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5-falsehoods-phonated · 4 years

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Requested as a continuation of a headcannon by @hhh-angels if Logan had OCD and used plants to cope, with sprinkled in Logicality. Here is a one shot that was supposed to a lot shorter but I have no self control.

Wilting

Warnings: OCD, emotional break down, dead plant. If there's other let me know.

Trigger warnings: compulsive checking, emotional break down.

Ships: logicality

Word count: 2,496

"I gotta say Specs, I'm almost jealous that this is your room and not mine. Never pegged you for a Nature Nerd."

"Lay off Princey, we all have our habits."

Logan hummed in amused agreement from his place at his desk, smiling as a light breeze ruffled through the papers on its surface though not hard enough to send his organization to the literal wind. His room had been a collaborative effort after Patton had encouraged him to open up to the others more, making voicing his needs and breaching communication gaps much easier with the supportive side at his back. Roman had been the first to know, as Logan did not have the creative powers to make the changes he wanted. With minimal teasing, the princely side had "fulfilled his royal duty as a dear friend" to help make the layout changes he had been struggling to realize. Now his room was completely transformed and he absolutely loved it.

The shelves full of books and binders were still there, but now their sides were crawling with carefully maintained vines of every variety. Wisteria climbed up the sides of a shelf closest to him, while a grape vine had steadily curled up towards the ceiling in a corner, supported by carefully placed pegs embedded in the walls. The door was framed by a hyacinth bean vine that had already started to flower thanks to the power of the mind scape. His ceiling was taller, reaching 10 feet around the right edges of the room to accommodate for the climbing plants, glow in the dark star stickers still stuck to the plaster. Beyond that however, it faded into infinity.

The way Roman had reconstructed made it so a controlled portion of the imagination was contained within his room, a feat he was quite proud of and had offered to work into the others' room as well if they wish. This meant that the ceiling faded into an expanse of sky that loosely mirrored outside reality, going so far as to mimic an impossibly clear sky at night in which the colors of the galaxy could be on full display. This also meant there was room for a wide expanse of flowers that thrived better in an outside environment, and trees as far as the eye could see in every variety from cedars to cherry blossoms, though he hadn't ventured too far yet. Closer to his actual room he still kept and maintained his succulents on another shelf, the one Patton had gifted him so long ago still growing strong and placed proudly in the middle.

Logan was brought back from his thoughts as he felt a warm hand lay itself gently on his shoulder, prompting him to look up into the face of his loving boyfriend. They had established a tentative relationship after Patton had been led into his room for the first time for an impromptu thank-you-for-starting-my-plant-obsession cuddle session. His obsessive checking was still there, Logan realistically didn't expect it to go away so suddenly, if at all. But the stress that came with it was practically non-existent, especially once he entered his room to care for his lovely greenery. He felt more at ease, more heard, more cared for, than he had in years, and he had Patton to thank for easing him into a less stressful routine the way that he had.

Patton leaned forward and plucked the pen out of Logan's hands, spinning the chair around as he did and plopping down in his lap. "No more work, Lo. Enjoy the scenery."

And Logan really couldn't object to that could he? Late afternoon sunlight lit up the room, Roman was busy sketching something or other into a thickly bound and worn book, and Virgil was resting quietly under one of the trees nearby, face relaxed as he let the rooms ambience wash over him. Roman really had outdone himself.

Logan leaned back in the chair, wrapping his arms around Patton's middle and dragging him back with him to rest his chin on his shoulder. Patton giggled quietly as he adjusted slightly to make them both more comfortable, finally relaxing all the way to enjoy the fragrant breeze blowing around them.

------

"Hey, Lo? I think this one might be wilting."

Logan jerked his head back from where he had been carefully testing the soil saturation of his cactuses, quickly making his way over to Patton who had been helping water the controlled garden at the edge of his room. Yellow lilies were growing in this particular section, the one in question had turned a pale brown in color, its sickly stem barely able to hold itself up. It was clear it was past the point of saving, though with his careful care he couldn't fathom how its suffering had escaped his notice for so long. His hand tapped a nervous rhythm on his thigh, a steady 1 2 1 2 count that calmed his anxiety somewhat.

"That's...only natural, I suppose. Things die, I hadn't expected them to in the mind scape but I suppose Roman paid close attention to detail when making this, which I cannot fault him for."

Patton eyed him closely. "Are you sure?"

"Of course." The small lie slipped out easily, making him wince slightly. It really wasn't that big of a deal...at least it shouldn't be. It was just...he was so careful, and he knew Patton was as well, and the flowers were so pretty and were growing so healthily but...it didn't matter. Plucking it gently out of the bed , he waved it away and patted over the place it had once stood, smoothing out the dirt neatly. "There. No harm done."

Patton still looked worried, but wisely decided not to say anything.

-----

Over the course of two weeks flowers continued to wilt in and out of the contained garden space. It really shouldn't have mattered but Logan didn't understand what he could be doing wrong. The routine hadn't changed, he'd done countless hours of research trying to figure out what could possibly be the problem but could deduce nothing. Stress was creeping into the one place it had never been and it was setting him on edge, his compulsive checking resurfacing after months of staying under control. Locks. Yes. Microwave. Yes. Thermostat. Were the knives put away properly in the block? Was the coffee table moved just this way so that no one tripped getting up from the couch? Odd, new compulsions swarmed his mind in the dead of night. Were the carpets loose on the stairs? That would be a major safety hazard, that needs checked. What about the banister? Check. Recheck. The microwave really was unplugged right? Check. Check. What about the windows, they were shut weren't they?

Check.

Recheck.

Check.

"Sweetheart, what are you doing up?" Logan looked up from his current activity: pulling at the carpet at the bottom of the stairs to see if it was loose. It wasn't. He'd checked and made sure. But he had to check again. To be sure.

"Lo-"

"No. I have to finish checking."

"How many times have you pulled that section?"

Logan's face heated but he continued anyway, Patton standing at the top of the stairs patiently waiting. He knew this was important to Logan and he respected it. But it was currently 3AM and he had no idea how long Logan had been up before this.

He watched as the taller man stood up slowly and made his way to the kitchen, where Patton quickly followed.

"I have to check the microwave."

"Logan you checked that before bed didn't you?"

"I have to make sure."

"Logan-"

The side in question whirled around. "No! I have to check! I have control over this, I can check and recheck and if everything's fine then everything is fine! I can monitor this! This-" he waved in agitation at the still unplugged microwave. "-makes sense!"

Logan had circles under his eyes that could put Virgil's eyeshadow to shame and his exhaustion was made apparent with his swaying body throughout his speech. Slowly, carefully, Patton reached out and took Logan's hands in his, squeezing them gently and nodding in understanding.

"I'm not mad at you. And I'm not asking you to stop okay? I just want you to sleep, you look exhausted."

Looking back at the microwave, Logan slowly nodded, slumping forward slightly and taking calming breaths. "Okay."

Patton nodded again. "Okay."

-----------

The next day was greeted with a slightly better mood. There were no obligations to fulfill, so the morning had been spent catching a couple more hours of much needed sleep at the request of Patton and enough cuddles and kisses to last him a month, not that he would ever have enough. Today the cactuses and succulents needed watered and though he was still on edge he was looking forward to the calming activity.

He hummed slightly as he took up the small watering can used for the small plants and smiled over at Patton who was busy guiding one of the vines to grip another pike in the wall. Making his way to the shelf his simple tune caught dead in his throat, watering can forgotten as his grip slackened and it spilled across the hardwood floor.

"Are you okay? What's the matter?" Patton rushed to his side, and getting no response, followed his lovers line of sight to the middle of the shelf.

Wilted, dried and brown, the very first succulent plant Patton had given him was spread out dead in its pot, a far cry from the healthy green it had been just the day before.

He quickly looked back to Logan, any words of consolation dying in his throat as he saw the tears running down the others cheeks. He watched helplessly as the other strode forward and took the pot in his hands, folding himself down around it with shaking shoulders. Only when Patton heard the faint sobs becoming louder did he step forward carefully to crouch down next to him.

"Logan?"

"This was...you gave this to me....this was the first one and now it's gone and I DON'T KNOW WHAT I DID!" Gasping sobs escaped him as his shoulders shook even more, desperately gripping to the plant pot as if squeezing it hard enough would bring the plant itself back to life. Patton gently tugged Logan into him, resting his head against his chest as the other sobbed his heart out. His mind raced even as he began rocking them, gently whispering words he hoped were comforting down to the other.

Roman wouldn't speed up the rate of decay like this and Virgil would never play a prank this cruel. They and Patton were the only ones with the permission to come into Logan's spot in the Imagination, which had to be given to enter at all. The only side that might not need it....

------

Patton gently placed Logan's limp form on the bed, the other having cried himself to the point of exhaustion after a nearly hour long breakdown. His face hardened as he sunk out, popping up in Thomas's living room.

"Oh hey Patton, wha-"

"Hey kiddo, where's Remus?"

Thomas squinted in confusion, pausing whatever show he was watching to really look at his moral side. Patton's cardigan was gone and there was a large wet spot on the top of his polo. His clothes were otherwise rumpled but his face was the most worrying. Hard and set in a way he had never seen on the normally cheery side his concern only grew.

"I don't know. Did something happen?"

"Summon him please."

Not daring to question it, Thomas quickly stood up. "Remus!"

The Duke appeared behind the T.V., cursing as he took in his surroundings.

"I appreciate the invitation Thomas, but no thank you-"

"Too bad." Before Remus could sink out, Patton had a fistful of his sash and they disappeared together, leaving Thomas staring confusedly at the spot they had left.

--------

"Do you have any idea what you've done, Remus?" Patton maintained his hold on the Duke, staring at him with an intensity that made Remus of all sides swallow the words that immediately rose up and actually think over his response.

"Well...normally it's a question of who, not what, so I'd say I haven't the faintest idea what you're referring to." Trying for vulgar humor to make the apparently very pissed off moral side let him go, his stomach sunk only deeper as Patton's face only darkened further.

"Logan's. Plants. What did you do. To Logan's. Plants."

Remus' eyebrow quirked in confusion. He knew now of course what Patton was talking about. But his prank was harmless! ...right? Why would he care so much about the nerds newest passion project? He decided to voice as much.

"All it was was a little realism! Roman had made the whole setup so perfect and boring. All I did was liven it up a bit. By...you know...killing....them?" The longer he spoke the more confidence left him. He wasn't scared of Patton, definitely not. Puppy and kitten loving Patton who definitely didn't have a look on his face that would set fire to the world if it were allowed to smoulder.

"Here's what you're going to do. You're going to fix the plants. You're going to wait here until Logan wakes up and apologize. You'll do it without complaint. Without sex jokes or vulgar language. And it will be genuine. After which, you will never touch anything in Logan's room without explicit permission from Logan himself. Are. We. Clear."

Swallowing thickly, Remus could only nod as he was finally let go, the fun loving father figure leaving him to stare off in chastised fear of ever daring to cross Morality again.

------

Logan sat back in his desk chair, sighing contentedly as a soft breeze fluffed out his hair. Patton sat behind him on the bed, gently scratching at Logan's scalp as he used his other hand to mindlessly color another cat in his book. Roman sat against a tree with Virgil, scowling playfully at the emo's choice in music while they shared a pair of headphones, Virgil hissing quietly about it being his turn and to "Suck it up, Princey."

"Remus, leave them alone." The Duke pouted before sitting back and busying himself with a worn sketchbook instead, knowing where the line was when he was allowed in Logan's room. His plants thrived properly now, his stress free zone rejuvenated with the knowledge it would stay that way. He still didn't know what had prompted Remus to play the cruel joke in the first place, nor what had made him fix everything and, according to Roman, give his first genuine apology.

As fingers continued to brush through his hair, he mentally shrugged and relaxed into the touch. In this instance at least, he felt it was okay not to know.

This work is also available on my AO3!

Please do not tag as unsympathetic sides or tw Remus. Thank you.

#sanders sides #sanders sides headcanon #logan sanders #patton sanders #thomas sanders #roman and remus #roman sanders #remus sanders #ao3 #fic

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shiro-0197 · 3 years

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Oh I hope you guys do get to have a party sometime soon!! That'd be so exciting. And grrr yes I know the feeling. If it weren't for friends, I'd be happy to study at home tbh :(

aaah yes I understand that!! Tho wow you're so cute istg 😭😭 hmm, for me, I guess it would be any job related to small kids?? Like children under 8? Because I really don't have the patience to deal with children. But I love jobs with customer service, so we're opposites hehe >.< Tho my favourite would be if I could do something entrepreneurial. I haven't thought of this much but I hope to be able to after my exams. and I'm also very sure you'll find the job perfect for you in the future!! That way you'll actually enjoy doing it, because it plays to your strengths :')

NO EXCUSE ME YOU'RE SO CUTE. I find Hinata ADORABLE for that, and the fact that you do that too?? Cute as hell 😭💖

Idon't fluster my friends at all, they know me too well. But there was a new guy who sat in front of me, last year, and everytime I flirted with him, he got soooo flustered. So that was really cute to me. I hope we'll still sit near each other this year too :) and aaah your flirting must've been so sweet for him to stutter. Not surprised. I'd probably react the same way to you😭😣

I'm sorry 🥺🥺 >.< But I'll definitely remember it now!! And awww dumplings are literally so wonderful. They're like tiny little packages with everything delicious inside them. sounds to me like you'd like Chinese cuisine tbh 😣😣💖💖

good for you, you're literally the ideal friend grrr I'm so proud to have you. I'm that irresponsible friend, sometimes. And other times I'm like the most responsible person on the planet. Depends on the task and day, I suppose xD

oh noooo please don't worry about it >:(( it was just a random thing I saw on Wikipedia.

awww I see! I never really owned all those books either hehe... I borrowed the Percy Jackson series from a friend at first (and now I'm slowly saving up to buy the entire collection, one book at a time), and I downloaded the e-book for Harry potter. I'm pretty good at downloading free pdfs online (which really isn't something I should be proud of, but oh well) and if you ever need a book, do let me know :> I'd be happy to email it to you xD 💖💖💖

Not surprising at all. Your love for cheese is so endearing to me.

AYO‼️‼️ REMINDER FOR SHIRO; PLEASE DRINK YOUR WATER SIR, OR I'LL FLY TO KAZAKHSTAN AND MAKE SURE YOU STAY HYDRATED😾😾

thank you very much!! I hope I'll be able to do it well :D don't wanna disappoint or bore anyone :<

I love you too, did your day go well? I've just been glued to my desk. I've been studying since morning hhh, but I've gotta go in for work tomorrow so ://

AND OMG SLDHSKSJSK THAT'S SO CUTE 😭😭😭 I'D TOTALLY WATCH THAT VIDEO !! CHISHIYA'S CAT EARS JUST EXTENDED MY LIFE BY TEN YEARS. he's a catboy, wbk 😼😼😼

—🦋

Yes yes I hope so too!!! I'll bring my quiche😼😼 our tutor is obsessed with them and gets so happy when I make them xD my friends love them too. Istg if I wont handle being a translator I'm going to a cooking school🙄🤚 I'd actually prefer that but uh ... alright this made me reconsider ??!?! What if I become a cook!!! (Ok that's just my impulsive thoughts, I'll stick with it as a plan B hehe)

Ohhh yeah me too,,, kids are reallyyyy different from each other and I wont be able to keep up with all if them either~ also, no way, you're cuter. Also, entreprjsjdjs !!!! That's so cool, basically setting up businesses and stuff? Sounds difficulttttt though if you really wanna then go for it!!! Good luck, Shortcake heheh

Ehshwjdd Kuro says that too, every time I do that he goes "alright, Shoyo" I GET SO EMBARRASSED HAHA

AWHHH😭😭 The poor boy, I can imagine his face xD that sounds so adorable, I hope you get to see him soon as well^^ I really dont remember what I said, I just remember the face I made (like a lenny face with kuroo's smirk?? Ok that one sounds so scary but that's probably what I looked like XHMDNDJWJD) and the face he made and honestly, its still the funniest thing EVER

To be honest, me too. I really wanna go check out that one Chinese restaurant on the other side of the city, but its really expensive, so uh, hopefully I'll get to try it later XD everything looks so good there though, cant wait to try them someday.

Flwxmsmfm I'm really glad to have you as well🥺💕 also same, it really depends on how the stars are aligned 😭😭

Ohh~ I see, hehe. I really wish I could focus better. Its probably not a good excuse, but I cant finds single place where I can properly read:/ I swear I need to be locked up so all I can do is read😭 but I'll definitely message you if I ever need one, thank you!!!

Hahah, I never thought I'd hear someone say that my obsession with cheese is endearing, but its pleasantly surprising XD

YEAH I WILL!!! I'm getting a bottle with a straw tomorrow, I dont like drinking water in big volumes so using a straw is the best next thing hehe

Heyy dont say that!! You wont disappoint anyone, trust me! You're such a sweet and fun person, I'm a hundred percent sure everyone will love you!!!<33

I'm so sorry I havent responded earlier!!!! I've been getting like 2 seconds to check my phone and honestly today was very exhausting, I dont really wanna talk about what exactly happened, but it's nothing bad, promise!! No I didnt kill anyone, dont worry

That sounds so tiring too:(( I really hope you're not overworking yourself!!! Please take breaks🥺🤍

HNDMSMDJDJS HE IS 100%

Do you want me to send you the picture without the texts ??? Anyways I'm gonna send it to you either way hehe

I love you so much!! I'm so tired rn but responding to you made me so happy, thank you😔🤍

#Ari💕

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thieves-in-the-palace · 5 years

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Even more Velvet Stage Palace AU ideas

Hhh sorry for how long this one is, I noticed a plothole that needed fixing and proceeded to get carried the eff away

The reason the rest of the Phantom Thieves find out about Akira’s Palace is because he starts sleeping a lot more than usual, has a harder time getting up in the morning, and starts eating less. Morgana pesters Akira into visiting Takemi in case he might be sick, but Takemi concludes that he’s perfectly healthy. When the issues persist, despite Akira’s claims that he’s alright, Morgana brings it up with the others b/c he’s worried. While they try to figure out what’s going on with their leader, someone (maybe Ryuji) jokingly puts his name into the MetaNav. Everyone’s caught off-guard when it’s a hit.

The Phantom Thieves appear in their normal real-world outfits the entire time, rather than shifting into their Thief outfits at any point (though they still have access to their weapons). Even if they’re identified as a threat in the Palace, real-world Akira still sees them as his friends first and foremost. Morgana does change into his bipedal form, but it has more to do with him being in the Metaverse than him being perceived as an enemy.

The cognitive versions of the Confidants all appear relatively normal/undistorted, but there’s still something a bit…off about them. Think uncanny valley here: they look perfectly human, but their movement are just a little too stiff to be natural, etc. Aside from being sorta fixated on the show and quick to praise Puppet!Akira, their personalities are pretty spot-on.

The non-Thief/non-Velvet Confidants are only semi-aware of Puppeteer!Akira, and don’t really have an opinion of him. Cognitive Igor, Caroline, and Justine are aware of Puppeteer!Akira, and have a generally neutral opinion of him.

The Thief Confidants are aware of Puppeteer!Akira, but they don’t like him, or like talking about him. If/when the Thieves manage to get their cognitive equivalents to talk about Puppeteer!Akira, they won’t have anything good to say about him – he’s creepy, it’s annoying when he messes up the show, it’s frustrating how he’s been taking more breaks recently, etc. This (combined with how easily they compliment Puppet!Akira) is to reflect how Akira feels like his friends only like the act he puts on around them, and not Akira himself.

All the cognitive Confidants refer to Puppet!Akira as “him,” but Puppeteer!Akira refers to Puppet!Akira as “it” instead.

LISTEN I know I said “eff the rules give Akira two Shadows” last time but I gotta change that now for the sake of Plot™. Right from the beginning, Akira’s Treasure is already manifested as Puppet!Akira. There are a few possible explanations for this, but the idea I’m leaning towards the most is that Puppet!Akira isn’t a “true” Shadow. It’s a Treasure that, due to its nature as a fabricated version of Akira made to perform for others, is a little more sentient than usual. As such, Akira would always be aware of its existence, thus leading to it already being manifested by the time the Phantom Thieves enter the Palace. This also leads to them mistakenly believing that Puppet!Akira is Akira’s Shadow at first.

@the-baron-of-burgle you brought up in ur ask how part of Puppet!Akira’s performance could include talking to the audience, and I really love that idea?? The Phantom Thieves would have the opportunity to tell him to drop the act, that he doesn’t have to put on an act to be loved, etc. Unfortunately Puppet!Akira doesn’t have enough autonomy to revolt against Puppeteer!Akira like you mentioned, but Puppeteer!Akira does hear the Thieves when they talk to Puppet!Akira. Their responses startle/confuse him enough that the performance is noticeably disrupted. This draws the ire of the cognitive audience, so the show is quickly resumed; afterwards though it’s announced (maybe by Caroline & Justine) that there’s going to be a short break before the next performance. The cognitive Confidants complain again at this, blaming the PT for messing things up, but they don’t become hostile. The enemy Shadows in the audience do attack though, but luckily there aren’t many of them, and the Thieves are able to escape and regroup.

You also brought up cutting Puppet!Akira’s strings and that is EXACTLY what’s gonna happen here baby!! If the Phantom Thieves are able to change Akira’s cognition from the real world, Puppeteer!Akira will cut Puppet!Akira’s strings, rendering it unable to perform. If they wind up having to send Akira a calling card, there will be a boss fight against Puppeteer!Akira – part of this fight will involve cutting Puppet!Akira’s strings themselves.

Although the Phantom Thieves agree to try changing Akira’s cognition from the real world and leave stealing his Treasure as a last resort, they still spend a decent amount of time investigating the Palace and trying to locate a route to the Treasure. To their confusion, all the routes they investigate wind up either being dead ends or leading them back to the main stage, where Puppet!Akira performs.

Puppet!Akira can talk and emote to an extent, but it doesn’t blink or breathe. Its eyes stay relatively emotionless, and are the signature Shadow yellow, though they look much less alive than Puppeteer!Akira’s. It generally doesn’t do much unless it’s actively being controlled.

Puppeteer!Akira can talk, but rarely does so – when he does, his voice is very quiet. His eyes are more emotive than Puppet!Akira’s, even if his main emotion is unfortunately “depression.” He doesn’t like Puppet!Akira very much, but views it as necessary to keep around.

@yiffquius like u mentioned in ur tags, the memories that get played out by the bunraku puppets 100% are altered from how they actually went down. The alterations always reinforce Akira’s perception that he has to keep up the act or else there will be some form of consequence, primarily people abandoning him.

Speaking of the memories, I feel like they ought to expand back to pre-canon, or at minimum to the day of Akira’s arrest – Palaces take a long time to form, after all. However, another way to go about it is to say that the PT don’t see any pre-canon memories for whatever reason. Maybe they feel like it’d be an unnecessary invasion of privacy, or there’s not enough time to watch all of them, etc. Of the memories they see, I think three that would emphasize Akira’s distortion well (and be easy to alter) would be the night of his arrest, his car convo with Sojiro/Sojiro threatening to kick him out if he gets into trouble, and that part of the buffet scene where he’s made leader of the Phantom Thieves.

I kinda want Nameless and Belladonna to have cameo appearances, seeing as they could provide (a limited range of) music for the shows. It’d be kind of a stretch, unfortunately – since they don’t show up in Akira’s Velvet Room, he has no reason to know them, let alone have cognitive versions of them.

#persona 5 #p5 #akira kurusu #ren amamiya #velvet stage palace au #yiffquius #the baron of burgle #not aesthetic #Kidd speaking

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lil-meow-meow-goes-rawr · 5 years

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Hello and good morning my friend! I always wanted to tell you something..................................... I........ I..... I Love You! Hhh gotta rip it like a bandaid.. So... now you know... you’re really sweet and awesome... so I decided that it’s the best that you know that I love you and please don’t ever give up or let anyone drag you down.. -Moon that sends love everywhere she goes ;-;

#please i love you #thank you #min angel bae is the sweetest person🥺

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eternalbulletproof · 5 years

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Aww this is so cute and sweet!! Thank you so much (’:

#*#min-angel-bae

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nako-doodles · 5 years

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this is so sweet of u bby. thank you 💖

#ans

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gustingirl · 5 years

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Omg this was so sweet wtf why am i cryingggg :(

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svtegg · 5 years

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22 questions tag

tagged by: @sunlithues @sippinonstars @handsomevchwe @leojov @shuasunflowers and more but i can’t remember:((( thank u ily all so much you guys r the BESTest

1. name: **r* mina!!

2. nickname: mina, nomi, mimi, egg, mom and idiot

3. star sign: virgo sun, cancer moon, sag rising and my chinese zodiac is an ox!

4. gender: im a girl!! :D

5. sexuality: bi/questioning (i have a inferiority complex bc i feel like i’m not gay enough to call myself gay lol?? i also struggle with compulsory heterosexuality and seeing myself as one or another, so i usually just say im queer

6. favourite colour: green!!!! (and brown/black)

7. time: 05:46 in the morning (oops)

8. normal amount of sleep: i usually go like 30 ish hours without sleeping and then i crash sleep for like 12 hours 😔😔😔 it’s rly unhealthy but i have really bad insomnia and i can’t sleep unless i’m exhausted

9. last thing i searched: “saay gzgz lyrics”

10. # of blankets: 2 right now but it’s summer so i’ll probably put away the fluffy one

11. favourite fictional character: i gotta say,,,,i cried like a baby when dobby died in hp.....but honestly i think Ged from Tales From Earthsea is one of my favorite ppl ever but then again i usually take a liking to wise older men w a beard in any type of fiction (my fave hp characters where dumbledore, sirius black and hagrid and young dumbledore in fantastic beasts what)

12. what i’m wearing currently: a huge t-shirt with a blood stain on it (i wore it when i cut my finger sjjdjsjs no weird shit going on here i swear)

13. favourite book: life of pi, the little prince, the kite runner and the harry potter series hihi

14. favourite artists: i listen to any kind of music really,,,,i get into phases of different genres all the time but there’s like 5 bands that i have a really deep connection to (this is cheesy and lame asf) but twenty one pilots, 5 seconds of summer, little mix, bon iver and all time low really shaped me as a person and helped me grow as a person when i was a teenager,,, i don’t listen to all of them as often anymore but i still rly love them! (this got way longer than i expected lmao)

15. dream job?: realistically speaking i would like to be a practical arts teacher but my all time dream is to be an actress or a interior/set designer

16. # of followers: i haven’t checked in a while but i think about 200? i’m not sure actually

17. when did you join tumblr?: i have a very inactive humor blog that’s from like 2013ish? it’s full of bad humor posts, kpop, 1d and pop punk bands oops

18. what do you post about?: my feelings, flowers and animals and sometimes i post about kpop lmao

19. what made you get an account?: i got tired of tweeting 140 word versions of my ideas n i remebered that tumblr existed

20. when did your blog reach its peak?: svtegg is only two or three months old so i hope i havent peaked yet sksks

21. do you get asks daily?: i would say i get them in dumps, one week i’ll get one or two then another week it will be rly quiet! so no, but i adore when people randomly send me things!

22. why did you choose your url?: something cute n easy to remember!!! or at least i hope its cute and easy to remember hhh

i tag anyone who wants to do this!!!!! bc i’m really late to the party so idk who has done it..,,..he he he.,,, if you do this tag then pls tag me so i can read n learn more abt u ♡ love u all hehehe mwah

#about me #this is STUPIDLY long #me: acting like im interesting lmao whhhhh

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fluffyllamas-23 · 6 years

Text

Post-plane ride hell

Okaaaaay! I was not planning on writing this until after my semester ends, but then it just kind of...happened? So enjoy, I guess XD

Shoutout to @embriumtea for feeding my addiction to making new OCs and sending me that really wonderful pic of Matteo’s face claim

(Matteo speaks some Portuguese in it, and my sincerest apologies for any mistakes. I, unfortunately do not speak the language so I used google translate).

It’s not unusual for Mateo to be exhausted coming off a flight - more often than not, he was. It’s also not unusual (though it hasn’t happened in a while) for him to step off the plane feeling bleary and headachy and just plain run down.

Declan knows this (of course he knows this, they’ve been dating for three and a half years), and Matteo barely has to say anything for him to know when he’s not feeling well.

The phone call when he stepped off the plane had been brief, but it was long enough for Declan to know that Mateo is coming down with something (he’s not entirely sure Matteo even knows it, though). His accent, though usually almost undetectable, sounded much thicker over the phone, which is always the number one indicator that he’s about to be knocked on his ass by some sort of hell-virus very, very soon.

The frustration is another huge indicator - Matteo is rarely in a bad mood (that’s Declan’s area of expertise, honestly). He had very angrily told Declan to stop asking if he needed a ride home, and then hung up in annoyance when Declan called him a complete moron (which, in hindsight, was probably not the greatest thing to call his tired and ailing boyfriend).

The way Declan sees it, there’s one of two ways this will play out. The first is that Matteo will continue to be frustrated and annoyed and will go to bed mad at nothing but his shitty immune system. The second, which is exactly what Declan hopes will happen, is that he’ll just admit he’s not feeling well, drop the attitude and cuddle with him on the couch.

A little over half an hour later, the front door opens, and in walks a very rumpled, very tired and very worn out looking Matteo.

He drops his bags on the floor, and Declan has him wrapped up in a hug in an instant. Matteo visibly deflates and slumps into him, face buried in Declan’s chest.

“I’m okay.”

“Matty,” Declan says softly, “come on. I know you.”

“I think I’m getting sick,” he admits in defeat, “I don’t feel very well.”

“Yeah, I could tell.”

Matteo groans and rests his chin on top of Declan’s shoulder, “remind me never to agree to work a twelve hour international flight ever again.”

Declan chuckles, “I told you it was a bad idea.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles.

Declan kisses the top of his head, “Are you achy? You’ve gotta be achy.”

Matteo nods, pressing his face even more into Declan’s chest, “yeah.”

“Okay,” Declan soothes, rubbing his back, “how about you go lie down and I’ll draw you a bath? It’ll help you feel better.”

“Oh God, please,” he groans, “everything hurts.”

Declan frowns, “yeah? You want my heating pad in the meantime?”

“Not unless you have one that fits over my whole entire body.”

“Are you feeling bad enough to need some medicine?” Declan asks, reaching around him to put a hand on his cheek. He doesn’t have a fever yet, thank God, but Declan has no doubts that he’ll spike one soon.

“No...not yet...m’jus...tired.”

“Did you sleep at all on the flight?”

“No.”

“Of course you didn’t,” Declan grumbles, “go to bed. I’ll get the bath ready and bring you something to eat. What do you want?”

“Nothing.”

Declan rolls his eyes, walking with him to their room, “that’s not an acceptable answer, and you know it. You’ve gotta work with me a little bit, sweetheart.”

“Uh...maybe...some toast?”

“Is that a question or a statement, babe?”

“Ugh, I don’t know,” Matteo groans, “I’m really not very hungry right now.”

“Is your stomach bothering you?”

“No.”

“Did you eat anything during the flight?”

“...No.”

Declan sighs, “you have no sense of self preservation, you know that?”

“You’ve been telling me that for the last three and a half years,” Matteo groans, collapsing down onto bed. Declan pulls the blanket over him and strokes his cheek

“Will you please eat at least something? Two bites, you don’t have to eat everything, but you need at least something in your system,” Declan asks.

“In a little bit? After the bath? I’m so tired…I want to sleep.”

Declan runs his hand through Matteo’s hair, “alright. Close your eyes, I’ll come get you in a little bit.”

By the time the bath is ready, Matteo is sprawled out in bed, fast asleep.

“Matty, wake up,” he says softly, waking Matteo against his better judgement. He really should just let him sleep - the poor guy is absolutely exhausted.

He forces his eyes open, which elicits a low groan of discomfort, “ohhhh.”

“Are you okay?”

He lets out a stuffy sounding sniffle, rubs at his eyes and then squeezes them shut again, “mby head. Oh mby God.”

“Oh...you sound awful, sweetheart. What happened? You’ve only been asleep twenty minutes.”

“I dond’t kndow…oh shit, this is awful.”

Declan presses the backs of his fingers to Matteo’s cheek, “no fever, that’s good. I’m going to go grab you some decongestants and then the bath, yeah?”

“Dond’t wandt to mbove.”

“I know, I know, but it’ll help with the aching...and the steam will help the congestion.”

He sniffles, rubbing at his nose, “you’re probably right.”

The bath does help, although Matteo is too consumed by how awful he feels and how he just wants to sleep, to enjoy it. He stays in it for all of seven minutes before croaking out that he needs to lie down, because even sitting there is too taxing and he feels on the brink of passing out.

Declan helps him to the bed, and then rummages around in their dresser for a pair of his sweats and a hoodie that’ll be much to big for Matteo.

“Here,” he says, tossing him the clothes. “Get dressed and get under the blankets, I’m going to go get you water and the thermometer.”

Declan always knows exactly when Matteo spikes a fever, and that moment comes at three in the morning, when Matteo shakes him awake

“Decland, acorde,” he mumbles, “eu mbe sindto horrível.”

“Honey, I can’t understand you,” Declan mumbles, rubbing at his left eye with the heel of his palm while he pushes himself into a sitting position.

“Doendte,” he groans, muffling a series of itchy sneezes into the blankets.

“Okay...I know that one,” he sighs, chewing on his bottom lip. He presses a hand to Matteo’s forehead, inhaling sharply at the heat radiating off of him “you need medicine...shit, you’re really burning up.”

Matteo blinks at Declan in confusion - everything feels like it’s moving in slow motion, everything aches and burns...everything just feels wrong. He’s simultaneously too hot and too cold, and his head is throbbing so much that just moving it to look at Declan is entirely too painful and brings tears to his eyes.

“Decland,” he groans, gripping at his shirt.

“Yeah, hey, what’s up?” Declan asks softly.

“I…” He can’t figure out how to form words - especially in the language Declan understands.

Declan can tell he’s struggling, he can see the frustration in the line that’s appeared down the center of his forehead, in how tense and rigid his entire body had gone.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Declan soothes cupping Matteo’s cheek with one hand, and with the other, he smooths his thumb down his forehead, “it’s okay. Don’t worry, you’re alright. I just need to get the fever down.”

Matteo mumbles something else in portuguese, eyelids drooping.

It takes a little bit, but his fever is finally down from nearly one hundred and four to a much more comfortable one hundred and one. Neither of them get much sleep the rest of the night, and by eight that morning, Matteo is on the couch, shivering beneath a blanket. He watches Declan pace through half-lidded, bleary, fever bright eyes.

He’s been sneezing off and on all morning, and each sneeze feels progressively worse and triggers annoying, stuffy sounding coughing fits.

“You dond’t have to call out,” Matteo sniffles, rubbing at his nose. Despite the fever drop, he still doesn’t feel much better.

He feels less hazy, yes, but he’s still so congested that it’s making his head throb and leaves him with a dizzy, light headed feeling. His throat hurts (and everytime he swallows, he’s reminded of that fact), his body hurts, and he’s so tired he just wants to cry.

“Yes I do.”

“Ndo...hhh..hih’ihtshuh! Ihtsch! Tshih! Snff! Snff...”

“Yes. There’s no way in hell I’m going to leave you alone when you’re this sick. Mnh-mnh, not happening...and bless you.”

“S’probably...hihhh...ihhh...heh...a g-good thi’gg-tschih!...dizzy,” he mumbles, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Bless you. See?” He says, ruffling Matteo’s hair, “I’m going to go call my boss, I’ll be right back.”

Declan steps outside, closing the sliding glass door behind him as he pulls his phone out. He can hear Matteo sneezing even with the door shut - the fit sounds exhausted and scratchy and drawn out, and Declan’s heart clenches.

Once the phone call is finished, he steps back inside to find Matteo half slumped over with a handful of tissues pressed to his face. He blinks away irritated tears before his breath hitches again and he lets out a shaky, “Ehtschuh! Tschuh! Snff!”

“Bless you,” he frowns.

Matteo slumps into him, coughing a little as he rests his head on Declan’s shoulder, “I’mb exhausted.”

Declan wraps an arm around Matteo, rubbing up and down his arm, “I’m going to go get you something to eat, does anything sound good? I know you’re not hungry, but you haven’t eaten today...or yesterday.”

He sniffles, “cand you mbake that s-soup...hhh...hihhh...ihtsch! Hih’tscheww! snff...that onde...ihtsch! Snff! Snff! That you mbake?”

Declan laughs lightly, “yeah I can make that. Want me to put a movie on for you?”

He shrugs tiredly, “I’mb about to fall asleep. Umb...cand you wait ond the soup? I wandt to cuddle.”

“Absolutely,” Declan says softly. Matteo maneuvers so that he’s laying with his head in Declan’s lap.

Declan begins carding his hands through Matteo’s hair, which effectively lulls him to sleep.

Translations:

Acorde: wake up

eu me sinto horrível: I feel horrible

Doente: Sick

#Declan and Matteo #sickfic #flu #fever #sneezing #congestion #I spent the entire day writing this instead of doing homework lmao whoops

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threeracha · 6 years

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in honor of earth day tomorrow, who are your top 10 closest human friends (both irl and mutuals combined) and how have they inspired you??? 🌎💕🤧

IN HONOR OF EARTH DAY LDFMSOF OMG thank u for sending this ;_____;

hHH ok ok ok i totally got emo during this but like ig im more emo than i thought 🤑✊🏻im literally that one dude crying but posing still 😩

1. my IRL BEST FRIEND is my fav person ever she’s like the only irl i have that actually wants to keep in contact w me like forever 😩 legit in 7th grade she told me she had a dream she died and was crying bc she wasn’t sure if we’d be in the afterlife together LFMAOFOAOOFO we have out entire lives planned like if our s/o’s don’t comply they’re canned, no exceptions :// i think she inspires me to be me bc she’s the only person im comfortable being myself w :( but she also inspires me to not get into a relationship bc she’s super soft and doesn’t know how to take a firm stand on anything LMFAOOO im Boutta save her from The Monster that is her bf dwdwdw *sideeyes* jk im also weak how do i handle This

2. ariane : one of my longest w1 mutuals

3. rissa : she’s so nice and says good morning Everyday even tho i die off for literal Weeks ;;;; idk what i did to deserve a sunshine even tho im the only person she ever roasts it’s?? totally fine she inspires me to be nice n cherish friends n roast them w love :(

3. tina : like one of my og wives 💓💞💖💕tina is super soft like SUPER soft n inspires me to be down-to-earth, she definitely is one to emphasize self-care nd i rlly like that ✨

4. mae ; other half of the og wives😩 mae is so strong :( like she may deal w the Biggest problems in her everyday life but is still? always being a sunshine :((((((( if only i could not cry as often abt deffo less traumatic experiences LFMODSF

5. aurora : my coldhearted mother that actually is super tsun :( she’s super blunt and straight to hte point like a very No Bullshit Zone w aurora which is scary but also admirable in terms of getting things to be done the way i want,,, i just gotta channel my inner aurora :””””)

6. one of my closest friends in school (bc my bff and i live like an hr away from each other :/) is my rIDE OR DIE nd my school bff!! ;; she deffo has like Everything in life stacked against her but she works so hard in school and like actual work which i could Never do nd it’s super inspiring for me to think about all she has to do keep up in life whereas i don’t have to and still complain abt stuff a lot ;;; SLDFJLSKJF wow im getting emo abt my friends rn tbh LAHAHHAHHA

7. idek if this is lameass but my mother is one of my best friends? LFMAOFOOA she and i spend one day a week together w/ just the two of us nd sometimes im like :/// abt it but ik she just wants the best for me by taking a break from school nd all that and like tbh i dont think i’ll be a mom when i’m older but she’s a gr8 mom and is prob the biggest reason for me to want to work w kids when im older :”””)

8. karen!!!! y’all prob alr kno how much i love karen :( i’ve honestly never met ANYBODY so nice like karen cares so much about people i really wanna be like her one day like :(((((((((((((( i’m really reserved honestly so i have a hard time approaching ppl but i love how karen wants to get to know ppl nd to make sure they’re doing well ;;;

9. allison is like one of my longest mutuals ever ;;;;; nd like even tho allison seemingly denies my Love :( she’s one of my fav ppl ever ;;n;; she always helps me out bc im literally so dumb nd i want to be as accomplished n intelligent one day 😩

10. omfg i want to include like every mutual i’ve ever talked to like i probably have died from our convo but trUST ME LSKDJFLKSDF D IF WE”VE ACTUALLY TALKED THEN IM totally comfortable n feel close to u alr ;;; ✨💌😌💗💘💞💓💒like honestly i have such a hard time getting clsoe to ppl but the face that anyone approaches me makes me Greet w the openest of open arms,,,,

#asks #anon #THIS WAS SO CUTE OMFGLKFMKLGMFGJ #i legit have tears in my eyes now #mostly abt six and seven i wish i was able to show i'm grateful but its so awk for me im not like htat at all YIKEKEKEKKEKKEKEKEKEKEK

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notwhoiwanttobeyet · 3 years

Text

(mental note) update:

this girl keeps asking me to be her wife - i literally know nothing about her, she doesn’t even KNOW me and it’s kinda making me really uncomfortable but i don’t want to upset her or anything so i’m just- ugh. i don’t know what’s worse. i just don’t want to think about ittt

NOW SHE’S ASKING TO CALL ME HELP

number 2 - that dumb boy i mentioned earlier. yeah him. well he TEXTED me - we haven’t texted since 2 0 1 9 so like kiNda random but he asked if we could talk. i asked if everything was okay, he said yes. so we called for no more than five minutes. he apologised for traumatising me. no one has ever done that before. i now feel as though i can actually move on, now that he’s acknowledged the issue and we’ve resolved the conflict. human. decency. man,,,

i don’t know what to think in general

three - i was on the train this morning and this kid from my animation class was staring at me (we were like standing with a group of mutual friends together etc) so naturally after several seconds i locked eye contact and said “you good?” which he ignored, and continued staring at me for several more seconds before saying “ a r e y o u h i g h ? “ ASHUDHJASHDJ LMFAO. apparently my eyes were red or smthin WHICH i checked and they weren’t right and everyone was freaking out saying they were but so it turns out they were just screaming about the veins in my eyesss which i forget normal people don’t have showing. ITS ANXIETY MAN. YOU THINK I DO DRUGS LMFAOOO

four - this boy was on the train and i kept looking at him c as u ally ~ and he looked at me. he had these light pretty blue eyes and this sick as boots, i’m not sure what kind but they had these buckles along the front, kinda like demonias, and his hair was dyed black and like it was such a cool hairstyle and he’s like full on shy boy bopping along to his music with his headphones on and i was sitting there, trying to use my emo powers to telepathically say d o y o u l i s t e n t o m y c h e m , ,,, 8 y e a r s s i n c e b r e a k u p , ,, ,,, but instead i just stared at him. when i got off at my stop i looked back onto into the carriage and he was looking at me so i looked at him. i was THIS close to saluting him.

you only live once. gotta shoot yo shot. i learnt that the hard way

fifth - i can’t remember- OH YEAH. my friends were filming one of those tik toks thats like “every friend group has” and then a list of things right and they like film whoever is that friend. they were filming this without me knowing btw like i was on my phone living my life or whatever and then all of a sudden they send me this self proclaimed tik tok masterpiece and honestly it was funny as because now we have this inside joke that “every friend group has 5 jordans” because literally every that friend in the group was just m e . anywho one of the categories was like constant bisexual panic or whatever BUT I’M NOT OUT. how did they know. ho- hhh. like i’mn so confused ?? because there are other friends in my friend circle that are BISEXUAL and like out and proud about it and i love that for them- but for whatever reason they put me in instead ? imnotout. what- and then if that wasn’t a give away, we filmed another tik tok (MY FIRST TIME MAKING A TIK TOK, THIS BOOMER IS MOVING UP IN THE WORLD) and the final category was “the b in lgbt+” but i didn’t hear the question, i just heard lgbt+ and i saw my friend be like yeah that’s me so i was like wait do they know i’m gay or- so i like just saluted my hand in the frame LMAO

one of my friends definitely knows im bi now tho because she messaged me later on asking if she was allowed to put the tik toks on her private story with only 5 people and i was like lmao i appreciate the consideration mate

so i gues s i’m ou t ed

i don’t really know what’s going on

unlike the other gay kids in my year, i’m like gay and everyone knows i’m gay but we never talk about me being gay

like i’ve always known people mos t l i ke ly ya know

i’m gay. i don’t hide that. but i don’t wear my pride on my sleeve ( :( )

it’s kinda just like this topic we never really touch on,,, and i like it that way.

anyway that’s my mental notes wh o oo o\

damn. i can’t believe i’ll never see that emo boy again. damn. i’m glad i at least had the confidence to look at him. i’m proud of myself. damn though/.

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silentavera · 6 years

Text

A snippet of Meltdown: Part 1 from The Warmth of Frost

I’m not dropping this baby, not by a long shot, just wanted to show that yes, I am making progress on it, and shooting for the next part in March <3 we all know how fickle my release times are but I can always try

Okay Gary you SEXY, SEXY BEAST, rise and shine! Rise and shine! It’s time to put your best features forward because you are going to be aaalll about Ash’s recovery from here on out 24/7, 365 days a year to show you are a superior asset to Ash – I mean you’ve already made an excellent case in rescuing Ash from the Dark Place! You know, risking your sense of self being depleted into a void of nothingness – you are a worthwhile mate! You are a worthwhile partner! You can do this! Rah! Rah! Rah! Rah! RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaauuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh h hh hhh h h h h h. . . . . .

During the morning, Ash and Gary didn’t so much as leave their room, much less the bed, in fact, there wasn’t much moving at all since the both of them had developed rather nasty headaches leaving their caregivers pondering how they awoke in such a state.

“How, how do you get a stress headache from sleeping?” Gary groaned.

Well if you were stressing BEFORE you fell asleep, that ‘can’ have adverse effects to a goodnight’s rest :/

“Mmmmmuuurrruuuuuuugh,” said Ash.

Gary rubbed his face aimlessly, “There’s nothing to be stressed about” – and the moment that ‘wish’ left Gary’s lips, he could literally feel the universe turn its collective head at him and smirk.

Chimecho cleared their throat, “’Oh how the man looks to the sky to ponder dreams and whims, when the sky looks back in reply and sighs of his own limitations and grins.’”

OH SHUT UP.

Ash: Bluh.

As the day wore on, there was triumph over the headaches, however,

Gary: Love, you feeling any better?

Ash: zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Ash’s body demanded more sleep as the fever plaguing him came back (to the surprise of no one), but the pain wasn’t as bad as before. He woke up on and off, on and off, communicating here and there, nothing too much, nothing too strenuous as he had pushed himself a bit yesterday (to the surprise of no one); Gary knocked with a knowing tick that made the corner of his mouth twitch as he looked at Moltres’ feather gleaming beautifully in its case….Thankfully as the day wore on, the fever lessened, and Ash was well and awake enough to walk around in their room a bit with Gary.

“You don’t have to force yourself to walk Ash” –

“If I stay stuck in bed for another second I’m going to scream,” said Ash, “I need to move around, even if its just these tiny steps.” And tiny steps they were.

Chimecho hovered near them, “I wouldn’t really call this walking anyway, ‘tiptoeing while holding onto another person’ would be more accurate.” The couple glared at Chimecho; the psychic pokemon casually floated away.

“Huuuuuuugh…….*tip toe~ tip toe~*…….We’re moving about as fast as a Bergmite, or an Avalugg, wouldn’t you say Gary?”

“You could make that comparison.” *tip toe~ tip toe~*.

“Bergmite take liiiiittle teeeeeny tiny steps, just like this, juuuuuuuust like this….”

They stopped together, the couple standing there, holding each other, Gary feeling a tremor ever so small from Ash, and held him tighter.

….You remember how he was after the Sylveon died? At least you’re holding him here, but his heart ‘holds’ so much…

The day progressed. Ash told everyone he was okay, and they believed him. Gary told everyone he was okay, and they almost believed him.

“Have you taken your meds?”

“YES. I HAVE DAISY.”

“Pbbth.”

“PBBBBBBBBBTH~!”

“On that note,” said Chimecho, “How are you feeling with your first dose Ash?”

Ash held out his arm and saw his hands slightly shivering, “Shakey? Is Shakey a thing? And, tingly?”

“Shakey is a thing, let’s see how you progress.”

“Okay.”

Huuuuuuuuuu. You remember the ‘joyful’ expedition in finding your prescription Gary =n= But, it’s just something you gotta get through AND IT SUCKS ASS, but, you got through it, Ash’ll get through it, and you both can send each other cute little reminders via your coms <3 As Ash’s mate, you have this responsibility =w=b In fact, set a reminder right now :3 You took your meds today, you are a good mate, so shoo on them uwu. Perks of a stable commitment are snuggles, all the Ash snuggles, all of them, none get more Ash snuggles than you 83 –

“Gary you climb any further on me and I’m not going to be able to breathe” –

“Accept my love.”

Ash smirked, “Alright then” – Ash swiftly nabbed Gary around his waist and rolled on top of him, pinning him down by sitting on his hips – Clefable (as they were pruning some flowers) turned away right on their heels without missing a beat, but Chimecho was up for a show –

“Ah,” Gary’s eyebrows furrowed, “I thought we already went over this dear – AHHEHHEHEHEAHAHAHAHAHA” –

“Kuch-kuch-kuch-kuch-kuch-coo~!” The tickle attack was brief, but it was enough to get Gary winded and wiping away some laugh tear beads. Ash kissed Gary’s nose, “I hear laughter is good medicine, so I’m prescribing at least one good laugh a day Gary.”

“Is that so Dr. Ketchum?” Gary held a half-smirk, rubbing Ash on his thighs, “Will I have you to look forward to ensure my dosage is correct~?”

Ash smiled more broadly, “I think you can look forward to a lot more than that~”

MMMMH THIS CORN BE GOOD X3

And that was enough for Gary to pull Ash in for deeper kiss, brief as it was, considering there is still company in the room, but it was enough to make Ash completely relax his body on top of Gary’s; the weight comforting.

For the record, that didn’t feel fake, Ash really does like making out with you Gary. OR DOES HE –

hhhhhhhhHIIIIIIIIIIISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS.

They didn’t go any further than that, despite a mighty need rushing south. Ash rolled off to the side, and they nuzzled into each other, their heartstring shining a bit brighter from their interaction….h o w e v e r . . . . . . .

A knocking from their room door made Ash and Gary sit themselves up (Gary crossing his legs). Clefable opened the door to a tall policeman in a tan trench coat on the other side, Ash and Gary immediately recognizing the man as Looker from the International Police.

Go away :D

Looker tipped his head to Clefable who was ushering him in with bubbling kindness, he stood before the couple with a tight posture, “Ah Ash, and Gary! Gary, good to see you awake” –

You’re like the last person on earth to find out Investigator Bob.

“I don’t mean to intrude so suddenly, but Ash, I have a couple more questions I need to follow up on.”

“By all means,” Ash motioned for Looker to take a seat, “What’s up?”

A reminder Gary that you’ve been out for 11 days and don’t think for a second you’ve been caught up on ‘everything’ 8X –

*I could catch you up on everything.

8’))))))))

*Okay.

Gary sat back and watched Ash as he spoke with Looker, the questions were simple and not invasive by any means, yet, right in front of Gary, he watched the light slowly mute in Ash’s eyes as the conversation carried on. Looker was getting details about the, Espeon, although how many details can one get when Ash’s time with Espeon was so brief?

And, Gary….This is your first time hearing about what Espeon did to Ash, you know it threw Ritchie, Sparky, and Pikachu out the window, and that it stabbed Ash in the heart with the Catalyst, but to hear how it, smiled, how it, gloated, how it, enjoyed the sheer terror it wrought upon them all….As brief as it was, that’s one encounter that burns itself into the back of your brain. And you’re very, VERY glad that it’s very, VERY dead.

While Looker flipped through his notes, Gary brought Ash’s hand to hip lips and kissed it and Ash all but collapsed onto Gary leaning into him; Gary placed an arm around him. Looker was cross referencing testimony from the rest of Ash’s friends, he was trying to deduce if there were somehow multiple Espeons involved, or if it was just the one, or perhaps even another Ditto, “We’re just crossing our ‘t’s’ and dotting our ‘i’s’ here,” said Looker, “We want to make absolutely sure there was only one Espeon on the scene, and so far, everything adds up to one.”

“Well that’s a relief given that the one is dead,” said Gary flatly, *Now please, just, go* –

“As for the Ditto that was dispatched by Zekrom, it is troubling that it could split itself up into independent functioning pieces, unfortunately we’re unable to weigh its corpse to deduce if it was whole at the time of death as Zekrom fried it to a crisp” –

BECAUSE, THAT’S ALL YOU NEED RIGHT NOW IN THE BACK OF YOUR MIND. THANKS LOOKER, THANKS A FUCKING LOT –

“I’d like to interview Zekrom, but that’s maybe wishful thinking on my part.”

“If there were any remaining pieces, I’m sure Cobalion would have sniffed them out,” said Ash, “I have faith after what happened that Cobalion wouldn’t leave any stone unturned, neither would Zekrom, or any other legend that pitched in.”

Looker’s hand went to his chin, “This is true, and there have been reported sightings on Cobalion in the area, as well as Suicune, and Raikou. That is a safe assumption to make. Oh! I heard you spoke with Ho-oh the other day” –

“Yeah, I did, all we talked about was what to do with Moltres, Ho-oh has them fulfilling a penance for their actions.”

“A penance seems rather light if you ask me,” said Looker.

HEAR HEAR~!

“But who am I to judge?”

YOU’RE A COP –

Looker stood up, readying to leave, “Well, seems my next move is to try and get a council with some of our legendary colleagues, I’ll be speaking with Lance and the Kanto League next,” Looker smiled, “You’ve been a great help Ash, greater than I think you’ll ever know.”

“Heh, I try.”

Looker nodded, wished the couple well, and took his leave with Clefable wishing him all the best.

Aside from REALLY WANTING TO KNOW MORE details on how Ash has been a big help, Gary was more mesmerized on Ash’s subtle transformation. To describe, it was as if a great action movie was playing, but it was muted. It was like looking at a beautifully intricate painting, but its colors were grey scale. Ash was still there, but his movements were more careful, and he was more quiet. There wasn’t a single trace of light in his eyes, but he smiled. He was willing and able to get up and move about, but tired quickly. When it was time to eat, he tried to eat more, but just couldn’t.

Gary recalled how in the Dark Place Ash’s eyes were completely black, empty, and now, as Ash goes about, his eyes lifeless, soulless, they may as well have been shadowed over by darkness.

Again Ash told everyone he was okay, whether they believed him or not this time, Gary paid no attention. Gary felt that inside, Ash was fighting a battle he couldn’t quite vocalize, but he trusted Ash to stay true to his word despite the slowly boiling turmoil within. It was feelings, painful feelings Ash just had to work through, feelings of loss, inadequacy, questions of self-worth, all the things Gary knew the answer to. He could tell Ash till he was blue in the face how much he means to him, but he may as well throw those compliments into the hole in Ash’s code. So Gary again left his trust with Ash that he’ll work through it. Now was the time, they’re getting themselves together. *It’s okay, it’s all going to be okay, it’s okay, it’s okay….*

Gary tried not to pay the quick spurts of pain across Ash’s face any mind, and let Ash process on his own time. If Ash needed Gary, he was right there. He would always be right there.

Regardless, it was torture.

“Ash….you okay?”

Ash answered truthfully, one hand gripped around the other’s wrist, “No.”

Suddenly you understand how Ash feels the need to help, because Gary, you would do anything right now to put all those awful emotions hurting him to rest. You’re not overlooking this, in fact you see it very much, and you see him favoring that wrist and his blue eye in nervous touches and rubs to the face…..

“What’s going through your mind Love?”

“……Mary, and her family.”

*INHALE*………. Can you…..NOT ONCE think for yourself? 8D Once upon a time, you used to have more investment in the story of Ash Ketchum, I QUITE remember that at the Silver League~!

“…..It’s just sad,” Ash continued, “…Mary, and her parents are going to go through a very, very ugly process….” Ash weakly picked up the borrowed com (who knows whom’s at this point), letting the weight of it move his wrist, “There’s a lot of angry, and scared, and hurt people right now.”

Gary gipped Ash’s hand holding the com – “Ash that’s not your responsibility” –

Ash’s hand shook, whatever answer he had for Gary was stuck in his throat, one that he probably handed out many times before in the time Gary was asleep, “….I just can’t sit and do nothing….”

“Ash, sweetheart,” exasperated, Gary wrapped his arms around Ash, “You have done so much, and I know I’m preaching to the choir here, but you started a Tourney to help fund Viridian’s recovery with not one, not two, not three – but four legendary Trainers coming in to assist! Looker is right, you’ve been a huge help already, please, please – PLEASE! Don’t take on anymore responsibility. You’ve got to rest – you have to rest!” –

For Gary’s sake as much as your’s! For your mother too! HELL EVERYONE IS PROBABLY SHELL-SHOCKED FROM THIS DX –

“I seriously doubt the Rangers are going to leave Mary and her family out to dry, and let me just take a wild guess here, but I’m sure Max has been by her side no?”

“He has.”

“Well alright then,” said Gary, “See? They’re going to have all the support in the world, don’t you worry.” And yet, Gary saw Ash make an ever so subtle disapproving face, “What is it?”

*If some of that support made it to Lisa, we probably wouldn’t be here right now,* Ash sighed through his nose, “It just, really sucks they have to go through this twice, losing their daughter, her sister, like that…” Ash turned away a little, his eyes downcast, “…..I spoke with her, like spoke-spoke, in the rubble of the hospital….I talked with her, I talked Lisa down…”

“You, talked her down?”

Ash looked full to Gary, “I did. And I know most people think I was crazy for even trying. She screamed, she cried, she was in so much pain….All that anger, all that rage, just, burned her completely inside and out, it, changed who she was, but I saw….I saw her, I saw Lisa. Just, Lisa….I wish….I wish someone else, anyone else – would have done the same, before it was too late, before she hurt so many, before she hurt herself….All it took was someone to reach out, just one, all it takes, is, just one voice…If I don’t say something…somebody else may never get the chance to themselves.”

Goddamn your boyfriend is fucking Master material. Buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut –

“Ash,” Gary took Ash’s hand, he gave an empty laugh, he didn’t know how to feel, amazed yes, but, “You’re a…geeze, there are no words to describe the kind of person you are, you’re selfless, selfless – if someone looked up that word in the dictionary, they’d find your picture right next to it….But Ash….please, I know you care about people, I know you’d, give some stranger on the street the clothes off your back, but right now, there are plenty, plenty of helpers here. Voices will be heard, needs will be met, people and pokemon are getting help, so Ash, I’m, begging you, to please, please, please! Rest and look after yourself! I know you gotta do this, I know, I know, and that’s fine – but, I don’t know if you think taking care of yourself is selfishness – it is not – Ash…just, don’t forget about you….”

If you won’t protect yourself, then I will.

Their heartstring screamed Gary’s devotion to the point where Ash’s eyes got a little misty-eyed. In a flux of shared adoration, Ash kissed Gary, the two deepening the kiss as one, hands resting, and bracing upon the other, pulling back gently, both gazing into each other’s eyes, Gary’s thumb rubbing just to the side of Ash’s blue eye.

“Your voice,” said Ash in almost a breathless whisper, “Always brings me back to center…I’m so thankful for your voice Gary, I’m so thankful I have my mother and so many wonderful friends that I consider family to watch out for me….I’m sorry, at times it looks like I’m ignoring you, I haven’t…I haven’t always been there, as much as I should have” –

“You’re my rock Ash, yes you have, don’t think that” –

“And you’re mine, I” –

“I told you before, I don’t know what I would have done without you after Gramps passed, you saved me, you literally saved me…”

Their foreheads touched….. “….And you saved me. Gary, back there. You and Audi, I’m so lucky to have had two people reach into, into hell for me, and haul me back…” Ash squeezed Gary’s hand, and Gary squeezed back, “…Lisa felt like she didn’t have anyone, not even her own family…..” Ash looked away briefly, “It’s, not for me to say, because I don’t know, I don’t know what happened between Lisa and Mary, and it’s not my place at all to pass any hint of judgment…..I just, wish things had worked out better between them….”

What is this, fear? Fear. Fear….you feel in him…..Missing…..missing?

Gary kissed Ash’s nose, “Ash, you know no matter what, you have my support, you have my love, you have every single bit of me.” *Till the day I die…*

A desperate smile broke over Ash’s face, a soft hopeful light returning to his eyes, “Gary” –

Gary pulled him in for another long and cherished kiss.

#palletshipping #ash ketchum #gary oak

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davekatweek · 7 years

Text

Baby Steps: DaveKat Week Day 1 Post-Canon

@davekatweek

https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miriage/pseuds/Miriage

Baby steps.

Like every relationship there were baby steps.

At least, you called them baby steps. Karkat would probably call them something hilariously long, complicated, and only slightly annoying, or maybe wouldn’t even get the cultural reference at all and say something about how steps weren’t important when you had to learn how to fucking outrun a grub eating beast with only six stick legs that resembled broken toothpicks.

Whatever it was called though, it was baby steps.

It began when you and him were curled up on the couch together watching some shitty show (that did not have Jake’s ass on it thank you very much) and being all domestic and cute and “aww” and shit (“Shut up and go cuddle your own troll Rose.”) when it happened.

Like any good boyfriend (that’s what you were calling and you were “nope-ing” any other iteration of the term. You would’ve dabbed it out too but the last time you did that you had been suplexed you by your dabbing arm onto a table by none other than the other half of your relationship party. The student had truly become the teacher) you had started out the night with the “Let’s count how many shoulders we have” game (“Four Dave. There will always be four fucking shoulders no matter how many times we play this pathetic excuse for a red-but-is-so-pale-it’s-the-color-of-John’s-ass flirting game. Just put your fucking arm around me or I will bite you again.”) and now had your left arm draped against Karkat (you only received one bite from him when you did it this time. Nice.) You could’ve stayed there for hours, days, weeks, months and maybe one year, letting the television melt your brain and playing the “see if you could spot John flying in the sky” game (you were beating Karkat by four John’s) but the unfortunate reality was that you were but a man with a man sized body and man sized insides.

“Gotta take a piss babe. Make sure my spot doesn’t get taken.”

Karkat had rolled his eyes at you and told you that he would make sure the butt indentation on the couch wouldn’t be replaced by any other assholes’ ass (to which you replied that you were glad he was protecting the virgin markings of your rump’s couch crater from those who wished to sit away the “Mark of the Strider from the House of Strides.”) and you left him there with Ghost Butt Strider. When you came back though, that’s when the first of the many metaphoric baby steps “happened.” Because when you came back he was wearing your hoodie.

Your red hoodie.

He was practically drowning in it actually. The sleeves were too long, the front pockets made him look like he was had grown a womb for a baby marsupial like creature, and the hood was spilling over the sides of his shoulders as he pressed his back against the couch. All in all, he looked like a messed up little Red Riding Hood.

But he was still wearing your red hoodie.

It was after that that the steps of baby progression…progressed.

In your house-hive hybrid (you liked to call it the “HHH”) he began “borrowing” your clothes. He wore your red hoodies (“I’m cold and this was on the ground so it’s mine now.”) your red shirts (“It’s too hot to wear a fucking sweater Dave and I’m not bothering Kanaya on her day off with Rose.”) even your red pants (“…. I lost a bet okay Strider? Don’t give me that shitty ‘I-just-crapped-my-pants look!”).

At first you had believed all his excuses (including the “lost the bet one”) and you had maybe been a little kind of “shot through the heart” pleased (ecstatic) whenever you saw him wearing something of yours.

(Fine, it turned you on. There happy? You admitted it out loud. Whoop-Dee-Fucking-Do.)

But then you began to notice a pattern in the clothes he picked.

Karkat would ignore the black t-shirt of yours on the ground near the foot of your bed and instead wear the red one from the closet. He would get up from couch snuggles to grab your red hoodie from the kitchen where you left it even though there was blanket just underneath his ass. He would grab your red socks and pull them on, not even batting an eye when your better (more ironic) socks (with pictures of bananas with faces on it) were right under his nose.

He would grab every item of clothes of yours that was red.

Red. Red. Red.

He only wore this red (your red) at the HHH though. The “outside” Karkat still wore black. The darkest color. The Batman of colors. The lack of absorption of light color.

Black sweater, black pants, black shoes.

Black. Black. Black.

Of course no one thought this was strange, weird, unusual, and/or mysterious. Karkat wore black and that was it. End of discussion. Over and out. This was who he is and what he was. Someone (some-troll you guess?) who wore black. Nothing unnatural here. No siree.

So it was only you who knew of the disturbances in the Karkat-force. It was only you who knew what he would do after entering the HHH. It was only you who got to see him, relaxed and sleepy eyed from a day of suggesting (shouting) instructions for New New New Can Town (he refused to let you call it “Can Town 3: Return of the Return of the Cans”) wearing your red t-shirt. It was only you who got to see him in his “Little Red Riding Karkat” hoodie persona, snuggled up against your arm as the two of you watched movies or played video games.

You didn’t make a comment on it though. You didn’t say the obvious (“You’re wearing red.”) or the “pretending-to-be-dumb” obvious (“So I noticed you’ve been wearing some of my clothes lately.”) or the punny obvious (“Well Karkat it looks like you’re red-y for movie night right? I hope this movie is just like that shitty book you red.”).

You just scooped him up and buried your face in his neck like you always did because this was Karkat taking those steps. Those tiny, microscopic steps.

Those baby steps.

When your friends see him wearing red for the first time, it’s a mistake.

You were outside, watering your plastic plants (to keep up appearances because fuck it, you’re not Jade or Jake or whatever other J-like-entity who knew how to garden and grow a tyrannosaurus rex) when you’re attacked from both your pelvic region and your opposite pelvic region from two different attackers: John from an air assault and Jade from a ground assault. You roll your eyes as they have the audacity to laugh at you (you were not caught by surprise like they said you were) and you feel the words of the Strider forming on your tongue near your umami taste receptor when Karkat emerges from the HHH, looking sleepy and frazzled, wearing nothing but your red shirt and his boxers.

“I work my ass off every single fucking day from morning to when the sun goes to its fucking nocturnal rest and the one day I can actually close my pathetic eyes what do I get? Two idiots flying in from who knows where chatting like it’s a fucking wriggler’s sleep over.” he mumble-yells (aka: just says in a normal volume voice level.) He’s still mumble-yelling (aka: just talking) and doesn’t seem to care or notice anything unusual about himself as he leans against the doorframe of HHH in just his sleepwear.

But you notice.

You notice and a swell of panic suddenly manifests itself in you and you try to send a mental mind message to Karkat that consists of the words “red” and “boxers” and “change” because you don’t know if he knows or even think he knows he’s ready for this.

If he’s ready to be caught like this.

If he’s ready to be seen wearing this…. red.

Your hope of him receiving said message is stopped however when Jade complements him for his choice in sleepwear. Complements the shirt he was wearing.

Complements the red shirt he was wearing.

It’s a complement, yes, but it’s also a hidden “What the fuck are you wearing?” statement hidden behind giggle and glasses. It’s an acknowledgment of something you had been acknowledging but not acknowledging for…. some time now.

The emphasis on the words “red shirt” makes Karkat pause and look down at himself and the words “shit” and “abort” flashes across your mind (and probably Karkat’s too) as his morning crankiness is replaced by a morning look of suddenly awakened surprise. He doesn’t say anything, just looks down at his shirt (your shirt) and stays looking at it for longer than a normal person should be looking at something and you’re forced to stand there and watch the gravity of the situation unfurl around you as an unexpected silence overcomes the four of you and you hope you are the only one who doesn’t feel the tension in said silence.

(But it’s there and you know John and Jade knows it’s there too. And it’s god-awful.)

John (of course it would be John wouldn’t it?) is the one who interrupts said silence, laughing nervously and breaking (destroying) the metaphoric “Don’t touch, Just Look” sign as he says that redlooks good on him.

On Karkat.

On angry troll of the century.

On your boyfriend.

You expect Karkat to turn and run back inside. You expect him to word vomit his way out of the situation (hell you would’ve done that.) You half-expect him to burst into tears or shudders or blushes (or fire) or something.

But to your surprise, all you get (all he says) are the words,

“Thanks…I think it looks good too.”

The funny thing about baby steps is that they are jaunty and awkward, too much in this direction and not enough in that. They look like they could never turn into people steps or even oldhobble-y grandma steps. But soon enough they turn into steps.

The same goes for Karkat.

After being seen in red, it’s like he begins experimenting with wearing red outside.

Sometimes he’d wear a lot of red (his “a lot” being your t-shirt and hoodie) take ten steps away from the HHH only to turn back and change back into black. Other times he’d wear a little (red socks, hidden underneath his pant legs) and stay out all day. Sometimes, he’d throw on a (your) red baseball hat and walk hand-in-hand with you around New New New Can Town’s construction, other times he’d be wearing enough black to make him look like a lump of coal painted black then sprinkled with ashes that were also black.

He seesawed between these two for months, never comfortable with one or without the other. He’d stumble around grabbing clothes and mixing and matching. He’d spend hours looking in the mirror wearing one outfit only to change it at the last second. He’d pretend not to worry or care about how much or how little red he wore outside only to press himself against your back whenever someone looked his way.

He was figuring things out clumsily, embarrassingly slow, and utterly charmingly.

Just like fucking baby steps.

But one day, somehow, after jumping from metaphoric rock to metaphoric rock, Karkat manages to find something that makes you feel even more proud than his perfected surplexes:

He finds balance.

He finds a red-black color wearing comfortableness.

No, he doesn’t dare wear anything as bright and eye startlingly catching as his dancestor’s red sweater (you were actually relieved at this), but simple reds, your t-shirt with a black jacket or his t-shirt with your red hoodie, he wears, first nervously, then comfortably, then confidently.

He wears this combination as he addresses a large (cheering) crowd. He wears this combination when the two of you meet with your friends. He wears it when you convince him to hold onto you (tighter) as you fly through the air.

He wears it, not for you or your friends, but for himself.

When he fastens a red tie, a bright red streak against a stygian colored shirt, the night you take him out for your anniversary dinner at a fancy-shamncy restaurant, it hits you full force that this is Karkat.

This is Karkat confident. This is Karkat unhindered. This is Karkat being himself.

This is him being free.

And it’s him looking like this, it’s him willingly wearing something so statement-like in a public, crowded, local place that you finally,finallycomment on it. On the red. On the color that once upon a time John had said looked good on Karkat. On the color you saw Karkat wear when it was just you and him. On the color he took baby steps to show to everyone.

On his color. On Karkat’s color.

You finally tell him what you thought all those weeks and days and hours and minutes ago, when it was just the two of you and he was buried in your hoodie:

“Red….” You begin as you reach out to Karkat to run a hand down his tie, “Looks great on you babe.”

(Because it does.)

Karkat smiles and lets you pull him close against yourself and lets you rub his back in a non-bro, totally romantic, and ironic form of intimate endearment.

“I know.” he whispers back. “I know that Dave.”

And you fucking love how he knows he knows.

#loooovely #fic #day one #miriage #DaveKat Week 2017 #submission

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xtreme-icecream · 7 years

Text

stuff idk how to write: werewolves, hanamaru, angst stuff i just written: werewolf hanamaru with angst anyway idk how i feel about it yet but have a yohamaru werewolf story hhh

words: ~4400 (warnings: descriptions may be graphic, minor bg character death, also just pretend their bus has a tiny tv in th front i forgot to check for reality too late oops.)

After too long, Hanamaru comes back home.

It’s late. She leaves mud in a trail behind her, through the door, up the stairs, into her room where at last her bones snap apart and back together, and her muscles burn as they tear and weave themselves back to familiar form and size.

When it’s over, she’s still exhausted. There’s a cold, heavy feeling in her stomach, like something’s wrong, but more than that she feels a thick haze in her head.

She can’t think. There’s school tomorrow. Her futon is there. She needs to sleep.

The morning news plays on the little TV at the front of the bus that Hanamaru and Ruby take to school. Hanamaru tries to tune out the report on the couple found dead in the thick of the small wood nearby.

Estimated time of death: between the hours of midnight and 5AM. There’s a lot of collateral damage in the area surrounding the corpses. The police say it points to an attack by a wild animal, but they’re hesitant to make a definite statement because there are no such animals wandering about Numazu.

Investigations are fast now, because nowadays they expect casualties like these. It turned into something of a nightly thing for them to send people out at night to prowl for dead bodies. The lack of them these recent few months had some hoping the deaths had ended.

Too bad about last night.

In any case, the report is fast and succinct. The camera work beats around the worst of the carnage and any descriptions on the damages and wounds the couple sustained are kept to a decent, broadcast-passable minimum. It seems it’s only the police and Hanamaru who might know about how the young lady died quickly from a messy bite to the jugular and not the impact to the back of her skull, or maybe how the young man’s leg was ripped off only after his spine had snapped twice, or that maybe, maybe if he just hadn’t pulled that knife out he’d still be—

“Hanamaru-chan? Hanamaru-chan, listen to me.”

Ruby is nudging Hanamaru’s leg with her knee. The news has moved on to something about rice imports. From the looks of the outside, they’re still a good ten minutes away from arriving at school.

“Hanamaru-chan,” Ruby says. Her voice is soothing. The skin under her eyes is a little darker than usual. “You looked a bit spaced out. You were watching, weren’t you?”

“Oh… Yeah. I was.” Hanamaru just keeps from tacking an apology on at the end.

Instead of saying anything, Ruby finds Hanamaru’s hand and squeezes it. “Just don’t dwell on it too much, okay? Everything’s going to be all right.”

She does a cute little nod at the end of that sentence, to prompt Hanamaru to agree with her or something like that. So Hanamaru does. Things are fine. It’s going to be okay.

When they arrive at school, Ruby strays from the routine path to the classroom for a detour to the student council office. It’s a quick errand for Dia, who has to stay at the hospital for a while to watch the new stitches on her leg for the wounds she got last night.

Hanamaru’s a touch grateful. If Dia hadn’t stepped in, it would’ve been Ruby on the news today.

The lunchtimes Hanamaru spends helping out at the library are her favourite times of the week. She was never one for noise, people, and noisy people, and the library at Uranohoshi provided her with just the perfect dearth of that. People visited the library often enough, but outside of the worst exam crunch times, there was never a soul who willingly stayed for any longer than five minutes.

There was one exception to all of that, though—a noisy person that Hanamaru really didn’t mind who actually stayed at the library to read for extended periods of time.

Yoshiko Tsushima arrives again today, this time with a stack of books she places at the counter with a heavy thump. “Done!” she says proudly.

Hanamaru pulls the stack close and skims over the titles on the spines. Save for one book about low budget gardening techniques, they all belong in the section for myth and the occult. They were also all borrowed on different days, and due for return on different days, with only about half arriving on the counter on time.

“And your late return fee comes up to… eighty-seven yen,” she says after a little math.

“Totally worth it,” Yoshiko says, reaching into her pocket for her wallet. There’s a self-assured smile on her face as she does so.

As Yoshiko digs around for the proper change, Hanamaru proceeds with the menial task of scanning and logging the books in record.

“What was it all about this time?” she asks.

The coins in Yoshiko’s change clink as she drops them onto the counter, and a timed beat later she places her hand on her chin and grins to herself. “I had taken this opportunity to educate myself on beings of the other world,” she says. “From the common dragon to the leshi, I’ve made sure to become familiar with a veritable legion of hellish beasts.”

Hanamaru smiles. “Got a new favorite?”

“No,” Yoshiko says. “Chimerae remain objectively superior, but if you’d like, I could share something about coeurls?”

Then Hanamaru indulges her, and they slip into old routine—storytelling after a finished collection of “forbidden tomes” and avid, eager listening.

Yoshiko was always a big person in many ways, but there was, apparently, something to be said about how good of an open ear Hanamaru was. At good parts her eyes lit up, at dull ones her shoulders would sink, her lip would curl when she had something smart to say, and there were some things, important things, that she would remember with her heart. It took a while to understand them, but those were things she never forgot, and somehow she remembered more about Yoshiko than Yoshiko did about herself.

And Hanamaru, in turn, didn’t know these things about herself, until Yoshiko came up to her one afternoon and told her that it was how she fell in love.

“We’re sorry we couldn’t cure you,” Dia tells her, leaning on the tea table of her house’s living room. “And sorry for… what happened afterwards.”

Hanamaru nods. They’re all sorry and all disappointed, but she honestly couldn’t ask for more than the kindness of the Kurosawa sisters with her issue. As confidants they were beyond trustworthy, and they took such huge risks for the sake of saving Hanamaru that it seemed unthinkable.

But as saintly as they were, they weren’t looking to be martyrs. By now they must’ve figured Hanamaru wasn’t worth the danger. Dia doesn’t look at her the way she used to.

“I’m afraid this is as far as we can go,” she continues. “We can’t afford to take any more risks. To ourselves or otherwise.”

“I understand,” Hanamaru says. “That’s how things gotta be sometimes, I guess. I’ll try to do things the way I was doing them before, then.”

“For now, that might be for the best.” Dia straightens up and bows, a little off-balance. “Again, we’re sorry for our shortcomings. We wish you the best, Hanamaru-san.” Then she walks away.

Hanamaru stays the ‘Thank you’ the end of her tongue in hopes that Dia won’t close the door on her, and she’ll turn around and say she has one more idea, another last chance for Hanamaru.

Dia doesn’t, of course, so Hanamaru goes home kicking herself over her ingratitude.

The ocean at night is cold enough to kill during the later weeks of fall. Hanamaru has to hide away in the thick of the wood again until sunset, and wait for the moon to stir the wolf awake.

And when it wakes, she suffers through the change again—snapping joints and tearing muscle, her jaw cracks to make room for rows of new fangs and jagged teeth, and the stretching her spine has to do to reach the height of the beast rips the feeling away from her limbs as it snaps in place, its revolting crackles muffled by flesh and rustling leaves. New eyes, muscle, bones, new skin, a new stomach that almost asks more for blood than meat.

The wood she hides in isn’t as dark in this form, and the smell of the sea mixing with the thick and teeming vegetation is so much crisper she can practically taste it. Though her mind is hazy with the aftershocks of pain, the world is so much more vivid. It’s always a shame she can’t experience it as she likes.

Her nose picks up strangers a short distance away, behind her, but she insists on running forward, to the ocean. Only then can she bear the sharp cold of the water.

She dives to hunt, because the wolf has to eat, or she can’t turn back. Somehow with just the scant light of the moon she hunts down a few dozens of fish that escaped the nets of the boats in the distance, and bites them whole, even if it takes hour upon tiring hour to eat her fill and the icy water mats her fur and weighs it down. It’s an ordeal, and she hates the feeling of grinding little fish bones and skulls between her teeth most of all, but compared to the real human lives she’d cost otherwise, it’s a bargain.

By the time she’s finished and dripping seawater back on land, the moon hangs high in the sky. Her body breaks back down to human size, her own, real skin, which prickles and almost stings at how cold it is.

Hanamaru digs through a specific patch of undergrowth for the dark canvas bag holding her change clothes, which she throws on as quickly and quietly as she can manage. It’s just her boots and the jacket left when she notices shadows moving.

The light is from behind her. She turns, a dangerous ache bristling in her jaw again, and then recoils at the sight of Yoshiko.

“Zuramaru?” Hanamaru can’t dare to look at her, but leaves crunch underfoot as Yoshiko approaches. She’s so close that Yoshiko has to turn her flashlight away from the both of them so Hanamaru doesn’t get blinded. There’s a firm, anxious hand on Hanamaru’s arm. “Zuramaru, it is you! What are you doing here—why is your hair so wet?”

There’s nothing but concern in her voice. Hanamaru knows she sees the bag and probably smells the blood and the ocean from her person, because Yoshiko is too keen around her. She wants to run, but her body just refuses to move.

So Yoshiko does. Amid all the warning signs blaring in her mind and fogging her thought, she can still hear a zipping sound. Somehow Hanamaru doesn’t resist putting her arms through the sleeves when Yoshiko holds her coat up for her, and she finds the warmth and weight so comforting she wishes she could just fall asleep already.

"Okay," Yoshiko says as she zips the front up for her, "you don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but geez you're going to catch a cold... Ah, here, my scarf, it'll catch the water from your hair."

Yoshiko wraps it around Hanamaru's neck and shoulders so gingerly, like she has no clue what Hanamaru is or what she's done, at all. And then she has the audacity to wrap Hanamaru in a hug, where she's sure her face is pressed against sea-soaked, freezing cold hair.

What's wrong with her?

There's some warmth tickling her ear from Yoshiko's breath when she asks, "Hanamaru, are you okay? Can you at least tell me that?"

Hanamaru stays in Yoshiko's hold for just a little while longer, trying to keep from tearing up. "Yeah," she mutters eventually. "I'm fine, Yoshiko-chan. Just soaked."

Yoshiko squeezes Hanamaru one more time. "Okay. Let's get you home? You live in the temple nearby, right?"

Hanamaru nods into her shoulder, and Yoshiko pulls back, takes her hand, and leads them both off.

The path they take is nearly void of any other passersby, which Hanamaru appreciates of Yoshiko, but it’s also void of any conversation until after the woods and the short trail, when the guest entrance comes into view.

“You’ll be alright here?” Yoshiko says, squeezing Hanamaru’s hand. It breaks her out of a daze.

“Yeah,” Hanamaru says. “Yeah, it’s… warmer at home.”

“Good.”

They reach the doorstep and let go. Hanamaru takes her first steps inside, then makes to take Yoshiko’s scarf off when her hands stop.

“Will you want these back?” she asks. On her mind is how it’s soaked and probably smells strange, so she hopes Yoshiko says no.

“Ah, you can keep them for now,” Yoshiko says, probably forcing that grin on her face, “to wash and all, heh. I mean, that’s how courtesy goes, isn’t it? Er…”

“But then what about you, Yoshiko-chan?” Hanamaru asks. “You live far away, don’t you? How will you go back by yourself like that?”

Yoshiko shrugs. “Exams are coming up soon. I’d have gotten a cold anyway. But you…”

She’s looking at her like that again. It’s hard to see because the temple is dark and moonlight can’t break between leaves easily, but Hanamaru has always been able to feel it.

“Nothing,” Yoshiko says, turning around. “Take care of yourself, okay? I’ll see you soon.”

In lieu of saying goodbye, Hanamaru just watches Yoshiko walk away.

When she curls up in her futon, she remembers the look she gave her. Hanamaru knows what it means. ‘What’s going on with you?’ ‘Are you really alright?’ ‘Please let me help you.’

She hates it. She’s terrified of it. She wants Yoshiko to give up on her.

It’s not what she tells her when she sees her again at school and gives her clothes back, but it’s all she can manage.

“Don’t go there again,” Hanamaru says.

Yoshiko’s demeanor takes on a rare kind of gravity. It’s good that Hanamaru had the foresight to confront her after class. The room is empty aside from them and the sun sets early today, coloring everything red-orange. There’s dormant heat in the air, or maybe just in Hanamaru’s ever-eager imagination, but either way she’s glad no one is around to interfere.

“Why not?” Yoshiko says, standing up. “You don’t even know what I was doing there.”

“It doesn’t matter what you were doing there,” Hanamaru says. “You can’t go back. It’s for your own good.”

“My own good? Then what about you, Hanamaru?” Oh no. “Why were you out there, by yourself, half frozen to death? I worried about you every night after that!”

“Then stop worrying about me!” Hanamaru speaks louder to match, which makes her all kinds of uncomfortable, because it’s just not like her at all. “There’s nothing about me to worry about. Please, worry about yourself, Yoshiko-chan.”

“Nothing about you—that’s bullshit, how can you tell me to do that when you know how I feel about you? After I saw that? “

“That was nothing! Why won’t you ever just listen to me?”

Yoshiko’s hands hit her desk. “You never tell me anything! I know you need your privacy, but this? You could be in danger!”

Hanamaru grabs Yoshiko’s shoulders and looks her in the eyes. “You’ll be the one in danger, Yoshiko-chan! And you know why, so stop pretending you’re doing this to keep me safe. You can’t help me.”

Now, frozen under Hanamaru’s stare, Yoshiko can’t say anything. They don’t move, they don’t break eye contact, they’re not even sure they’re breathing, but slowly, maybe because she sees Hanamaru’s eyes welling up, the tension leaves Yoshiko’s shoulders.

“And if I told you I could,” she says quietly and unsurely, unlike herself, “would you let me?”

Hanamaru is exhausted. She lets her arms fall to her sides. “People have tried. Just stay away from me, Yoshiko-chan.”

But Yoshiko never listens.

She’s always been a little bit peculiar. Naturally rebellious to the norm. Midnight candle rituals, standing on the school rooftop on the coldest, rainiest days, downing hot sauce like candy syrup—the more absurd it seemed to be, the more likely Yoshiko was to do it.

Hanamaru finds this bold, eccentric spontaneity attractive in a way. So much so that she feared she might’ve even fallen in love with her because of it.

She still fears she loves Yoshiko, especially now that Yoshiko stands before Hanamaru with only a spray of blue flowers in her hand and a heartbeat loud enough for Hanamaru to hear even from ten paces away, over the rustle of leaves.

Hanamaru’s ears can only hear something like that through bones, muscle and skin because it’s something that she seeks out, along with Yoshiko’s shallow breathing, wide eyes, her cold sweat and trembling fingers…

But her heartbeat, drumming in her ears louder than rolls of thunder, is euphonious.

thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump

The thick coat Yoshiko wears is something Hanamaru comes to dislike almost immediately. It’s rough, and dry, and would just spoil her taste.

Her claws seem to bare themselves at it. And her teeth. Her fur bristles too, and something low rumbles from her throat.

But she does her damned best not to move, and hopes to everything she can think in her limited lucidity that Yoshiko finds a way to run where Hanamaru can’t get to her.

Naturally, Yoshiko does the exact opposite. She takes a step forward, holds the flowers out to Hanamaru, and shouts something Hanamaru can hear perfectly but not understand. She recognizes her name, “Hanamaru,” but the rest of it is just loud, maybe angry, and she takes it as a taunt.

It’s weak bait, but encouragement is encouragement, and Hanamaru is hungry. She pounces, and when she tastes blood, the last flimsy sliver of humanity slips out of her conscience.

And when it comes back, not too long later, it’s because she eats something wrong and horribly bitter. Her insides are burning, her throat feels raw, she can’t breathe, and her limbs feel like they’re being torn apart from the inside out.

When Hanamaru comes to next, there’s something that tastes like dirt in her mouth, and the stench of blood is so strong she physically flinches and digs her face into the warm mass underneath her.

It shifts, and coughs, and… holds Hanamaru tighter?

Yoshiko.

The blood.

Yoshiko.

Hanamaru shoves herself up. “Yoshiko-chan!”

It is Yoshiko beneath her, pale, bleeding from deep, frightening wounds around her right arm. Only the stems of the flowers in her hand remain, and her fingers only seem to curl around them from the cold now that her gloves are torn, but she’s breathing.

Then she coughs. “Zuramaru,” Yoshiko says weakly. “Hi. You’re back.”

Hanamaru sees Yoshiko’s mouth warped in a grimace for her, and she has so many things to say that she can’t speak at all, so she just crumples into Yoshiko’s chest and tries not to let her crying break into full sobs.

In these minutes she realizes she’s wearing a coat with end of the right sleeve torn and stained black, and between that, Yoshiko’s wounds, and the flowers being missing, Hanamaru pieces together what must’ve happened.

And despite what she’s done, what kind of pain she might’ve inflicted on Yoshiko, at that moment she can’t feel anything but selfish gratitude and relief because this time, this time, no one’s dead.

The thought echoes in her head for long moments after that, as Hanamaru, still dazed from everything, lets herself a minute of rest. With her ear pressed into Yoshiko’s chest, Hanamaru finds her heartbeat again. It’s calmer this time.

Thump-thump.

Thump. Thump.

Thump.

Yoshiko gasps hoarsely, and Hanamaru jolts up. “Yoshiko-chan?”

Yoshiko’s eyes are unfocused, but she manages to shove her phone into Hanamaru’s hand. The screen is lit, displaying the emergency contact number for the nearest hospital.

“Maru, listen,” Yoshiko says, out of breath and voice trembling. “Wolfsbane poison gets into wounds. Hurry.”

Her arms go limp, she starts coughing, and Hanamaru, as she sees this, wastes not an instant calling the hospital and telling them what she knows, as fast as she can.

If she’d really gotten better, if the wolf is really gone, she can’t let Yoshiko’s be the life it takes with it.

The paramedics have the courtesy to only ask Hanamaru about Yoshiko, and outside asking if she needs medical attention, too, the only effort they direct to her goes into words of reassurance. They can save Yoshiko.

They can save Yoshiko.

They save Yoshiko.

Days pass, then a week, then two. Since staying was too expensive, Yoshiko and her family decided to just move her home after several days passed and her condition stabilized enough. She hadn’t come to school since.

As far as their classmates knew, the most of Hanamaru’s involvement about Yoshiko’s “accident” was that she was just the first among them to find out. It was a piece of information they made and agreed upon by themselves, and Hanamaru made no effort to make them think anything otherwise.

She did volunteer to be the one to bring notes over, though, even if Yoshiko lived so far away from her own home.

Hanamaru knocks on the door to Yoshiko’s apartment, and steps in once Yoshiko voices her acknowledgement.

“Hey Zuramaru,” she says, eyes glued to her television screen. “You forgot about the bell again?” Even when part of her forearm and wrist is covered in medical wrap, she doesn’t seem to have much trouble with her game controllers. Good to know her hand wasn’t too impaired.

After shutting the door behind her, Hanamaru places a notebook at the foot of Yoshiko’s bed, and sits down next to her on the floor. “I think I like knocking better, anyway.”

Yoshiko hums. Hanamaru’s only seen her play a handful of times, but she can gather from watching that the next thing Yoshiko does is find a place to save before exiting the game and lowering the controller to her lap, where her stare lingers for a while.

“So…” she says, drawing the word out. “How about it?”

Hanamaru’s brow tightens. “Yeah. I think I’m ready to talk.”

“Okay. Uh…”

“First of all,” Hanamaru continues, hunching over a little, like the words are that heavy. “Never do something like that again, hear me? Especially not without telling me first.”

Yoshiko flinches. “H-Hey, in my defense, you would never have said yes—“

“Of course not! Handling poison, showing yourself in front of a-a werewolf, it’d be like asking you to die for me!”

“But it worked, and I didn’t, and nothing like that’s ever going to happen again!”

Hanamaru looks up. “That’s not the point, Yoshiko-chan. I know what you did worked, and I’m better now, and nothing like that’s ever going to happen to either of us again, but you scared me!” She pauses, glancing at Yoshiko’s dazed expression and back away, and then she takes a deep, shuddering breath. “I was terrified, okay? You came so close to dying so many times because of me. I don’t know how I’d handle letting that happen to someone I feel like this about.”

Her voice got quieter and quieter until she finished, and Yoshiko let the silence remain. Until one of them found it in themselves to speak again she moved to find the fist Hanamaru buried on her lap and wrap her fingers over it.

Then she squeezed it gently and said, “I’m sorry. For scaring you, I mean. Really reckless of me.”

“It’s okay,” Hanamaru says. “I think. It’s over now, after all.”

Yoshiko nods. “Yeah.”

“…And besides,” Hanamaru says, “it’s still kinda my job to keep you from doing dumb things like that.”

There’s a pause were Hanamaru glances back at Yoshiko again, shooting her a sort of half-smile. Yoshiko sees, returns it, and playfully bumps her elbow on her. “No kidding. I’d just be a mess without you around.”

“Oh, I doubt it’s anything like that. You’re such a veritable force of chaos that sometimes I feel like a buzz in your ear.”

Yoshiko chuckles darkly. “’Force of chaos,’ you say? I find that a high praise, even from a being of such holy light as yours.”

“Shut up, Yoshiko-chan.”

“Ah, the scorn of heaven—a most familiar burn.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Hanamaru shoves Yoshiko by her head, earning them both a faint chuckle, and Yoshiko shoves Hanamaru back a bit herself before deciding to lean on her.

“But seriously,” Yoshiko says. “That aside, I think I should start listening to you more often. You’re smarter about me than I am.”

“Maybe,” Hanamaru says. “And actually, even if I’m not a werewolf anymore… I don’t know, it doesn’t feel over.”

“What do you mean?”

Hanamaru wrings her hands. “They weren’t so many, but there were people that I… so…”

“It wasn’t you,” Yoshiko says.

“We can’t say it was anyone else,” Hanamaru says. “It’s all on me, Yoshiko-chan.”

Yoshiko looks away, to a corner of the room, and frowns. “So you say,” she mumbles. “I don’t know how that must feel for you, as usual for me, but at least this time you don’t have to deal with it on your own.” She shifts somehow closer. “There’s time for us to figure this out.”

Her words take time to sink in, but Hanamaru feels Yoshiko’s right. She nods, and Yoshiko smiles.

“So, anything else?” Yoshiko says.

“No,” Hanamaru answers. “I’m taking this a bit at a time. I’m not good at jumping into things all at once like you are.”

“Oh, guess it’s my turn, then!” With a sudden little burst of energy, Yoshiko sits up and spins around so that Hanamaru can see her smirk clear as day. “What’s this earlier about ‘someone I feel like this about,’ eh, Zuramaru? Feel like what?”

And seeing Yoshiko’s smirk, Hanamaru feels light, for the first time in a long while. “Yoshiko-chan, I think you’re just a little nasty, you know that?”

“Aw, what?”

Hanamaru can be honest now. There’s no reason for her to fear herself or how she feels.

So she tells Yoshiko the truth.

#yohane is a furry.docx #xtreme writes #4 years of fic spewing n i still cant write sad stuff fsr. i mean in general iv nver been able to write but #o i wasnt able to include it in the writing itself but actually maru is still a werewolf in the end she just doesnt have to Devour Flesh #also wolfsbane is so Nasty n everywhere treats it like nothing. 'picked up some wolfsbane' yea cool nice we're not Dead #i know there are gloves and Being Careful but still u can totally use it to kill regular humans too. mammalsbane

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