”
“He’s sixteen. Seventeen by now, I’m guessing, but he didn’t tell us his birthday.” She ignored the faint twinge of guilt that neither she nor D had thought to ask. Birthdays weren’t such a big deal in the desert, but they still celebrated when they could. 
“See? Child. Baby. Youngster.”
“You’re literally twenty-five.”
“I’m still not a literal child. Plus, I’m a cat grandparent.”
White Lily raised her eyebrows at them.
“Princey- his name is Prince of Wales but we call him Princey- adopted a mangy stray cat. And we’ve decided I’m the collective parent friend.” Autumn gave the pot another fierce stir. 
“Ah.”
“Yeah.” They lifted the pot off the heat. “Dinner!”
This was met by a cascade of killjoys thundering down the stairs and several more hurrying in from the living room, much to Autumn Assassin’s disgruntled “One at a time!” 
Within a few minutes, everyone had snatched one of the chipped bowls or plates (some of which appeared to actually be empty power pup cans) and were lined up neatly. D and Cherri appeared to have been alerted by the noise as well, given that they made their way slowly down the stairs after everyone else.
“Guests first,” Autumn Assassin said firmly, and the killjoys all stepped aside to let D and Cherri by. “Here you go, Lily, here you go…Dr. Death Defying, Lily said?”
He nodded.
“And here you go, young man.” They dumped some in the chipped bowl one of the ‘joys had handed Cherri. 
“Thank you,” Cherri said quietly.
“Of course. Go sit down, you three, I’m going to hand some out to the rest of this lot.” Within a few minutes, the entire household was sprawled back out around the room eating the mixture that Autumn Assassin had spooned onto their plates, and Autumn Assassin came to join the three of them over in the corner Lily had claimed.
“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced, I’m Autumn Assassin.”
“Cherri Cola.”
“Dr. Death Defying. It’s nice to meet you; Lily said you were a friend of hers?”
“We knew each other during the Helium Wars,” Lily explained. “I figured they would be happy for us to come stay a bit.”
“And I am, you can stay as long as you need. We don’t turn away ‘joys in need in this household.” They gestured with their spoon a bit as they spoke, adding emphasis to their words. “If I have extra food and rooms, I might as well give them to people.”
“Well, we’re very glad you do,” Dr. Death Defying put in.
“Of course.”
The rest of the dinner was quiet, at least for the four of them. The rest of the room was filled with laughter and chatter and spirit, a bunch of teens and twenty-something killjoys talking between themselves and having a good time. Occasionally, one of them got up to grab more from the pot that Autumn Assassin had prepared, until the entire thing was empty and everyone seemed to have eaten their fill. After the meal was over, they all split off to different places, some off to bed and some to hang out on the roof, it seemed. The three of them went back to the little room, figuring that Cherri could use some rest and all pretty tired themselves.
Cherri was conked out within minutes, and D and Lily settled on the mattress but didn’t go to sleep just yet.
“I hope we don’t bring bli down on Autumn Assassin’s head,” D fretted softly.
“If we do, they’ll flip the corporation off and keep right on cooking,” Lily predicted with a snort.
D gave a small chuckle. “They might just, from what I’ve seen of them so far.”
“They’re terrifyingly put together. And a good fighter, but how organized they are is scarier.”
“They act like they have their life together.”
Lily flopped on her back, staring at the ceiling. “I’m pretty sure they do. Unlike us.”
“Unlike us. We’re trying to run a revolution at twenty-two and twenty-one though, I think it can be forgiven.”
“Probably.”
D groaned softly as he settled down as well. “I’m too young for achy everything.”
“So am I, and everything still fucking hurts sometimes.”
“Guess that’s life.” 
The duo stared up at the ceiling together as Cherri slept well, not exactly peacefully, but not horribly, at least. They had already talked about the morality of all this, but Lily was sure that would have been their topic of conversation if they hadn’t. It was awfully hard to decide if they were doing the right thing, sometimes. They were fighting for the future of their generation and all the ones after, but that fight would take away hundreds or thousands of futures as well. Could the death of so many people, so many teenagers, just barely out of childhood, be justified? Could she ask children to die for her? It had been an exhausting day, but even in the safety of Autumn Assassin’s house, her mind refused to rest. She had a thousand doubts and no one to say them to, not even D. They doubted too, she knew, but D had a somewhat more utilitarian approach to it all. To him, the world they were fighting for was worth all the death and pain. It had to be, or why would they fight? So Lily didn’t say anything further about it, but she didn’t sleep either.
It appeared D wasn’t sleeping as well, as they shifted slightly on the mattress beside her. “It’s real now, isn’t it.” It wasn’t a question.
“It’s real now,” Lily agreed quietly.
In the history books that Better Living Industries would write, the Analog Wars began in 2010, when dangerous anarchists attacked a peaceful Better Living Industries encampment. In the stories passed down by the killjoys, they began a couple of months before that, with the attack on a small town of killjoys and neutrals by Better Living Industries. But to Dr. Death Defying and White Lily, the war began the second their friend staggered in the door with a hand pressed to his bleeding side and a dreadful warning on his lips.
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tabbiblue · 4 years
Text
So I've been on Testosterone since June 2019. Pne problem though. I've been horrifically terrified of medical needles/syringes since I can remember. We're talking meltdowns at the doctor's office over getting my finger pricked. We're t a l k i n g my older brother having to chase me through the house and pin me down screaming over getting a splinter out (Never anything less than a 2 person affair). I can probably blame this one dentist for all of this. Anyways.
So for months I went Every Single Week downtown, parked for 2 dollars, and got my shot by a nurse. We tried to get the gel but insurance is Picky.
And then the doctors office ran out. And I missed a month. They got more stock and things were ok
Until it happened again.
So with the fear of missing more shots that have literally changed my life, I asked to be taught how. So I could do it. At Home.
It's been two months. I don't miss my shots, this One doctor at my pharmacy is a Legendary ally (everyone else is incompetent and I am not exaggerating out of 8 people he is the only one to not bullshit me), and well that's all good.
Except. 1.5 inch needle. It took me an hour the first time. I always shake for hours after.
But today I did it in 7 minutes. Still shaking, but I'm pacifying myself with a protein smoothie pak and cuddling my dog so
I'm just really proud.
(Also I had to retrain my voice recognition because it Refused and said it didn't recognize me so thanks T)
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monstersandmaw · 5 years
Text
Male drider x male naga (nsfw)
This is a commission for someone who asked me to hold off posting it til today because it’s their birthday. So, happy birthday! I hope you like this. I really enjoyed working with these two characters of yours, and I’m totally in love with Ambrose...
Contents: one naga with some colourful language, one shy and arachnophobic drider boy, some thievery, some fluff, and some smut. Length: 4847 words
___________________________
Aiden cursed as he ducked and wove through the dense pine trees as evening pressed on relentlessly into night and the baying of the hounds and shouting of guards faded behind him.  
It had all been going so well until the duchess had returned early to her chambers and caught him red-handed with his sharp, taloned claws in her safe. She’d shrieked half the castle down, screaming about thieving snakes, leaving the naga no choice but to hurl himself out of the window and take a long dive into the freezing, filthy moat surrounding her castle. At least he still had her jewels in his satchel. He grinned wickedly to himself, canines flashing in the dying light of the day.  
Honestly, he was exhausted.
His python-like lower half was built for stealth rather than for prolonged speed, and his muscles were screaming at him to stop. The warmth had faded from the day, and the cold-blooded naga was starting to feel the chill as his muscles tightened and began to burn. His underside bore scratches and scrapes from his long flight, first through the remote castle’s extensive grounds, and then out into the wilder woods beyond. Sharp rocks had scored along his thick, red-scaled hide, leaving him bruised and a bit bloody, and he ached all over.  
Thirsty, weak, and with nowhere left to go, he eventually slowed his pace, breathing hard, and came to a halt in a quiet glade amid tall, silent pine trees. The wind hissed in the needled canopy above, but down here between the sentinel trunks, nothing moved. The baying of the duke’s hounds had long since faded into nothing, and as he swept his spiky, dark red hair back out of his eyes, he went utterly still, straining to hear any sounds at all. His head swam and his vision went double for a moment. He’d not eaten in days and while that wasn’t normally an issue for a naga, it was going to be problem for him soon after expending so much energy on escaping.  
Lightheaded, weak, and shaky, he swayed on the spot.  
Something darker than the surrounding shadows moved in the trees up ahead, and he swore softly, trying to get his eyes to focus.  
He ground his teeth and drew his body up tall, hoping to look menacing, but the extra effort sapped the last vestiges of strength from him and before he knew what was happening, he had pitched forwards and was lying face down in the carpet of old pine needles. Woozy, on the edge of consciousness, he watched as the dusk-dark body of a drider emerged hesitantly from the trees. He couldn't see enough to make out any features, but the blue-black of the delicate limbs that speared down silently into the forest floor was enough to tell him it was a drider.  
“Shit,” he hissed and his eyes rolled shut as he finally succumbed to his exhaustion. 
When he next stirred, he was chilled and sluggish, and lying in the dark somewhere. Warmth; he needed to get warm. And where the hell was he? The last thing he recalled was the approach of a drider. He realised with a jolt of fear that he should be wrapped up in webbing, stored for some future meal, if even half of what was said about driders was true. But he was free, if sluggish and sore.  
He blinked and tried to push himself upright on shaking arms, his cold muscles reluctant to obey him, and as he shifted, something squeaked at the back of whatever dank cave he was in. A rat?  
Still fighting the lingering grogginess, he lifted his head and saw a drider shoot backwards, stumbling over its tangle of spindly limbs, only to sit down heavily and stare at him with wide, panicked, dark eyes. The drider looked young, but into his adult years, and his dark, messy, almost violet-purple hair fell into his eyes as he panted, clearly terrified, and stared at the naga. The skin of his human half was bear and almost pure white, in stark contrast to his dark spider’s body, and his torso was rather scrawny, skinny, and a little pathetic, but flawless as carved marble.  
“Hello,” the drider croaked awkwardly. “You’re awake. You startled me.”
“No shit,” Aiden grunted. “Where the hell am I? And who are you?”
“My… My name is Ambrose,” he faltered, following it up with a frankly adorable smile, and Aiden was pleasantly surprised by the little dimples that formed in his cheeks at the gesture. “You’re… You’re in my -” he broke off with a screech and shot sideways, limbs scrabbling on the stony floor as he stared at the floor beside him.
“What the fuck?” Aiden muttered as he watched the drider panic at apparently nothing. “What is wrong with you?”
“Spider,” the drider whimpered pathetically, pointing a slender finger at the spot where he’d been sitting in a mess of dark limbs only a moment before.  
Aiden found laughter bubbling up inside him and he roared with amusement, the whole cave echoing with the sound of it. “You’re shitting me!” he wheezed. “Oh that’s fucking precious! A drider that’s afraid of spiders!” He laughed until his sides hurt and his eyes watered, but when he eventually got himself together, he wiped the tears from his eyes and crooned in a patronising baby-voice, “You want me to put it outside for you?”
“Yes please…” the drider mumbled miserably, not meeting Aiden’s gaze.  
Aiden snorted, still chuckling to himself, and scooped the tiny black spider up and chucked it out into the forest, feeling the drag of his cold tail and the ache of his muscles. He grunted and winced, rubbing the back of his neck and looking around the cave. “So, this dump is your home then?”
Ambrose’s cheeks flushed scarlet, and he nodded. “Yes. It’s… It’s not much. And thank you for putting the spider outside,” he said. “Normally I just wait over here until they’ve gone away…”
“You have to be the worst spider boy ever,” he snickered, ignoring the way Ambrose’s face crumpled dejectedly.  
The drider levered himself up off the ground, arranging his stick-like legs underneath him and, to Aiden’s surprise, the naga realised he was really quite tall. His legs were thin and fragile looking, and his pendulous, midnight black body was covered in silky-soft hair. The tactile naga was almost overwhelmed by the desire to touch it, and drew himself back before he could give in to the unexpected urge.  
“Well,” Aiden said, “I don’t suppose you’ve got a fire pit in this hovel, have you? I’m fucking frozen, and I stink from my impromptu swim in that foul bitch’s moat. I need a bath, and I need to warm the fuck up.”
Ambrose looked frankly horrified at the naga’s crass language, and Aiden reminded himself to rein it in a bit. No need to offend the person who’d been kind enough to pick him up and bring him here. He mused on that for a while and then asked, “Hang on a second… How the fuck did you get me in here? You look like one stiff breeze would send you spinning away like a tumbleweed!” He laughed at the image of the poor little drider cartwheeling away on the wind, only to find Ambrose looking hurt and embarrassed. “Ah, shit,” the naga added. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright,” Ambrose mumbled. “I’m stronger than I look though. I dragged you here. I made a litter out of web and pulled it like a sled. You’re heavy, but I managed alright.” He tucked a stray strand of his inky hair behind his delicate ear and added, “There’s a stream just a few hundred yards that way, if you wanted to wash. I’ll start a fire for you.”
Something about the quiet sadness in his voice made Aiden pause. He looked at the miserable looking drider and asked, “You live out here alone?”
He nodded mutely and turned away.
With a sigh, Aiden slithered painfully out of the cave and found the stream. It was freezing, but it washed off the muck from the moat, and with every icy wave that bit into his skin, he promised himself he’d be warming up beside a toasty fire before too long.  
Aiden hauled himself back up the steep bank, panting and groaning, his head aching and his vision blurred from exhaustion and lack of food. He let out a string of vile curses when he had to force himself to stop and take a breather. “Damned, fucking cold-blooded snake,” he swore, cranking his tail up the last bit of the incline and beginning his slow drag back to the cave.  
When he got there, he found that Ambrose was heating a pot of something over a now-roaring fire, and it smelled amazing. “What’s cooking?” he asked, nearly adding ‘good looking’ for good measure afterwards, but he decided against it.  
“Rabbit stew,” he said. “I made it this morning. It’s good to be reheated once more though. Is that alright?”
“Fuck yeah,” he grinned, and Ambrose gave him a very shy little smile in return. Something about it made Aiden’s stomach flip over and he crushed the sensation immediately. It wouldn’t do to go falling for some cute little spider boy when he was out in the middle of nowhere and still had to turn his thieved goods into his guild’s boss.  
The two shared their meal in relative silence, but Aiden couldn’t help noticing the way Ambrose always made sure he had enough, and how the drider watched him eat and then glanced away whenever he caught him staring.  
“You really don’t get out much, do you?” he asked boldly when it happened for the third or fourth time. “How many other people have you seen lately?”
Tears formed suddenly in Ambrose’s eyes and he looked away. Guilt lanced through Aiden, and he lowered his empty bowl, setting it down on the ground.  
“Hey, come on, don’t cry. I didn’t mean to be…” He broke off and turned away. “I know I can be a real dick sometimes. Maybe it comes from having two of them…” he interjected, and then cursed himself for saying something so crude. “Anyway, look, I just meant… you seem nice. You don’t deserve to be shut away up here in the mountains, living alone in a cave full of spiders that you’re absolutely terrified of.” He couldn't help the little giggle at the memory of Ambrose tripping over himself in his terror at the little spider, but his mirth was short-lived.
“I have nowhere else to go,” Ambrose said in a tiny voice.  
The way he said it made something in Aiden’s chest crack. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
He nodded. “I’m scared to go out alone. So many people hate my kind. I’m scary to them, but really… I’m… I’m the one who’s afraid.”
“Come with me,” Aiden said before he’d even thought about what he was going to say. The sudden statement shocked him; Aiden was not known for random acts of kindness.
“Where? Where will you go? I saw what was in that bag,” he said, pointing to the satchel with the stolen diamond tiara and necklaces. “You’re a thief and a criminal. What kind of life are you trying to offer me?”
Aiden hissed out a sigh. “You’re right. But I mean… spider silk is really good for healing, and you could maybe work at a healers nearby if… you know… ah shit, what am I saying? I don’t know.” He scratched his head, feeling the rake of his sharp claws over his scalp. “You don’t even know me.” He sighed. “Forget I said anything.”
Ambrose looked at him steadily across the dancing flames of the fire pit. The light reflected in his big, dark eyes, and Aiden felt that strange coiling in his gut again that had nothing to do with the excellent food that the drider had prepared for him. He was strangely beautiful, in his skinny, slightly creepy looking way, but it was easy to see how some folk might be unnerved by the sight of him.  
The warmth from the fire began to make his head nod and a drowsiness washed over him as he coiled himself up tightly beside the fire pit a few minutes later.  
“You should rest,” Ambrose murmured quietly, coming over and stooping gracefully to pick up the wooden bowl that Aiden had abandoned beside him.  
“Thankssssssss…” he hissed, forgetting not to lisp as his body tipped towards sleep before he could stop it. He must have been more exhausted than he’d realised as he slurred, “That wassssss reallygood.”
“I’m glad,” Ambrose said in a soft voice. “Do you want a blanket?”
“Mmm,” was all Aiden could get out before he slipped into sleep.  
Inhaling deeply, he stirred and felt the warm weight of a huge woollen blanket over him, and he looked up to see Ambrose on the other side of the cave, curled with his legs stowed neatly beneath him on a wide hammock of web. The thought struck Aiden that he looked oddly sweet like that, and he smiled.  
The gentle vibrations caused by the naga waking and stretching must have reached the slumbering drider because he twitched awake with a yelp of distress and scuttled back into the deepest corner of the cave, eyes wide and fearful and unfocused.  
“Hey, it’s just me, dumbass,” Aiden chortled. “Remember, the criminal snake you adopted yesterday?”
Ambrose surprised him by beaming a wide smile at him that stopped his slow-beating heart for a few seconds and stalled his brain. Gods above; he was beautiful.  
“What?” the drider asked. “Do I have drool on my face? Have I leaked webbing or something?”  
“Is that like pissing yourself?” he snorted, shattering whatever moment had hung pendulously between them.  
“No,” Ambrose replied, blushing prettily. “It’s still embarrassing though.”
When he looked around and saw that in fact everything was as it should be, with no drool or webbing out of place, he sighed and stretched. Aiden tried not to watch too closely as his torso flexed, but he found that he had to turn away all the same.  
Ambrose went lax with a grunt and looked over at Aiden with his big dark eyes gleaming softly. “How are you feeling today?”
“Stiff, tired, achy…” Aiden complained. “But mostly alright, I guess.”
Ambrose’s previously relaxed posture tightened and he looked suddenly as though he were staving off tears.  
Aiden moved closer, his smooth, hard scales barely whispering on the cold rock of Ambrose’ dank little home. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
“Oh, nothing,” he said, trying to hide his emotions behind a wavering little smile. “Nothing…”
Aiden cocked an eyebrow, and Ambrose caved.  
“Fine,” the drider sniffed, turning away, legs moving like a clockwork automaton.  
Not having legs himself, Aiden would have been lying if he had said that he didn't also find Ambrose’ eight, slender legs fascinating. Forcing himself to concentrate, he shifted a little closer to the drider, who paused when he sensed him getting near, and drew in another long breath before speaking.  
“I suppose… I mean… it’s kind of lonely up here in the forest…”
“But this cave is full of spiders to keep you company,” Aiden jested, and Ambrose suppressed a shudder. “Ok, seriously though, if you hate it so much, why do you live here? There’s a town not fifty miles away, and for someone with legs like yours, that wouldn’t be a taxing journey… I don’t get the whole hermit act… Give people a chance… Trust me, there are way scarier looking beasties out there than you. You’re positively angelic in comparison to some of the folk in my guild, let me tell you…”
Ambrose looked over his slender shoulder at Aiden and gave a sad little smile. “You’re the first person who’s ever seen me and not run screaming.”
Aiden’s heart cracked at that. “What?” he breathed. “You’re shitting me! But… But you’re -” he cut off quickly before he embarrassed himself.  
“I’m a drider, that’s what!” Ambrose said hotly, drawing himself up tall, and for the first time, Aiden saw him as perhaps others did: more than a little ‘otherworldly’, with his big dark eyes and ghostly pale skin, his long limbs and his rounded, downy arachnid body. “People hate driders. They think we’re creepy or scary, or that we eat their children, or wrap them up in web for later and suck them dry…”
“You don’t?” Aiden snorted. “Damn, I quite liked the idea of being able to say I’d survived a few nights with a monster…”
The hurt on Ambrose’ face cut Aiden to the quick once again.  
“Ah, shit,” he said. “I’m sorry. I always run my mouth when I get uncomfortable.”
“See? I make even you uncomfortable!” he said, huge, crystal tears rolling down his pale cheeks. “And you’re a criminal and a thief!”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he huffed defensively. “Just because I nick stuff for a living, doesn’t mean I hang around with creeps… Ok, maybe I do, but they’re alright. My crew is alright. We don’t steal from people who don’t deserve it, you know?”  
He darted back to where his satchel still lay on the rock and scooped it up, drawing out the sparkling gems.  
“The bitch who owned these has a whole vault beneath the castle. She just kept these ones in her room because they were her favourite. She also keeps a tiefling on a leash as some kind of sick pet, and she’s got a centaur whose coat she dyes baby pink and has her paraded around for her amusement. Trust me, I’ve seen monsters, and you, my friend, are not one.”
Ambrose was still crying silently, but he lowered his dark spider’s body close to the floor, legs moving seamlessly like the dwarven and goblin lifting mechanisms at the docks. “I guess I don’t want you to go yet,” he said in a small voice.  
“Who said I was going anywhere?” he grinned, wondering what he was getting himself into. This wasn’t like him. Had Ambrose been anyone else, he’d have left him in the dust a long time ago, but there was something about his curious innocence, and the way he had instinctively helped the weakened naga, despite his obvious wariness of others…  
Ambrose perked up visibly at that. “You… You mean you want to stay?”
“Maybe for a few more days,” he shrugged, putting the jewellery back in the sack. “Just until I feel myself again, you know?”
“This isn’t you at your best?” Ambrose joked, and he was met with an answering grin from Aiden.  
“Ho boy,” Aiden beamed at him, sharp canines showing. “I’m unstoppable when I’m on top form. Just you wait.”
The exchange seemed to have cheered Ambrose up, but when Aiden asked the drider if he fancied showing him around the surrounding forest, Ambrose shrank away again, shaking his head. “I can’t,” he said.
“What do you mean?”  
“I… I don’t go out much.”
Well, that much was actually obvious to the naga, but still… “Just a few yards from the cave?” he said. “I’m cold and I could use some sunshine on my scales, you know?” he said, flicking his red hair playfully. It was enough to draw a little smile from Ambrose, and he agreed to accompany Aiden to the mouth of the cave, and then just a bit further.  
Aiden found himself drawing the drider out more and more, both literally, and metaphorically as they laughed together over meals, or, more accurately, as Aiden scandalised him with tales of his thieving crew’s antics and escapades. However, after another four days, Aiden was certain of two things. The first was that he had stayed too long and his crew would be wondering if he’d just run off with the profits of the heist, and the second was that he was falling for this sweet, intelligent, shy, under-socialised drider faster and harder than he ever would have thought possible.  
“Come with me,” he murmured, on the evening when he had decided to announce that he absolutely had to return the next day.  
The two were lying beside the fire, Ambrose with all his legs tucked up adorably beneath him so that he looked like a little black cat with its paws scrunched in close to its body. He was also leaning his upper body against Aiden’s, who was coiled around Ambrose’ entire form. He was just long enough to be able to encircle him completely, the very tip of his tail just coming to rest in front of Ambrose’ spider body. Occasionally, the dark tip of his tail would twitch involuntarily, and Ambrose’ eyes would always dart down to look at it, and he would twitch his pretty lips into a little smile every time. Naturally, Aiden did it deliberately sometimes, just to watch his new friend’s reaction.  
“I can’t,” Ambrose whispered hoarsely.  
“Do you want to?” Aiden asked. “I mean, don’t you want to see the world? Do you really want to live out your whole life in this one cave full of spiders which you’re terrified of? How long do driders even live anyway…?”
His face crumpled. “We can live a long time,” he mumbled. “And no. Of course I don’t want to stay here alone forever.”
Aiden reached his hand out and ran the back of his fingers up the smooth, slightly fuzzy surface of the leg nearest to him. Ambrose shuddered violently and let out a gasp of shock, eyes rolling closed. When Aiden repeated the gesture, a moan spilled from Ambrose’ lips, and it was the most seductive and delicious sound that Aiden had ever heard anyone make.  
“Holy shit,” he breathed. “Ambrose, you… the sound you just made…”
“I’m sorry,” he panted, pink flushing his skin from collarbones all the way up to his ears. “That… That felt so good.”
“Has anyone ever touched you?”
Ambrose shook his head, his messy hair tumbling into his heavily lidded eyes.
The naga went very still and removed his fingers from the incredibly soft velvet at the ‘hip’ of Ambrose’ spider leg, where it joined his spider body. “Would you let me?” Aiden asked. “Would you let me make you feel good?”
Ambrose licked his lips and opened his glittering eyes. His pupils were huge in the dark, and he nodded slowly. “Please…”
“You want me to make you feel good?” Aiden asked again. “How far do you want to go?”
“I don’t know,” he said. His pulse beat rapidly at his throat, but he looked determined. “Will you stop if I ask you to?”
“Of course,” he said, and he couldn’t resist adding, “I know I’ve got two of them, but I’m not that much of a dick…”
Ambrose snorted, his lips hitching up on one side. “I barely have one, so…”
It was Aiden’s turn to be confused, and Ambrose’s turn to laugh.  
Ambrose blushed and giggled his way through a rapid-fire lesson in drider anatomy, and Aiden was suddenly very interested. “Male driders don’t really have a… you know… I mean we do, but it only really comes all the way out when it’s mating season. Mostly it just stays inside. Even if… you know…”  
“So wait, you’ve got a slit, or what?” he asked. “I mean, some male naga have both, so I’m cool with whatever you’ve got going on down there… but that’s… that’s kinda hot, you know?”
Ambrose’s answering blush was so pretty that Aiden felt his cocks stirring already, and the heat must have shown in his gaze because Ambrose’ blush only deepened when he realised. “You think…? I mean… You’re… You’re turned on by me?”
“Yes,” he hissed. “Very much so.”
“And it’s not just curiosity?”
He shook his head. “Part of it is - I do like the idea of something new - but mostly it’s just you. You’re sweet and bashful, and you deserve to be praised and told how beautiful you are. I want to give that to you.”
A single tear rolled down Ambrose’s cheek. “Alright,” he said. “How… How do you want to do this?”
A little while later, Ambrose was on his back, and Aiden was trailing his claws down his incredibly soft and wildly sensitive underbelly. Ambrose jerked and twitched and bucked, crying out and biting the back of his hand as Aiden worked him all over, just getting him used to the sensation of being touched and, quite honestly, worshipped. Aiden noticed almost immediately that Ambrose was getting wet in a very particular place on his lower body, and when he ran his fingertips over it, he discovered a slit that was slick and warm and wet.  
“Can I use my mouth on you?” he asked huskily.  
Ambrose whimpered and nodded his assent. “Wait,” he gasped, and the naga halted. “Are you poisonous?” His words were slurred and weak, but he cracked one dark eye open and tried unsuccessfully to focus on Aiden through the pleasure of the touches he was still receiving from Aiden’s fingertips.  
The naga snorted, amused. “ ‘Venomous’ is the term you’re looking for, and no. No juice in these,” he said, flashing his canines. “Some of us are, but I’m not. Don’t worry.”  
And with that, Aiden leaned his weight against the curve of Ambrose’ body and cautiously lowered his mouth to taste him. Aiden’s long tongue lapped at him, finding him slightly sweet and a little salty, and he soon discovered Ambrose’s cock seated deep inside him. As he worked his tongue repeatedly along the length of it, sometimes managing to curl the long muscle almost all the way around Ambrose’s hidden cock, he felt the walls of the slit pulse almost rhythmically, and he knew that it would feel incredible to be inside him.  
When Aiden paused and voiced this aloud, Ambrose, who was quickly becoming a whining, mewling mess of limbs and heaving body, groaned, “Yes! Please…”
Aiden looked down the length of his own, scarlet red body, and bit his lip. Not only was the larger of his two cocks fully erect and weeping profusely, but the second, which usually only became fully erect during the naga’s heats, was also hard and slick. “Well, well,” he said. “Look what the sight of you like this has done to me,” he chuckled.
Ambrose managed to open his eyes with a flutter of long, dark lashes, and he smiled. “Beautiful,” he rasped. “I want you…”
Aiden shifted, coiling himself up so that he could slide easily into the slick heat of Ambrose’ sheath. The moment their cocks touched, he felt a jolt run right through him, and he gasped, clinging to Ambrose’ body. “Fuck,” he snarled. “Fuck, you’re perfect…”
Ambrose was beyond words at the sensations coursing through him.  
“I’ve never felt so full,” he managed to gasp a few minutes later after Aiden had begun to rock back and forth inside him. “I… I don’t think I’m… I’m going to…” he panted, his body convulsing and shaking with over stimulation beneath Aiden. “I -” and with a rush of heat beneath Aiden, the drider came.
Spurts of thick, hot come pulsed around Aiden’s two cocks, and the naga lost his rhythm and his control, coming with a gasp a second after Ambrose.  
Ambrose’ uninhibited yell of pleasure echoed off the walls of his home as he came, his body twitching and rocking with pleasure, while Aiden rammed his eyes shut, cocks buried inside him, and ground his teeth, gasping at the intensity of it. He had never come like this.  
It took a while for both of them to come back to their senses, and when they did, Aiden laughed nervously and slid free of Ambrose. “You alright?” he asked, voice hoarse.  
Ambrose nodded and tightened his skinny torso, abs clenching as he looked down his body to where his lower half was frankly a mess. “I think I might need to bathe tonight,” he said. Then, with a wicked glint in his eyes that Aiden would never have suspected from him, he added, “Unless you want to go again?”
“What have I unleashed?” he laughed.  
In fact, they did go again, twice more, before the dawn.  
As they were both tired and spent, washing clean in the freezing stream, Ambrose said quietly, “I think I will come with you.”
“What, you only want me for the sex now?” Aiden joked.  
Ambrose remained serious as he said, “No. I was thinking about it before. If you promise that you will help me… I’d like to come with you. I’d like to see something of the world.”
Aiden was not expecting his heart to react in the way it did, but he flashed Ambrose a wide grin. “Great,” he said. “I promise. You’re going to love it. I just know it.”
___________________________
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riseoftheredking · 5 years
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I Bled For The Throne [4-25-19]
I donated blood today. But more than that, I had to tackle three phobias, with basically a poker face. I was running late to my apt because I drank 48 oz of liquid to make sure I could bleed a pint, and spent most of my morning pissing. On the way out, I went down the stairs but couldn’t get past her walker, so I had to let her go down first, and somehow, on my second way down, I ended up with a spider web on my face. Idk how. I really fucking don’t. But it happened.
I got misgendered a lot. I had to practically yell my pronouns at this one girl who kept insisting I was a woman >.> But the lady that drew my blood was great. And she said for my donor card, I was allowed to put what I identified as, regardless of what my license said. That felt nice. She kept calling me “sir” too and that- I never thought it would feel so amazing. Nobody’s ever called me sir before. 
Naturally, donating blood requires touch and needles and y’know, blood. So I mean, that was pretty tough in and of itself, but I was already prepared for that. I’ve gotten used to it from hematologist visits. But my dad needed blood, and he drained the blood bank. My mom needed a transfusion. I know well the importance of donating blood. What I wasn’t ready for was taking my temp. I reaaaally don’t do the whole oral thing. Not a big fan of anything in my mouth. I had a choice then. I made the right one. 
The cots were high up. I’m short. That was terrifying. I’m terrified of heights. Even with a step stool. I got through it. Getting down was harder, but the lady helped me down. The crazy thing was that the needle was bigger, because duh, draining a pint of blood into a bag. Yeah. But the pinch? Barely felt it. Like seriously, it was nothing. I don’t understand, because I have to get my blood tested like every 3 months and they use butterflies. Those somehow hurt worse? Wtf? idk maybe she just had magic hands. I’mma say she had magic hands. She reminded me of my sister-in-law. It felt like only a few minutes later she told me that the bag was more than halfway full. I ended up getting Chinese. Since I knew I’d have to disinfect with booze (like less than a shot of whiskey. Don’t worry, I’m safe) anyway because temperature, my mom suggested it and it sounded good enough to give it another go. Now I remember why I don’t eat out. I threw up. The food was delicious, and the place seemed decently clean. I still threw up. So there’s that. I’m not eating out anymore and I really wish society would normalize not eating out. It really hurts that I’ve had therapists and psychiatrists decide that eating out is a step in my recovery. It’s fucking not. It’s really fucking not. I don’t miss it. I might miss mu shu pork and wonton egg drop soup, but I’ll eventually learn to make it myself and be happy. It’s really something I can live without when push comes to shove. Throwing up isn’t always worth it.
Anyway, so dinner became two kit kats, and I guzzled a bottle of water like I haven’t drank in a year. I’m gonna have a peach smoothie when my stomach calms down, because I definitely need something, but I don’t want to eat. It’s almost 2am and I’m pretty sure my stomach is rejecting anything heavier than a kit kat.
Anyway, I got some cool GoT posters too. 
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shiftingdani · 6 years
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Enchanted Needles // Danchel
Who: Dani Harper and Rachel Berry ( @alyricalberry )
When: 1/25/2018, afternoon
Where: NYADA, Divine Designs
What: Rachel and Dani stop by Kurt´s old work place to see if 
General Notes: Just Dani and Rachel doing their duties, and it might be a little gay at the end. Because everyone was talking about how pretty Rachel was and Dani couldn´t agree more.
Dani hadn´t really spent any time with Rachel lately. Things had been strange and there had been too many things happening, but she was glad the other woman was alright, physically at least. It was clear that they had to do something about Kurt, so when Rachel had texted her and asked about whether or not she wanted to come along to talk to Kurt´s employer Dani had been quick to agree. She was waiting outside Rachel´s building, hair a light blonde with pink tips, coat pulled tightly around her. It was freezing outside and the sky was hanging above like a grey mass, it fit Dani´s mood just right.
Rachel pulled on a sweater and a large coat. It was cold today, but she was determined to find something, anything, that would help them find Kurt, so she knew she needed to be prepared to endure the cold weather. She could always summon a little bit of fire if she needed, though. She was happy to be going out with Dani. It was nice to have a friend around in this kind of situation. Plus, Dani knew Kurt probably better than anyone on campus, so having her input was incredibly helpful. Rachel tried not to think about the fact that wherever Kurt was, he was probably alone and terrified. She went out to meet Dani and gave her a small smile. "Hey you. How are you doing?" she asked.
Dani wondered if Rachel really cared how she was doing or if it was just the thing you said once you´ve met up with someone. She pushed the thought away and offered the other woman a smile. "I´m as alright as one can be," she then answered diplomatically. "I´m glad you texted me though. I´ve been meaning to go to Kurt´s work place, but I didn´t want to go alone." Truth be told: She could have gone alone, but she´d rather have someone there, someone who knew more about magic than she did and Rachel seemed to be the right person for that. "Shall we?"
Rachel nodded. "I have to. I can't believe I didn't think of it sooner," she said. "Let's go," she said as she let Dani towards Divine Designs. "You knew Kurt before he came here, right? Did he have enemies? Anyone who would want to kidnap him?" she asked, keeping her voice low to not be overheard
Dani shrugged her shoulders as they walked. "We only met a couple of times," She then told Rachel. "And you know Kurt, he´s not someone who holds back with what he has to say or thinks, but I don´t think he had enemies. Not people who could do this to him." Besides, this had been happening to more people on Campus, they had disappeared and now they were declared dead. Dani had a bad feeling about this, something was off and even though she couldn´t put her finger on it, it rubbed her the wrong way.
Rachel nodded. "You're right. This has to be something else entirely. I kust wish we could figure out what it is," she sighed. She opened the door to Divine Designs and followed her in. She looked around for a second and then asked the girl at the register if Remy LeBeau was in. She nodded and disappeared to go get him. "So, do we just ask him if he's heard from Kurt? Or if he knows anything about why he disappeared?"
Dani stepped into the shop. It was so very Kurt like to work here and for a moment she had to stop and force herself to take a deep breath. She missed him. He was her only connection to her old life, the only person who understood what it felt like to just be thrown in here. "Yeah...let´s ask if he´s heard of him. I know people keep saying Kurt has run off, but he´d never just leave a job he likes without formally quitting. So unless he´s done that we know he hasn´t run away,"
Rachel unzipped her coat and nodded. "That's a good point," she said. Just then, Remy LeBeau stepped out and looked at the girls. "Hello! I hear you were looking for me. Are you here for a new wardrobe?" He asked, looking Rachel up and down. Rachel shifted uncomfortably, vut she was mostly used to Kurt's snips about her wardrobe that it didn't even affect her anymore. It did make her miss Kurt though. "Um, no. We're here to ask about one of your employees. Kurt Hummel? We think he's missing and we were wondering if you'd maybe heard from him?" She asked.
Dani the man´s expression darkened at Rachel´s question. "So I´ve heard." He then nodded. Dani had assumed he´d notice that Kurt was gone, but seeing his expression she assumed Kurt hadn´t just quit. Not that she hadn´t known that, but it made everything painfully more real. "Yes. We´ve been wondering if there´s anything you can tell us, really, anything could be helpful." She then added with a nod.
Rachel Remy LeBeau shook his head. "Well, I haven't seen him," he told the girls. "And he hasn't contacted me. He hasn't shown up for a couple of shifts so I just figured he was sick," he told them. "It's too bad, really. He's such a talented designer. He doesn't use magic either, believe it or not," he praised. Rachel nodded. "He is very talented. We're trying to find him. Will you let us know if you hear from him? I can leave you my phone number," Rachel said.
Dani held back a sigh at the man´s words. She knew it had been unlikely that he´d known anything about Kurt´s whereabouts, but she had still hoped to get anything useful out of him. "We will. He´s told me just how much he likes working here," Dani commented, offering the man a smile. She felt her stomach drop as she bit her lip then, glancing over at Rachel. "You don´t have a different way to contact him, do you?" She then tried. "I just know that he would often ignore calls from us, but he´d never miss a day of work."
Dani Remy looked at both the girls, nodding. "I highly doubt I´d be the first person he´d contact, but I might just be able to help you," He nodded, seeming t think some things over in his head. "I once gifted him a set of sewing needles. He was polite about them, though he didn´t like the fact that they were enchanted. They´s automatically point towards their owner." He smiled at the memory, his face brightening all of a sudden. "You know...I could make you another pair, if you have Kurt´s DNA, that is."
Rachel 's eyebrows shot up when Remy said he could make some sort of tracking needle that would point them to Kurt. "Oh my gosh, really?" she said. She looked to Dani. "I don't really have anything of his. Do you?" she asked.
Dani could feel her heart missing a beat at the new found information. The man had told them about it so casually, but for them it could have been the one piece of information that would help in finding Kurt. "No...but I know Marley took a hairbrush, we should text her!" Dani pulled out her phone. "How about I text her and you go and get it? That way we´ll be quicker!"
Rachel nodded at Dani's suggestion. "Yes, that sounds perfect," she said. "Thank you so much, Professor LeBeau. I'll be right back with something with Kurt's DNA on it. We really appreciate it," she said before taking off to Marley's dorm.
Rachel returned about twenty minutes later, Kurt's hairbrush clutched tightly in her hand. "Will this do?" she asked Remy.
Dani nodded as she watched Rachel take off. She could feel her skin tingling slightly, as if they were finally getting closer to where they needed to be to save Kurt. The man nodded as he went to go back about his business while Dani went to check out the store. Everything here seemed to remind her of Kurt and while she felt a tug on her stomach at that, she knew they were doing the right thing. When she saw Rachel approaching them through the window she went back to Mr. LeBeau. "She´s back!" Dani called and the man moved back out front, nodding as he took the brush from Rachel. "Yes, very good." He then muttered. "Just give me a minute." And with that he was gone. Dani turned back to Rachel, her lips curving into a smile. "This is it. I can feel it!" she told her. Dani took a deep breath as she leaned against the counter. "So...how have you been? We haven´t really talked,"
Rachel allowed herself a giddy grin when Remy went back to do his thing. She grinned at Dani. "Let's hope so, anyways. I do have a good feeling about it, though," she said. She leaned against the counter and bit her lip at Dani's question. She wasn't sure how to answer. She didn't really want to talk to anyone about the Asterismos thing going on. It was too complicated, and she didn't even know what to make of it. She just smiled. "I've been alright. Mostly just worried about Kurt," she said. "How about you? I like your hair today, by the way. It's really nice."
Dani offered Rachel a smile. "I´ve been...pretty awful." She then answered honestly. It probably wasn´t what Rachel wanted to hear, but if she had learned one thing with Kurt going missing it was that life was too short to bottle it all up. "But...it´s been getting better. Hey, you know what? I´ve got a familiar now." She had already taken off her coat, but now she peeled up her shirt to reveal the tattoo on her ribs. At Rachel´s compliment she smiled again. "Thank you. I usually like to put a touch of color in it. Brightens those awfully dark days."
Rachel reached over to squeeze Dani's arm. "I do understand that," she said. She smiled when she saw the tattoo on Dani's ribs. "Dani! No way! Congratulations! Have you named them yet?" she asked. "I can't wait to get my familiar. I'm sad it's taken me so long. I wonder what it'll be..."
Dani glanced down at where Rachel was squeezing her arm and she smiled. It felt good to open up to her, even if it was just a little bit. "Well he´s a sassy orange cat, so I´ve naturally named him Fiyero," She replied with a laugh. "I´m sure you´ll get something really cool. And graceful. Marley said hers in a bird, which I find really fitting." It only took another moment for Mr. LeBeau to return with two sewing needles, which he had placed in a small box. "Here you go, girls." He nodded. "Normally I´d have to charge you for these," He then added, "But since this is to find Kurt I´ll make an exception."
Rachel gave a bright smile when Dani told her her familiar's name. "Fiyero! I love that! Wicked is one of my favourite shows!" she said "Poppy is so cute. I'd be lucky to get a lovely familiar like Marley's," she told her. She took the box from Professor LeBeau and ran a hand over it. "Thank you. We really appreciate this. Kurt will be back with us in no time, I know it."
Dani smiled, glad that someone had recognized her Wicked reference. She hadn't doubted that Rachel would though. “I love it too. Maybe we could go see it some time?” She suggested, watching as Rachel took the box. Dani felt a twinge of excitement, they were definitely on the right track! “Alright, come on,” she turned to the Professor, thanking him, before slipping her coat back on and offering her arm to Rachel.
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thatnerdgirl7 · 7 years
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OCD Master Post
Hello followers! 😊 So, I have seen some of these posts kicking around and I decided to make one of my own. It's not something I ever thought I'd do, because I don't really enjoy talking about my illness, much less sharing it on the Internet. But I feel that if I am able to share a few experiences with you, that I can help someone else get through their own struggle while simultaneously helping myself because writing down my thoughts is helpful because if they're on paper (or pixels in this case 😜) at least they're out of my head. About five or six years ago I was diagnosed with OCD and Anxiety. Actually, I diagnosed myself, since I read an article about a teenage girl who matched most of my symptoms (washing hands constantly, touching things many times, needing things to be "just right" or I couldn't continue my day etc) but I still attended therapy for CBT which helped immensely. For some reason as a wee un, I was terrified of chemicals. I think it was because I was aware of the dangers of under the sink items like bleach and what it can do to your body if you drink it. This made early secondary school hard because I had chosen biology as one of my subjects, and we had to work with chemicals on numerous occasions. What followed was: •Me literally running out of the room scared that the chemicals would spill on me or get near my mouth •Not trusting myself that I wouldn't drink said chemicals •Worrying the teachers who didn't know why I was acting like this •Prompting bullying from the other pupils •Me having to do textbook work while the others swirled liquids about in test tubes •One incident prompted a near panic attack when a pupil thinking they were being hilarious, found out I had a fear of Tippex (the correction fluid stuff) and smeared some on my jacket in front of a group of students outside the corridor •I was the reason one of my female classmates had her tippex unfairly confiscated when she wasn't even doing anything bad with it, I just felt uncomfortable Eventually, my fear of Tippex was overcome through the CBT and I learned not to act like a prat in class. But OCD is cunning like that. Once you get rid of one obsession your fear preys on something else. After the death of my grandparents, my anxiety went through the roof. You all know that scary Stephen King story It? Well, I watched the Nostalgia Critic's review of it (he was the crux of me getting my joy back because he made me laugh through a horrible time) Well after watching those clips, my Anxiety started to play havoc (and yet I LOVE horror movies so this was unusual) •Brain thinks how scary it would be to be a character in that book and have an evil clown following you •Brain thinks "Could this happen to you?" •Brain goes "Yeah actually and what if just like in the movie, you're the only one who can see him?" •Hence mind games with myself that I was hallucinating this clownish figure in my peripheral vision (despite the fact we can't see ANYTHING clearly in our peripheral vision and even if we could over active imagination/pseudo hallucinations don't necessarily mean you're crazy) •I convince myself that I must be Schizophrenic and that I was going to be committed to an asylum where they would stick needles and wires in me •Even today I can't watch a film or look at a picture of Tim Curry dressed in his clown costume for fear it might bring back an anxious episode (or as my OCD says "make you crazy." Then we come to my peak worst of the worst: My Obsession with the End. I know I'm not the first person to fear death and the inevitable end blah blah blah but from December 2013-through to 2014 I became terrified that wait for it: the UNIVERSE WOULD EXPLODE. Does that sound like a nonsense article to you? That's because that's exactly where I read it. A theory from Danish scientists speaking about how the universe may collapse into itself one day and "it could happen at any given time." Hence me searching up about outer space threats even though I knew deep down I was being very irrational. Strap in: it gets crazier •Remember in March 2014 when Russia marched into Crimea and then the rest of the world got into a huge proxy war over Ukraine? And how everyone was talking about it? Well, at school I couldn't escape talk of a WW3 and nuclear weapons. •My Anxiety went "HOLY MOLY I'VE STRUCK GOLD HERE!" •I began obsessively checking the news/any little hints and signs even Nostradamus predictions to make sure a world war wasn't starting soon (like I had any power to stop it if it did. "Duck and Cover children that'll save you from being roasted to a crisp!" •This subsided in summer until the MH317 plane was shot down over Ukraine. Then my Anxiety flared up again all throughout August, September and October. And then Winter cometh and I am a M E S S 😧 •I lost my appetite. I stopped eating because I felt like every time I did I was going to be sick. I took nothing but fluids and my weight dropped considerably to the point where my family became really concerned I was going to end up in hospital •I dropped out of school for seven weeks because I couldn't face anyone and spent most of November and December at home in a long depression where I spent most of it with my electronics confiscated (my parents couldn't trust I wouldn't look at the news) watching movies to try and cheer myself up and crying a lot. •Eventually after seeing my mum really upset and myself in the mirror at how much skinnier I was I decided to brave eating and soon my appetite returned and I resumed school •I was prescribed Setraline medication from the doctors which I found to work great for my anxiety but not for my ocd compulsions While things are MUCH better now, I still carry a lot of OCD symptoms that are noticeable on a daily basis: •Touching things a considerable ammount of times (must be certain numbers like 28, 57, 58, 64 and in some cases 84) •Having to thinking of a certain colour or topic while I do it (eg: blue, green, orange, purple, blue, green or film titles/celebrity names •Worrying about my sexuality. While I am straight as a ruler, my OCD tries to convince me that I am gay/bi. Even though I know it isn't true. Then I worry because I think if I am trying to erase through a compulsion the idea of being gay, does that make me a homophobe aka a grade A Twat? •Having scary intrusive thoughts about harming my family or children and sometimes animals and getting worried that I am an evil person if I am not immediately disgusted by it •Brain trying to convince me that if I like one thing eg a movie or an animal, I can't like both or many at once. That I must focus on one thing, and if attention draws from that thing it means I don't like it any more and have lost interest. •Replaying a part of a movie/song or rereading a paragraph a certain number of times until I'm satisfied •Worrying about stupid shit in general such as "If I ever met my favourite celebrity would they like me?" or "If I somehow become famous will the world like me or will they find me annoying?" or self-loathing, "If I wrote something would people think it good or would it make a good doorstop?" Anyway, that is all I have to say. But I feel like if I get this out I can look back on it years from now and see if anything's changed or if I'm still a head case ten years on. I hope I can help out a fellow OCD sufferer if they recognise themselves in any of the things I have listed above. Thank You!
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punkkris · 7 years
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ZombieTale Chapter Three - Reflections
Hey guys! Quick note here before the read. This chapter includes swearing, and torture. It gets a tad graphic, so if you're not into that, then I'm sorry to say that this fic series is not for you. I'm going to start getting more graphic as time goes on. So long story short, trigger warning. Without further ado, let us get started! _________ "C'mon Chara, we're gonna be late!" I yelled upstairs. I was already on edge since today was the day that we start the 6th grade. Over the last couple of years, the other monsters have started to find out who I really am on the inside—a wimpy little crybaby. Understandably, I didn't want to go today. Chara came sauntering down with a dull expression on her face. "There's no need to yell Asriel, I'm right here." she replied. She stared straight into my eyes for a good fifteen seconds before she shot me with a smile that made me slightly uncomfortable. "Y-you ready to go?" I asked in a futile attempt to calm my nerves. "Ooh you bet I am, fluffbutt. You have no idea." she replied slyly. "What do you mean?" I asked, slightly off-put by Chara’s mysterious demeanor. "I mean that I'm gonna make a statement. No one's gonna mess with me this year." Before I could once again ask her what she meant, she slipped past me and squeezed out the door. Our walk to school was unnaturally silent. Every now and then Chara would chuckle to herself, which was doing nothing for my nerves. We turned a corner and walked up to the school's front steps. As soon as we did, I turned to Chara. "So are you rea... Chara?!" The knife was in my gut faster than I could react. Chara was wearing a face that gave off a terrifying mixture of demonic and overjoyed. I screamed as loud as possible, but stood fast. Everyone immediately ran to us. At first I thought they were coming to help, but I soon realized that they all had knives. Similar to succumbing to a million mosquitoes, they all were on me in an instant, plunging their weapons into various spots on my body. It was a horrifying mess of blood, tears, screams, and devilish laughs. It took me a while to realize that it didn't hurt, which naturally freaked me out. I was screaming out of fear, not out of pain. When they all finished, Chara kicked me to my knees. She smiled at me with her shining blood red eyes, then stepped aside to reveal a face that brought me more pain than any amount of daggers could muster. "F-Frisk...help me..." Her eyes were cold. Her eyes were gleaming with the threat of tears. Her eyes were full of hatred. "No one can help you now," she whispered. "Your soul is hers now. And honestly," she leaned closer, her lips mere inches away from my ear. "You look pathetic, you little idiot." "B-but...I thought you loved me..." I asked. "Oh please," she responded. "That ship sailed ages ago." With that, her dagger found its way into my heart. As if that wasn't enough, Frisk proceeded to grab each knife that was affixed in my body, and turned them; it was like she was turning twenty different keys, each one unlocking more anguish from me, and betrayal from her. "I'm not sorry. And yes, my little Azzy, I do have something better to do. Anything is better than you," she concluded. Instant darkness. No feeling. No sound. No real discernable proof that I even exist at all. "Oh no...not this. Not the void. Not again," I thought. I've had this feeling before. "I-is anyone there? Didn't think so. Oh well it was worth a shot anyway." I couldn't seem to find any reason as to why I was here again. "Why am I here," I thought aloud. "Why am—wait...I remember...I remember the sun. And Frisk. Yes that's right. We were free. I was so happy. Then there was that stupid machine. The hole in my gut. The pain—oh the pain! And then...Wait a second. I'm dead. I'm dead again. But I can't be. Things were finally good again! After sixty-six damn years my life was finally fucking bearable!" I shouted, cursed, screamed, yelled, thrashed, did all I could to show my frustration and anger. All of a sudden, I was blinded by light. I try to shield my eyes from the light, but it seems to pass through my hands. Polar opposites. It's like I'm on the other side of the world. Everything was so white. I was sitting in a chair that slightly resembled one for dentist operations. That thought made me instantly nervous, but I couldn't move. There were no physical restraints, so I deduced that I was being held by magic. "Why am I here, Chara?" I asked to the seemingly empty room. At the mention of her name, Chara apparated into view. "You know why you're here, brother. You're dead, don't you remember?" She replied, a hint of hostility scratching the surface of her tone. "But why here? Why not the void? It's where I went last time," I looked down at my feet. Chara gave a full-hearted smile. "Maybe you should be asking yourself. After all, you're the one in control of you. Right?" Her smile grew wicked. "Well, until now, that is." As I saw Chara’s arm snap towards me I felt instant and colossal pain. It was like I could feel my heart taking itself apart and single-handedly destroying my sea of organs. "How does it feel, you pathetic little wretch?" I heard her ask in between my cries. "Does it feel like punishment? Madness? Maybe you're finally learning your place." She stopped and leaned in close to more intimate boundaries. "Or just maybe, I am your salvation." She left that theory hanging in the air before returning to the torturous pain. Every instant was that of a millennia. Every intake of air was fire, and every exhale, needles and knives. Speaking of fire, the next thing I noticed was the Jerry can of gasoline that Chara was toting. "Oh we'll get to that in a second. Something else to do first," she said, evidently noticing my worried glances. She then brought out her ever-present knife. Walking up to me, her grin grew more sinister, not unlike the smile of a demon. "You always did like flowers, right? Well let's make sure you always remember that shall we?" She rhetorically asked me before raising up her knife. "Wait—" I tried to beg. But my pleas fell on deaf ears. Deaf, devilish, hate-fueled ears. Faster than the blink of an eye, the knife was in my stomach and moving, carving the shape of a golden flower. "Oh," she said add she finished her drawing. "Sorry does that hurt? Here, let me fix that for you." She dropped the knife and closes her eyes, clearly focusing on something. Then, as if it were even possible, the pain mutated into something even more agonizing. I looked down and saw the formation of curves and lines morph together to make one long slanted cut across my belly. This apparently came as an opportunity for Chara. She continued to toy with me. "Now what have we got here? A nice little hand warmer? Let's try it out shall we?" I've seen some horrible things. Hell, I've done half of them. But this…this took it way too far. Chara shoved her hands through my stomach, enjoying every second of my torment. And if it wasn't enough hell to go through, she started to part the red sea that was my body. There was a visible hole all through my abdomen. She paused for a brief moment. Chara needed to chortle away her insanity, which sucks because it gave me a false sense of hope. For a moment I thought she was done. I wanted her to walk away and let me be. That's when she did what I was waiting for. Gasoline can in hand, she doused me all over in the flammable liquid, then took out a box of matches. With what little power I had left, I kicked the box out of her hand, but not before she retrieved a single match. One is all it takes. "That's only fair considering what I'm about to do to you!" She responded. ~"Asriel!”~ Striking the match, she threw it onto the ground in front of me; all in one fluid motion. It made me wonder if she'd done this a lot. ~"Can you hear me? Fight back!"~ It didn't take long for the flame to reach my fur. I tried to flinch away from the fire, but to no avail. I sat in misery is the pyre engulfed my body. It was easily the worst thing I've felt in my whole existence. "Hahaha! How does it feel Asriel? Huh? Tell me, Asriel!” "Tell me! Come on! Asriel!" ~"Asriel”~ "Asriel!" ~"ASRIEL!"~ "ASRIEL!" —————————— I need to find him. That's all that matters right now. Not the blood all over my shirt. Not the fact that my ulna is sticking out in an alarming angle. Only him. How did this even happen? We were standing in a row, watching the sunset. It was perfect; not a cloud in the sky. We told each other how much we loved the view, then Asgore asked me to be the ambassador between humans and monsters. After I agreed to it, I glanced over to Asriel to see how he was holding up. He seemed to be the kind of guy that would get overwhelmed by new sights. Then the blast came. I woke up in clearing with everyone else save Asriel. I looked around and got a check on my surroundings. I checked myself first and noticed that my arm was broken. It hurt like hell, so I tried to summon a little determination to ease the pain. But I couldn’t find it in me so I just moved on. My shirt was covered in blood, and my shorts were torn, but that was about it. Sans and Papyrus were enveloped in a translucent blue ball, and seemingly unharmed. Alphys was covered in cuts, and Undyne was wrapping a torn piece of her shirt around her calf. Toriel was hovering over Asgore, healing him from the looks of it. Everyone was alive and accounted for except for Asriel. I ran of to go find him. “ASRIEL!” I shouted for what felt like the hundredth time. If my body would allow it I'd be running right now. But I gotta work with the hand I'm dealt. All I have to do is find him and take him back to Toriel. She’ll do the rest, and will probably make me feel a tad better, physically and mentally. But finding the goat monster was proving to be a fairly taxing challenge. That didn’t make me even think about abandoning my search in the slightest, though. Asriel means way too much to me. I'm close to passing out from pain alone. Edging on the brink of consciousness, I catch glimpse of a white foot behind a bush. “Asriel!” I exclaim as I run to the foot. “I'm so glad I found yo-” I'm stopped dead in my tracks. What I was expecting to see was broken bones, maybe a gash or two. But not this… It's not even Asriel. It's a human. On another human. And at first I thought the moving one was giving CPR. But he wasn't. He was eating...something. Very loudly. I inched closer to find out what was so damn tasty that he wasn't saving the poor man. That's when my life changed for the remainder of my days. The moment that was way past the point of no return. The only point in my life I wish never happened. I ran away from the bush and continued my search for my dear friend. After shouting his name a couple more times, I heard some mumbling. I stumble towards the source of the noise and fall to my knees in relief. I've found him! Unconscious but alive. I pick him up and fireman’s carry him for a couple of yards. After I lose a bit more energy, reposition him to better suit my comfort. Now to get back to the group. Taking a different path so as to avoid my previous encounter, I carried Asriel back to the clearing we were stationed at. Toriel used her magic and healed me up and sealed the gaping hole in Asriel’s center. And then we waited in anxious, painful silence. After several minutes I grew too nervous. I broke down and clutched Asriel as tight as I could. “Asriel,” I cried. “Can you hear me? Fight back.” it was getting harder to control my sobs and outbursts. “Asriel!” I saw his foot twitch. He was coming back. “ASRIEL!” I screamed through my tears. He opened his eyes and closed them again. After coughing and shaking for a hot moment, he reopened his eyes. “Asriel, I'm here. Can you speak?” I asked. His lips parted, and alongside the blood and spit that came out, he muttered one single word...A name… “Chara…”
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greatgoregalore · 5 years
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oh noh john!
Listen! The stories I throw on this blog aren’t happy stories. A lot of these are meant to make your blood boil in frustration. Especially the Blaze ones. You’ll probably bounce between ‘hug the poor boy plz’ and ‘can I punch him’ a lot. Well if you’re anything like me that is.
They tend to deal with a lot of heavier issues, such as discrimination, the different types of abuse, stuff like that.  
This particular story includes violence, death, puking.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Blaze was grappling with an opponent when a shot rings in his ears. He hears John call out behind him, and Blaze turns. John’s holding his midsection, blood dripping between his fingers, and his eyes turn black as a portal opens under him. Blaze gets a solid punch to the jaw from his opponent that sends him stumbling back. He scrambles to his feet and dives after John.
He lands on the other side shoulder first and rolls. The impact jars him a bit and his arm goes numb, but he’s quick to get to his knees and locate John about 3 feet away, laying crookedly on blue-green grass. 
Blaze lunges forward to him and looks him over. John’s passed out, but his chest is rising and falling shallowly. Though the breathing sounds very wrong. His leg looks like it broke in the fall. His mid-right side of the chest is still bleeding - probably punctured a lung. That explains the weird breathing sounds. It seems hard enough to breathe in general here, though Blaze can’t tell if that’s because of the atmosphere or because of panic. The smell of blood is thick enough to be suffocating on it’s own. 
He isn’t a doctor, he has no way of leaving this place with John unconscious, and it’s impossible to know if this new place is even inhabited. The sun is bright overhead, but he’s not burning up and dying, which means it couldn’t be Earth. Alternate dimension? He doesn’t know what any of the plants are or what they do and whether they’d heal or poison. Plus a punctured lung is really bad news even when you’re in a hospital with proper supplies around. 
Which means only one choice. The sooner Blaze did it, the higher chance John had of waking up again. He didn’t dwell on the question of ‘should’ - John had said he’d be fine with it when the topic was brought up back when they first became teammates. 
Blaze starts getting feeling back in his arm with pins and needles. Blaze lifts his own wrist to his mouth and bites, sucking a bit of his blood into his hollow fangs, and then lifts John’s wrist and injects it into his veins.
Then he gets to work on setting the broken leg with what he could find around. There were only a couple flimsy branches that broke easily, but lots of vines. It’s good enough.
Afterwards, he steals himself for the hardest task - getting the bullet out. He saved that for last, since he wanted to keep his hands dry for setting the leg and wait until he had full feeling in his arm for more delicate work. John had stopped breathing entirely by now, which also helped. Blaze lifts up John’s lip a little so he can keep an eye on his teeth. If this is gonna work, they’re going to start changing soon. He’d better hurry up before that happened, because changing teeth meant changing lots of things internally and the bullet could get lost. Teeth were first though.
Blaze pulls John’s shirt up to expose the bullet wound and starts the attempt to remove the bullet.
When he finishes with that task, Blaze pulls off Johns clothes except for his boxer shorts and sets them a few feet away. It’s a bit chilly, but he’s pretty sure John would thank him for that later. Then he pushes John over onto his side and positions his knees so he’s situated in the standard don’t-choke-on-your-vomit-while-you’re-unconscious position. And finally, with all the important tasks done, Blaze sits down and lets himself cry. 
The sun sets and two moons rise within the hour - one with a slight purple tinge to it, and one with a slight blue tinge to it. Definitely not Earth. Blaze is sitting back and just finishing with licking his hands clean when John wakes up. 
Oh boy. 
Here we go. 
John sits up suddenly and starts coughing non-stop. Wet, thick, hacking sounds. He moves to his hands and knees and starts puking into the blue-green grass. Again. And Again. And again. It isn’t pretty. John has it rougher than Blaze when he became a vamp. John has to clear out both his lungs and his guts, and had actually eaten food earlier today. 
When John stops, he collapses to the side and passes out again. Blaze comes back over and moves John a couple feet away, making sure to be careful with the broken leg. He takes a moment to figure out what to clean John up with, and then decides to sacrifice John’s coat. He empties out the pockets first of course. There’s lots. And lot’s. Of miniaturized items. He makes sure to put them in a place where they won’t get lost. Blaze cleans John off with the coat and then repositions him on his side and takes a couple steps back. 
They go through that cycle a few more times, and it gets easier and less severe each time.
John sits up again, coughs a few more times, and glances over at Blaze with a weak smile. “Thank you,” John signs to Blaze using French sign language. 
“Throat hurts too much for talking?”
John nods a little bit. 
“Body report? Dizzy, pain, disconnected, weird indescribable feelings?”
John pauses for a second, shrugs, and signs his reply sorta sluggishly. “Everything hurts in different ways for different reasons. Nauseous still. And dizzy, yeah. Feel like I pulled 2 all-nighters in a row and had a double shot of whiskey on top of it. Having trouble with getting my eyes to focus…. Where are we anyway?”
“I don’t fuckin’ know. Wherever your portal took us. Dooon’t think it’s earth though. There’s two moons here. And when the sun was up, it didn’t hurt me. Didn’t notice that until after it would’ve killed me though - too focused on making sure you were alright. Fckin’ ‘ell, what were you thinking, getting shot like that and then disappearing off to another world.”
John stops to process that, looks around, and then signs to Blaze. “Oh. I’ve been here before. I had a nightmare once and I woke up here. I recognize that stump over there. There were three completely glass-like transparent people that found me and we attempted conversation for a bit before I went home. It was mostly one-sided. They understood me, but I couldn’t understand them at all, which was a weird experience since normally it’s the other way around. They had really pretty voices though.”
“Transparent? Does that mean you could see their guts?”
“Nope. No guts.”
“Not even a brain?”
“Nope.”
“Weiiiiiirdddd.”
John seems to realize something. “How are we gonna get home? Vamps can’t use magic, right?”
“...Well shit.”
------
John concentrates and tries to open a portal home, but it doesn’t work. Everything feels wrong in his head, and it doesn’t click anymore. After having this constant buzzing in the back of his head for decades, the silence is deafening. He looks up to Blaze and shakes his head. The loss of his magic abilities was quite a blow, and with everything else, it was just. A lot. He’d spent his entire life studying spellwork and the languages necessary for it. Not to mention it’s entirely possible that he could never go home again. His head hurt, his jaw hurt, his throat hurt, his chest hurt, his bullet wound hurt, his stomach hurt, his leg hurt, everything hurt and ached. He brings his knees up, buries his face in his arms, and starts crying.
Blaze comes over and sits next to him and puts an arm around John’s shoulders. John leans into him and sobs even harder and starts shaking. 
“Hey, it’ll be alright.... Shhh shhh, just breathe. In, out, one, two. I’m here…. It’s all gonna be okay….” Blaze says soothingly. 
It takes a long time, but John slowly calms down and just sits there with Blaze for a while. And a little while longer. 
Eventually he sits back and gives Blaze another small smile. “Thanks. Sorry, I -” John says, trying his voice out again. It’s rough and hurts, so he switches back to French sign language. “Sorry about that. I just-”
“Nuh-uh-uh, none of that. No sorries. Honestly though, I’m just surprised you didn’t start crying sooner. I bawled like a fuckin’ baby when I turned into a vamp, and it was nowhere near as hard as this.”
John looks embarrassed and fidgets. 
“Come to think of it, pretty sure this is the first time I’ve ever seen you cry.”
John looks sheepish. “Probably.”
“Like shit man. It’s about time. When you were blind after a screwy binding, coming out as trans to a bloody douche like me, all those terrifying moments out in the field, getting stabbed in the leg, hopping through the multiverse and seeing messed up stuff, even those rare occasions where you did start to seriously panic, nothin’! How many times have you sat there and consoled me while I was freakin’ out even though we just went through the same thing and you were fine? Absolute insanity.” 
John shrugs. “I must be manlier than you then.”
“Psh. Yeah right. I got more muscle than you.”
“Says the underweight stick to the nerd.”
“Hey, that was a cheap shot. It’s hard to bulk up when you can’t eat much.” 
“Oh yeah…. Oooooh noooooo. I’m never gonna be able to enjoy the taste of chocolate again am I.”
“Nope.”
“Icecream?”
“Nope.”
“Cheese.”
“Nope.”
“Aw man. That’s gotta be the biggest loss of all.”
“You said the people you met here were glass-like and had no internal workings?”
“Oh. Yeah?”
“Let’s hope the animals aren’t like that too.”
“Why- oh. Right. Food.”
“Hungry yet, or still nauseous?”
John is a mix of awkward, embarrassed, and self conscious. “Both?”
“It’s one thing to be fine with someone else drinking blood, and another to actually think of yourself doing that, eh?”
John looks guilty.
Blaze shrugs. “Kinda thought so. Took awhile for me to get used to too.”
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jamieloveharris · 5 years
Text
four words.
“there’s no heartbeat today. i’m so sorry.” 
those four words. the weight they hold and the heartbreak they bring. you just don’t think it will happen to you, especially not two times in a row. that’s not how our God works right? he won’t put us through this again. what did we do to deserve this? why us? why can teenagers get pregnant on accident who don’t even want the baby and people who couldn’t want it more have to suffer like this? it just seems so unfair. i understand how unhealthy it is to think this way, but it’s also just the reality of the situation and the real thoughts you have. it’s hard to find a starting point to talk about this because emotionally, you’re all over the place. sadness, anger, confusion, unfairness, bitterness, selfish, devastated. it’s hard to compartmentalize how you feel when you feel so many different things all at once. you’re never taught how to deal with grief and honestly, i think we all deal with it very differently. and there’s not a right or wrong way.
let me back up and start from the beginning. writing has always been an outlet for me (not that I do it much, but in my head I’ve written a ton ;) ) . I don’t know that it’s the right time to share our story, but is there ever? i feel like miscarriage is a topic that’s not talked about enough because it’s just hard. what do you say to someone dealing with it? how do you deal with it if you’re the one going through it? why does it happen? why can’t they give me an answer? a lot of times i think as humans, we avoid hard discussions because it’s just easier. and i know i’m guilty of that a hundred times over but now that i’m in this position, it’s become more important to be open about it even if it’s hard and even if it’s very raw emotion. chris & i knew we wanted kids quickly after we got married. we weren’t trying super hard, but we weren’t not trying either. when we found on february 7th, i was in complete shock and even more excitement. waiting for him to get home that day truly felt like the longest day of my life because i had to keep it to myself alllll day long (like literally from about 9am until 8pm when he got home from a work event). we had plans to go to the Biltmore Estate the next day and all weekend we couldn’t stop talking about it. planning out our future, and how the rest of 2019 would look. there’s just no words to explain it. fast forward a week and all of our plans were shattered just that quick. Sorry for TMI, but I started bleeding and hurting, and didn’t stop. I knew what was happening right away. I went to the dr as soon as I could and it was true. we weren’t going to have a baby anymore. you truly feel like your heart is ripped right out of you. we only knew a WEEK, but the love you develop that quickly for a child you’ve never met cannot be explained. you just instinctively make every decision from the moment you find out to do what’s best for your child. then it’s gone. it was confirmed on valentines day and the next 5-7 days were just pure hell in all honesty. physically and emotionally. you don’t know what to say or do or think. you also realize how common it is, and for all the stories you’ve heard of those people you know, and those you don’t who have gone through this, you realize you are now one of them. i TRULY believe that unless you have actually gone through it you cannot understand. you can empathize, hurt for someone, be unbelievably sad and sorry for them, but you cant fully understand. and i say that from experience of having so many friends and/or family go through it. you say all the right things but it doesn’t help. yes, you know “it’ll be okay one day,” and “i’m so sorry, we’re thinking of you”, and you do appreciate all of the love and support you get but you’re also just so sad. 
fast forward again to march 22. we were close to closing on a new house and moving. i had not had a cycle yet, but that wasn’t abnormal since it can take your body 4-6 weeks to get back to “normal.” I had a pregnancy test in the closet from last time and just randomly took it. I really don’t know why and had exactly zero reasons to think i was pregnant. i put it down and started packing and kind of forgotten i had taken it. i walked back in and almost fell out on the floor. there was NO WAY. I mean, not a chance right? pregnant?!? I hadn’t even had a cycle and it had just been a few weeks. google, google, google. okay it can happen. what the WHAT? gosh we are so blessed, God knew i needed something to keep me going. these are the thoughts you have. again, i had to wait for chris to get home. i laid it on the table and when he looked at it, i actually got kind of upset because he thought i was lying and playing a joke on him (for reference: this would never be a funny joke to anyone, EVER. please dont try and do aprils fools jokes about pregnancy.) he’s like, we have to go to the store right now and buy 10 more tests, this can’t be right, it’s probably “leftover” from last time (lol, good try but no). so we went and it was true. i immediately called the dr and scheduled an appointment because I needed extra confirmation. and it was true, we were having a baby! due the week of thanksgiving. how THANKFUL are we? the holidays are amazing enough, but with a new baby? what a blessing. 
you go through a lot of anxiety after you come down from the high. every day you’re nervous. every day you think you’re going to lose it again. every time you go to the bathroom you pray you’re not bleeding. you want to enjoy it and soak it all up, but you also want to protect yourself from heartbreak again. i didn’t tell many people. i wouldn’t even let chris tell his mom or sister because I didn’t want to “jinx” it. sounds crazy and I get that, but you truly try and do anything you can to make sure it doesn’t happen again. you know that doesnt really prevent it but you just can’t help it. then it happens, and all of your worst fears come true again. it was last thursday afternoon and again, i started bleeding but just a little. and no pain. i was terrified and called the dr immediately and said I need to come in today. i don’t care what has to happen but i just need to know everything is okay. it wasn’t okay. i rushed there as quickly as I could. they tried to find the heartbeat on the doppler from the outside of my stomach but i was early still, almost 11 weeks, so she wasn’t concerned at all since you normally can’t hear it externally yet anyway. i saw a dr (not my normal one) - she checked me and said my cervix was completely closed and i was most likely completely fine, “sometimes pregnant women just bleed.” WHEW, WE’RE OKAY. then i went to ultrasound feeling pretty optimistic. i felt so silly rushing down there because i was totally fine right. they tried to find the baby from the outside but my uterus is tilted so it was blocking it. they did a vaginal ultrasound and then i heard the four words. i was in shock. I didn’t say anything for probably 30 seconds and even then, i just cried. she took me back to the drs office and we just cried together for a long time. i just couldn’t believe it was real. but we had to talk about next steps and I had to have a D&C. it was late in the afternoon and scheduling was gone for the day so i would have to wait until monday. i couldn’t imagine waiting 4 days knowing what was going on inside of me but i didn’t have a choice. i dont even remember driving the hour home. i just cried. first thing friday i called scheduling and thankfully they were able to get me in that afternoon. it sounds very harsh, but i couldn’t help but feeling like i just wanted it out of me. i couldnt deal with the pain i had last time all weekend. i couldnt deal with the mental side of it for 4 days. and in just a few hours, i’m getting wheeled back into surgery and 11 minutes later, there is no longer a baby inside of me. and then in another hour, we’re on the way home and it’s just back to normal life but no more holiday baby, and no more telling everyone the good news. mother’s day is this weekend, and we had planned to tell chris’ mom. we COULDNT WAIT. just the night before I miscarried, i got on etsy and ordered cute little “big cousin” shirts for my nieces and nephew.they came in today. i can’t bring myself to open them, so i just put them in the closet. i was starting to feel a little less anxious last week, because i was so close to being out of the first trimester. i just knew it was going to be okay this time and all that we had hoped for was going to happen. 
i wish this was a happy ending, inspiring post on why to not give up. i wish i could say the things like, “we now understand why we had to go through all of this pain,” or “all the heartbreak was worth it for our miracle”, and the list goes on. i’m not there. I don’t understand why. It doesn’t make sense to me right now. what I can say is that ONE DAY, i do think it will, and i do think we’ll be able to say those words but that day is not today. i think so often when people share their stories, it’s after they’re healed (as much as you can heal after something like this), and they have a happy story to report. i think it’s so important to understand there is an in between period as well and that it’s okay to not be okay in that time. i truly don’t know what’s next. i can’t say that we will ever be able to tell that happy story with certainty. i do hope & pray every day we can but the truth is that i don’t know. i’ve found myself almost feeling guilty for sharing this, because so many couples go through so much more and still may not have their miracle. so many have 10 miscarriages, and spend thousands and thousands on IVF, and their bodies are basically a needle cushion from all of the shots, and their life revolves around trying to create a life that they so badly want and here we are, having suffered through 2 miscarriages and i am writing like we’ve had it so bad.on the flip side, the truth is that a loss is a loss. whether it’s one baby when you were 6 weeks pregnant, or 8 babies when you were 12 weeks pregnant, the heartache is the same. i am so so sorry for all of those women who have gone through this, for those who are currently going through it, and for those who will go through it in the future. you are not alone. 
i was so nervous to reach out and share with people, even those i know had gone through it. i can’t explain how much it helps to just talk about it and allow someone to listen to you, even if they don’t have the words to comfort you or make it better. truthfully, nothing will make it better except maybe time. maybe this time next month i’ll be a little less sad, maybe i won’t cry when i think about it. but maybe i will - and that’s okay too. 
for whatever reason i also feel like it’s important for me to say that i’m choosing to share this because i hope that maybe just one person will read it, and feel encouraged to talk about what they’re going through or know that people do love you, and are always there for you even when you feel like you couldn’t be more alone. if there is someone experiencing what I have, I hope they’ll reach out and I hope that I can pay it forward to someone what so many have done for me during these last few months. i can say with 100% fact that you are truly not going through this by yourself and no one should ever have to. i could never put into words how thankful i am for my support system and those who have known about this journey and who have checked in on me everyday, and prayed for us, and cried with us. it does not go unnoticed. so if you have been a part of that this far - thank you :) 
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