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muffindaddystyles · 3 years

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MASTERLIST

SO. . this masterlist is more friendly to read and it was itching my nerves to make a proper one with all of my writings. Have a wonderful harry land journey!! I will keep updating it lovies.

ALL THE DRABBLES AND REQUESTS (*)

Dentist The Bad Boi: Y/N is Harry's grumpy neighbour who blames him for her cats pregnancy -- actually no! (Blames his cat)

“Would you like to have, noodles? I know this incredible chinese place ...” He shakes his head. His smile small and kooky, nose scrunched up as he sniffs the air – predicting a rain coming soon.

“D'we have to eat after every tragedy that happens t’you?”

“Yup, tragedies makes me hungry.” It’s her coping mechanism if she'll be honest and that’s what she’s been doing for ages.

“Who are you, Y/N?

Hates To Hate you: Harry fake dates Y/N to keep the calms about his personal life.

1) She has to come over his house before they've to go anywhere, he has a reason for it, "That's some stupid rule." She retorted twisting a hole in the hem of her fuzzy shirt.

2) She can't stay overnight at his place, "Why? afraid, I'll seduce you?" She teased him wiggling her brows and he looked down at her feet smirking equally teasingly, "Seduce me? Far from that, with these froggy knickers and bunny slippers you're wearin' neve'," She just huffed ready to intrude with a reason that this is what everyone wears while sleeping but he barged in with more rules.

3) She has to call him Mr. Styles when they're alone to keep their relation professional, "You've weird kinks Harry -- oops -- I mean Mr. Styles." His response didn't hold any particular sentiment as he continued elaborating.

Black Anchor: Y/N goes to sex club for the very first time and Harry's there, till he's hiding something from her.

“Can we join.” She asks turning to look at Y/N with same lust ridden eyes. Y/N shies away further more from the severe gazes of both the man and woman so Harry cuddles her up into him kissing her rose smelling hair and keeps his lips there, for a moment making them wait on his answer.

“Can we?”

His expressions flattens unimpressed, “No.” He dismisses them bringing his attention back to Y/N, but they lurk there.

“Now, C’mon Styles. Y'got a pretty birdie doesn’t mean you could act all selfish. Sharing is caring.” That women says grazing her blunt nail up Y/N's arm.

Harry smacks it away rolling his eyes brutally appearing done with them, “I said no Marie,” He kisses his teeth taking a step forward towering her.

Kismets: Y/N is carrying a baby for Harry and his girlfriend --- but something went downhill Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

"Can ya stop breathing like, THAT!?" She whisper yells twisting to give him a sharp glare full of spleen elbow poking at his side abs, "Like what!?" He half squeaks peering down at her with doe eyes palms flat at sides to convey his surprise.

"Like a train engine whistling -- it's annoying." She mutters rolling her eyes and turning back to listen to instructor.

"Now, I can't even breath without ye' comin' fo' me throat?" He grits with a kink of brows and when she confirms with a no --- He gasps dramatically. It's gonna be a long journey of Hell for them. Harry hates her hormones. Little bitches.

Sweet Hormones: Harry and Y/N quarantining together and she finds a scary news.

"Will it affect our marriage?" He asked anxiously. She shrugged muttering and looking down at her barely visible bump. For the first time she felt so lonely, "depends on you."

"You're scarin' me darlin'." He rushed out without an explanation to his friends taking the first flight back to London. He was already exhausted and jittery. Now emotional too assuming worst scenarios of what happened in the sudden change of her mood.

Happy Meals: Y/N is feeling down and Harry reaches out to figure out what is wrong because he loves her.

“M’ s’ sorry baby. Such a dickhead I’m.” He wipes your tears with his hands lost inside you hair and thumbs stroking the apples of your cheeks.

“Then again people had to throw it on my face that I’ve gained extra fats—” Harry grunted at this nose flaring, “who the fuck told ya—oh my god.” His eyes enlarging and he felt so fucking remorseful that this’s what you were insecure of from days.

Don't Worry Darling: Harry being comfortable to experience wild things in bed with Y/N.

He inhales through his parted lips sprawled onto his tummy and she scooted up where he has his face snuggled, “can you come for second time, lover boy. For me?” She just wanted to pleasure him to the extent where he sees stars and she knows he can take it.

Panic Attacks: Y/N gets a panic attack in her university and Harry is out of reach.

“Harry?” The drums came to halt, the guitar was stopped mid shrivel and Harry’s high note fell to ground when the receptionist came with a cordless phone.

“A phone for you from y/n university—” It was enough to smack his breath away and he scurried to his feet taking the phone hastily from her hold, controlling his voice to not yell at the person in his own anxiousness.

Hard Feelings: Y/N is a broke student that gets caught papping Harry.

When you got everyone's attention you announced "I'm moving out." making Harry choke on his waffles, "no the fuck you're not." He grunted as the girl he brought with him made him sip his water.

"We need to talk." He spoke curtly and everyone looked at both of you with curiosity. They all want you to be together so bad.

Y/N has a fear for needles and Harry is her damsel in distress.

His breath smells of strawberries and coffee, plushie lips dangerously close to her's making her half voracious gaze flicker between his lips and up at Tofu, kiss him kiss him you bloody fool, reeled in her head, "here lemme . . ." He notices her jitteriness fetching the birdy for her. She hiccups with a suck of breath when his knuckles brushed the inside of her palms while giving Tofu to her.

"Oi, Harry budge over you bugger!!" She hisses with sleepy voice but in return he squishes her more.

Hip Dislocation at first sight: Y/N is a waitress at Harrys downtown diner.

When he first came here it was for a date who stood him up and you wouldn’t lie that you kinda tiny bit of manifested for it but went through a broken heart seeing Harry’s sad eyes after him lingering to that one hope that his date would show up.

Young and Beautiful: Harry meets Y/N in Milan and had no-idea she would be mother to his twins. Part 2

Then there was silence that Harry was unaware how to break. He could hear you talking for an eternity. On the other hand you aren’t that akward to make conversations with people. No doubt you’re shy, and wants your own space to blossom but this one habit of yours is inseparable.

“You know when back home. An ice-cream man would come daily at midnight in summers. Me and my cousins would climb up his bicycle cart like darn monkeys. Pop our heads inside the freezer and annoy the fuck outta him. God I miss home.” There’s this un-pointable feeling. That’s unfigurative to Harry but it’s there; of admiration and of endearment. His heart’s at cloud nine caressing itself to the pink cotton candy.

Jasmine picker and the prince: Y/N thinks that prince eats heart of innocent girls and Harry is none like that. Part2

“And there you gave orders to bring me!” You yelled not fearful that he’s a Prince of the land you’re at. “What am I?” “Am I a sheep or a horse?” “Am I olives or eggs?” You hold your tears and the screams. “Talk to me! I said talk to me!!” You sobbed shouting at him blowing him with shoves and atlast he raised his voice speaking with gentleness at end.

“I didn’t gave orders to bring ye’. I didn’t even know you were comin’, ye’ 'ere a gift from Highnesses.” You stare him in disbelief, “a gift!?” “"M not a gift but a human!” “I’ve a family just like you.” He thins his lips, expression becoming taught as he listens you, eyes piercing fiercely.

“You’re such an oppressor, you’ll become an oppressing ruler!” You said furious at him. The words were like a on arrow ripping his heart.

Hireath: Y/N lost her memory because of an accident and hates her husband Harry. Part2

“I can't—pffft…dunno. sleep—” She stammered knuckling away tiredness and Harry just gestured her to climb in his embrace, “c'mere baby. Cuddles?” Her body molding against his’s like two pieces meant to stick with eachother.

“I like you Harry. You’re a good guy.” I’m litreally your husband Harry wanted to tease but she was already snoring loudly.

Y/N is brown and desi and Harry finds her lovely but is too shy to pursue her.

“Was studying…” He shakes his head not believing and she sighed muttering ‘okeys’. “I think my hotel room’s haunted.” He wants to laugh the fuck out at her face but he didn’t not when she’s on the verge of sleeping in his arms‐‐‐ so swallowed it down knuckling at her forehead, “I’ll tell Jeff to change ye'r room. already tol’ ye’ pet you could come t’ me for a sleepover anytime.” He stands up carefully trudging to pour her a glass of water trying to lighten up her mood, “bet….my nans hauntin’ ye’. always had a weird obsession with sweet blood.” She giggled scooting her knees closer to her chest appearing more smol than she already’s, Harry could put her in his pocket and take her with himself everywhere close to his heart. He avoided to cooe at her busying himself to find some paracetamol only turning back to find no-one. But, Adam and others slowly filling the room.

“Talking to yourself proves nothing but craziness, H.” He chuckled and Harry’s brows clinched together as he tries to find her.

Serendipity:Y/N interrupts Harry amidst his meal and ends up him clinging to her.

All the vampire!Harry x reader blurbs.

She ignores whatever he's saying craving the overwhelming feel of stars and flowers when he bites her, "Can you bite me, please?" He startles at that brows skyrocketing.

Giddiness stirring in his stomach and how bad he feels to brush her off, he has to do it for her sake. "Now, that's not an escape ye' should seek fo' right?" He gives her a stern look when she whines throwing her head back.

Forbidden Love: Harry and Y/N are rivals from childhood but a bad fight shifts something in between them.

“Meet ye' at --- ” He was about to speak but she clamps him off taking him and everyone by surprise at her temper, she's usually very witty and mature during their arguments, “Shut up, Styles.” She stares everyone confusedly when they erupt into laughters, bending onto their stomach to over exaggerate except of him. His dewy irirses which're usually caliginous with daunting harshness and intimidation softens at the moment as he stares her with guppy parted lips —-- not realizing that he's giving out his Alpha demeanour.

{Blurbs}

Reader with POTS Y/N has pots and she might got too flustered by Harry.

Lost in Italy Where Harry's cute assistant gets lost in city of Italy and the thought of loosing her drives him bullocks.

After all moon is just a rock, without the sun Y/N tries to leave somewhere far away from her bestie Harry.

Love brings patience Ex and drunk Harry's something that makes Y/N grump and melt at the same time.

I want to change mattresses for you Harry and Y/N fights over a damn mattress.

Keep holding my hand Harry was in an abusive relationship before Y/N, something happens that makes his insecurities float back.

Oh No baby! It was Harry who swimed but Y/N ends up catching a cold.

Tell me you love me before I go Harry and Y/N were sometimes bestfriend now they're just rivals (*)

You do Mr. Chewy Bubba losts her first pet and Harry's there for the heartbreak.

Hearth Celebrating Eid with Harry and the night prior it (desi/poc)

Love me, Wrestle me Your naughty time with harry unfortunately turns into an injury time.

Cookie Thief: Harry couldn't sleep and you helps him out.

Harry's 27th!!: You've planned everything for his special day.

Roles Reversed: Harry's going through a heartbreak and you're his bezzy.

Sweater Weather: Idle time turns into a smutty time [*]

Hershey Fucker: Harry makes you admit that you're jealous by giving you his fingers [*]

Grammy nominations You're there for Harry whether he wins an award or not.

Tangerines: You're a cheeky lil thing calling him hubby to earn a reaction from him.

Malato d'amore ♡

Sun Satulations : Good-bye sex [*]

After Darkies: You're pregnant and horny[*]

Fishie Nets: You're being batty so he teaches you how to obey [*]

Cheeky lil thing: Harry getting offended for being cursed by his bubba.

Pumpkin Carving: Halloween and your love is on full swoon.

Destination: You helps Harry's bubba to find him.

Italy Surprise: Harry comes back from italy with a squirrel.

Stripper Y/N and boss Harry.

Vampire!H and subby soft!Y/N.

Timetravler!H and UNI!Y/N

Y/N doesn't want kids, yet, but Harry does causing an argument.

#Harry Styles #harry styles masterlist #harry writings #my writings

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lizziedoesvetpath · 4 years

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Why are you cutting up that animal?

OR: What is a necropsy and why do we do it?

So I’ve had a fair few questions recently about pathology and thought it might be helpful to do a few summary posts of the different things we pathologists do. Today I’m going to tell you about the what, how, why, and when of necropsy!

Warning: This post is going to be about dissecting deceased animals. I won’t use any graphic pictures but if the topic upsets you in any way, this may not be the post for you. Ready?

1) What is a necropsy?

Necropsy is the word we use for the post mortem (after death) examination of animals. It’s the equivalent of a human autopsy. Basically we get the body of a dead animal and we follow a specific dissection process aimed at inspecting every organ for abnormalities that may explain why the animal was sick and/or died.

2) How do you do a necropsy?

Everybody has a slightly different technique, but in the end they should reach the same result. This is a quick run down of how I approach it (this is where we’ll get into some discussion of actually dissecting bodies, so skip this if that makes you queasy).

1) External exam: The first step is to look at everything you can see without opening the animal. Same as a physical exam on a live animal, we assess the fur/feathers/scales, skin, eyes, ears, inside the mouth, claws, and so on. This is important because it can start you down the right track as to what you’re going to find inside. For example, a cat that has been hit by a car usually has shredded claws, because they try to grab onto the road at the point of impact. Or if you find blisters in the mouth and between the toes of a pig you might want to quickly get on the phone with the state vet because you suspect foot and mouth disease! We also take note of identifying features of the animal (colour, brands, microchip number, ear tags etc) so that the findings can be matched to the right animal (which can be contentious in insurance or legal cases).

2) Opening the animal: So now I’m ready to start cutting. How you position the animal to start depends a bit on the species, but for your average mammal you’ll lay them on one side. I then get the legs, skin, muscles, and ribs out of the way so that the abdomen and thorax are open for inspection.

3) Stop and look for a minute: Before we take anything out it’s important to take a moment to look at how things are sitting. Are all the organs in the right place? What colour are they? Is there any fluid there shouldn’t be?

4) Examine the organs: Now that we’ve taken note of how things were, we can start taking things out and getting a more detailed look at them. Every organ gets its moment in the spotlight. Tubular organs get opened so we can look at the inside, and parenchymous (solid) organs get sliced into so we can see anything going on in the middle of them. And while we’re doing this, we take a piece of everything. Some things we’ll keep fresh for microbiological or toxicologial testing - lung, liver, spleen, and kidney usually, occasionally brain if it’s indicated - and everything else goes in formalin to preserve it for looking at under the microscope later.

5) Tidying up: After we’ve looked at everything, it’s time to clean up. This depends on what the owner wanted. Animals are often sent off for cremation after this process, but if the owner wants to animal back we can do what is called a “cosmetic necropsy”. When we do this we just get into the animal through one incision along its belly, which we stitch back up when we’re done. Overall, we try to be as respectful as possible, and if you do have concerns about the animal you are submitting for examination, you should talk to your pathologist! We’re happy to answer questions and will try to accommodate your needs during the process.

6) Writing a report: Every necropsy performed should be followed by a report lisitng everything we saw while we did it. This is a legal document which includes everything that was abnormal, everything that was normal, and anything needed to identify the animal.

3) So wait... why are we doing all of this?

For a lot of people, it can be hard to understand why we are still looking into what was wrong with an animal after it has died. And I get that, we’re a bit past the point of helping that animal once it reaches the necropsy floor, so who cares?

Well for one, in a significant number of cases the animal dies without us knowing why, and that makes it hard to find closure. Maybe your pet died suddenly, or it was being treated for something but died anyway. With a necropsy we can either give you a solid answer as to what caused your animal to pass away (maybe there was a tumor you didn’t know about, or a clot) or we can tell you that there’s no evidence of anything that you could have helped or prevented. That knowledge and reassurance can help owners process the death of their animal, and I’ve seen it make a big difference.

Secondly, if there are other animals involved or at risk, we can find out how to help them! This reason is most often applied to production animals where we can figure out herd health problems, but it can apply to pets from a household with other animals as well. If your dog dies from getting into something toxic, it’s good to know that happened so you can remove the poison and possibly save your other dogs from the same fate. Or if there’s an infectious disease moving through your herd of cattle, now you know how to treat or what to vaccinate against. It may be too late for the animal on my table, but that animal might still be able to help the others around it.

Thirdly, that information could help save animals you don’t even know. The information we find at necropsy can educate the vet who was treating it, students present for the examination, and the veterinary community at large. Maybe your animal presented unusually for a known disease, so your vet didn’t recognise what was happening. That’s sad, but vets are human too and can’t know everything. But now that they know what killed your pet, they’ll know to check for that in the next patient with the same presentation. Veterinary students see and participate in necropsy at school so that they can know what lesions look like before going out into practice. The more they can see, the more knowledge they are equipped with before your sick pet is in front of them. And maybe your animal had something wrong with it that nobody knew happened. If we can see that at necropsy we can publish information to teach vets all over the world that this can happen and we need to find out how to fix it.

If you’re still reading, thanks! I hope this has taught you a little something about the necropsy process. If you have any questions do feel free to ask, I love pathology and would like nothing more than to help people understand it and remove some of the suspicion that surrounds what we do. Next week I’ll be doing “What are you looking at down that microscope” OR what is histology and why do we do it? So if there’s anything you want to know about microscopic tissue examination let me know!

#pathology #vet path #veterinary pathology #vet med #vetblr #necropsy #post mortem #autopsy #tw animal death #tw dissection #vet #vet student #vetstudent #vetschool #vet school #pathology saturdays #pathologysaturdays

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naferty · 4 years

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Tony wakes up groggy, disoriented and with no recollection of where he is. At first, he thinks his room, but his room isn’t as white or spotless or has a strong sterilizing smell. It hurts his head just smelling it. Or maybe that’s just his head hurting in general from waking up somewhere unknown with no recollection of it.

He finds Rhodey sitting next to him, holding his hand and looking at his phone with his other. When Tony squeezes it Rhodey looks up and is relieved to see him awake.

“Tones,” he moves to sit on the bed. “How are you feeling?”

Tony frowns in thought. His head hurts and there’s a bit of throbbing pain in his left leg, but other than that it’s not too bad to warrant Rhodey’s concern.

“My leg hurts,” he admits, voice cracking. Rhodey quickly grabs the cup of water and a straw. Tony inhales the liquid in like a scorched animal in a desert.

“What happened?” he tries again, grateful his voice didn’t nearly send him into a coughing fit.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Rhodey moves strands of hair away from his eyes.

“I don’t - I don’t know.”

“That’s okay, that’s okay. Take your time. No hurry.”

Tony works his brain to remember something. Anything. The last thing he recalls is welcoming a new student to the academy. Hellcat if he remembered the name correctly. Something about hell and a cat is somehow involved. Sounded about right. After that, nothing. He had been with Pepper welcoming her, returned back to his tower and then he woke up in this bed with a headache and Rhodey next to him.

That had been in… August? Or sometime around there.

“We were welcoming new people. Hellcat? Daredevil?”

Rhodey frowns. Not a good look and not a good sign. “That’s what you remember?”

“Yeah, why? Did something happen?” Tony gives the room a quick scan. “Why am I here and why does my leg hurt?”

Rhodey squeezes his hand. “You got hurt, Tones. Got taken down while flying. Your suit took a lot of the damage but your leg still got nicked. Stress fracture. Not too bad considering everything. You’ll be getting a cast for it, though. Hope you’re ready.”

“Only if you carry me.”

“No carrying on my end. Someone else has that covered now.”

“Aww, Honey Bear, I don’t want anyone else carrying me but you. You know that.”

Rhodey shook his head. “Not these days, Tones. The honor of carrying around your ass goes to someone else now. Someone, I might add, that you absolutely love being carried by.”

“What are you talking about?” Tony lifts himself up to sit upright. Hurt like hell but now he’s able to get a better view of Rhodey. He notices his best friend has more of his War Machine suit on than usual. Where before he had been getting used to it. Now he’s wearing it with the same confidence as Tony does his own.

Not only that, but he can also almost swear that Rhodey looks a bit older now. He can’t put a finger on it, but somehow Rhodey looks as if a fair amount of time had gone by. A bit bulkier. Strong posture.

Where the hell as his Platypus been training recently for him to gain those muscles so fast?

“Well, uh,” Rhodey scratches his head. A nervous habit. A very telling tell. “There’s no easy way to say this.”

“Say what?” Oh shit, did something really bad happen besides him breaking his leg and not remember? Did whoever he had been fighting with do something to him? Run off with his spleen or kidney? Stolen his fridge of cheese? Hacked into his systems and stolen everything?

“Tones, what year is it?”

Tony blinked. Oh… crap. Usually, people only ask that question when memory loss is involved. Did his head get injured in the fall? How many years has he lost? It can’t be too many since Rhodey still looks more or less the same and it seems like they’re still in the Academy.

“It’s twenty-sixteen,” he says, fear slowly growing as his mind ran through scenarios after scenarios of what he could be missing from memory.

“Crap,” Rhodey rubs his forehead. Not a good sign. Never a good sign. “It’s okay, it’s okay, not too bad. Memory loss happens. Nothing we can’t handle together.”

“Honey Bear, what year is it?” His heart rate starts going faster. He’s terrified of the possibility of so much time going by and not remembering any of it.

“Tones, calm down. It’s not too bad. It’s twenty-nineteen. Only three years. We can handle this.”

“Three?” Tony repeats. Sure three doesn’t sound like a large number but it’s years! So much could happen in one year let alone three.

Rhodey hugs him. “Hey, it’s okay. We’ll handle this together. I mean it. Not much has changed. We’re still in the Academy. It just has more students than before. You’ll run into a lot of new faces but it’ll be okay. You’ve made a lot of improvements on your armor and mine. You’ll get used to it again. I’ll help every step of the way.”

Tony takes deep breaths. It’s all easy to say, but it’s still a lot of time taken away. People change. Is he still friends with Pepper? What about Jan? Loki? Do people who used to tolerate him hate him now? Is he still helping around in the Academy or has Nick kicked him out of board meetings?

As if knowing exactly what he’s thinking, Rhodey tells him, “Pepper was here earlier, but she got called away. I’m sure she’ll be back soon. Jan couldn’t skip another class. It’s Thursday. She’s already skipped all day yesterday. Couldn’t do another.”

Rhodey pulls away. “You know Loki wouldn’t be caught dead caring for someone where everyone can see. He’s getting updates from Jan, but he does occasionally skulk around here.”

“Oh,” that answers some. What about the others? “Anything big happened?”

“A bit,” Rhodey admits. “Besides the Academy’s weekly attacks, some big events have happened. Nothing that’s changed your life too much, though.”

Tony exhales. Doesn’t sound too bad.

“Jarvis has a body now.”

He blinks. “...what?”

“Jarvis has a body now,” Rhodey repeats slower. Hands out and at the ready to catch him should he fall at the news. “Walking, talking body with working arms and everything. It’s really cool. You’re really proud of it.”

“He… he has a body?!” That’s… that’s incredible! Jarvis has always behaved like a person, even with his digital coding, and Tony has always considered him as an individual all his own. Sassy, sarcastic, but still loyal and humble. Jarvis getting a body? That’s got to be the greatest thing that’s happened to him, and Tony can’t even remember it!

It absolute sucks.

“Where is he? The body, I mean.” Jarvis is always with him, but physically? Where is that?

“In the tower preparing everything for you. Make it cast friendly,” Rhodey gives his left leg a pointed stare.

“Okay, is that everything?”

His eyes go back to Tony. For a millisecond Tony can see them land somewhere on his shoulder before they go to his face. It’s enough for Tony to shakily raise his left hand to touch it. His shirt is thin enough to feel everything underneath. Nothing out of the ordinary on his shoulder but when he runs it over his neck he stops. The skin under his fingers isn’t as smooth as his shoulders. Marks are present. Barely noticeable really. Faded but still there. Located where one would place a bite to mark a mate.

Rhodey knows the moment he realizes what it means. He gives rapid nods in confirmation. “Yeah, it’s exactly what you think.”

“I got mated?” Tony nearly screams in hysterics because - holy shit!

“Not fully mated,” Rhodey is quick to correct. “You haven’t signed marriage licenses or had any kind of wedding. You marked each other to keep people off you. You’ll get officially hitched once you’re both ready. At least that’s what you’ve told me.”

“Off me?” That’s a very odd reason for it. Who would even be on him anyway? Tony has no suitors, no interests in him. Did he somehow offend someone and they’re sicking people on him? Is the mark meant to do damage control for it? “Did I screw up and pissed off someone?”

Rhodey’s mouth falls open. “What - no! What? - how did you come to - no, of course not! Shit, Tones, how can you come to the worst conclusions?”

“Doesn’t the worst usually happen?” He doesn’t mean to sound pitiful. It just sort of happens.

Story of his life.

“Not recently, no.” Rhodey puts a hand on his shoulder. “Yes, you get the short end of the stick sometimes - actually, you get it a hell of a lot more times than I’d like, but it’s not every day and certainly not for this. This mark,” he points to it, “you have this because you and your mate just happen to have the hots for each other.”

“Just the hots? That’s not encouraging,” Tony looks down. “So it’s a temporary thing.” Once this quick hot honeymoon phase is over they’ll separate no doubt.

“You both call it love but I’m not about to feed that disgusting fire you have going. You both need to cool it with the affection. It’s traumatizing some of us.”

“Who am I even mated to?” The million-dollar question. Who ended up getting stuck with him? Who did he manage to convince to give him a try? From what he remembers, no one he knows has really caught his eye. In and outside of the Academy. No one, except for a certain Captain that he may or may not have had a crush on since his childhood. Odds are pretty low, the bottom of the barrel low, that Steve is his mysterious mate.

Oh, but how strong he could hope.

When Rhodey doesn’t answer right away Tony asks again. “Who’s - who’s my mate, Platypus? A new face? Someone outside the Academy? Who’s the unlucky person?”

“I don’t think he considers himself unlucky mating you, and don’t talk about my best friend like that.” Rhodey gives him a playful hit. “He’s a good guy. Don’t disrespect.”

“I love you, too.”

“Careful he doesn’t hear you say that. He’s a possessive asshole.”

“So a guy,” that doesn’t narrow down the list much but it is surprising. Tony really thought he’d get a girlfriend, but turns out he went and got a boyfriend instead.

Howard would be so proud of him for proving that right. ‘Why have a broad when you’ll probably be the broad?’

He didn’t know how to feel if he ended up mating to a male alpha. With the posturing and the aura of dominance he couldn’t create just waiting to be smacked across his face everyday, taunting him. Howard did always say he was a sorry excuse of an alpha. Better suited to be another alpha’s... well, you know.

At least he and this guy love each other, right?

“Who’s this guy?”

“Well, it’s -”

“I’m here! I’m here! Tony?” A voice interrupts. From outside the door, in came the one and only Steve Rogers. He’s breathing heavy and looks like he ran a marathon getting here but he’s smiling. Large and shining. “You’re awake.”

“Hi, Steve,” Tony says. It’s all he can think of saying. He honestly didn’t expect Steve to be here. They’re not exactly close from what he remembers.

Steve’s about to say more but Rhodey quickly stops him, dragging him back out the room and the two proceed to have a very hushed conversation. So hushed that Tony can’t guess what they’re talking about, but he does hear a very clear but very hurt, “oh” at the end. Then the two don’t realize their voices have gotten louder.

“Yeah.”

“So he doesn’t remember.”

“No. Sorry, Steve.”

“Now what?”

“We help him. Any way we can.”

“Would I be of any help, though? I’ll just cause problems.”

“Will you be able to keep away?”

“...no, I won’t.”

“He may not remember, but he still cares for you. Always has. Just gotta help him fall in love with you all over again.”

Hold on. One. Second.

Fall in love?

All over again?

Him?

With Steve??

When?

How?

Tony stops breathing.

The two return. Their hushed conversation over. Tony must be bug-eyed as he stares at them.

Steve stops in front of his bed. “Hey, Tony. I -”

“I mated you?!”

His shouting surprises the two. “Oh, you heard that?” Steve says.

Tony is speechless. It’s not a denial. Meaning, it could be very much true. He’s mated to Steve?

“Yeah, I’m you’re mate. Two years now. Could’ve been near three but you’re very stubborn,” the famous omega says so freely. As if being mated to Tony isn’t the worst thing in the world for him. “Rhodey told me you don’t remember anything in the last three years. So you don’t remember our time together?”

No, I - no.”

“Okay,” Steve looks down. Hurt. “I understand if you want me away while you heal -”

“No,” Tony says rather quickly. “I mean - help me understand. How did we end up together? How did I win you? No - shit, that came out wrong. You’re not a prize. You’re a hero and an icon. I just don’t get how I got this lucky.”

Steve has a smile. It’s small, but it’s there. “I don’t know about you being lucky. I think I’m the luckier one here. If you have to know, it took a lot of work on my part. It also took a lot of help from your friends. You’re really determined to ignore the signs right in front of you, Love.”

Tony makes a choking noise. Steve just called him Love. Steve Rogers just called him love! He couldn’t believe it. This is all a dream. It has to be. He’s never this lucky.

“Tony?” Steve frowns and moves around the table. Closer to him. He reaches a hand out. Rubs a thumb under his eye. “Honey, you’re crying.”

Is he? Steve pulls his thumb away. Glistening from a tear. Oh, looks like he is.

“I’m just overwhelmed,” he inhales, “and in pain.”

“Your leg?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll go get the nurse.” Steve turns to do just that but Tony grabs his arm before he can take the first step.

“Wait. Stay. Please?”

“I’ll get her,” Rhodey offers and walks out the room, leaving them alone.

Steve sits on the bed. He grabs hold of his hand. “Okay, I’ll stay. I won’t go anywhere.”

“Thank you.” With his shirt, Tony wipes away the tears. “Could you - could you tell me how it happened? How did we -?”

“Get together?” The omega pipes in.

“Yeah. I just don’t believe it. Feels like a dream.”

“You better believe it, Mister. This is no dream and I worked really hard to get you. I’m not letting go.”

Tony laughs. It’s so surreal to hear Steve say that. For him of all people!

“Okay, while we wait for Jim let me tell you about the first time I tried asking you out. A lot of people got upset about it and trust me, it wasn’t because I was trying to get off the market.”

#text post #long text post #naferty writes #stony #stevetony #tony & rhodey #he's my alpha au #a/b/o dynamics #alpha tony stark #omega steve rogers #another attempt at waking up and forgetting who your mate is #but a happier outcome!#avac #avac stony

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andyet-here-we-are · 4 years

Text

I Would Get Into Millions of Accidents Just to See You, Chapter 1

For @wolfgeralt as a little ‘thank you’ for his stunning art -which I really adore, you can see it here: (x)

and for @hecky-heckicravedeath (x) who gave me inspiration for this fanfiction. Also Thanks @3tothe1 for being my beta. (You’re such a sweetheart, and I love you so much)

Anyway, I hope you like it, my dear Witchlings! 💛

I present you: NURSE GERALT!

Chapter 1 Word Count: 2461

ao3: (x)

Chapter 2 Tumblr link: (x) Chapter 3 Tumblr link: (x) Chapter 4 Tumblr Link: (x)

When Geralt arrives for his shift, still feeling exhausted from yesterday, he has no idea what’s waiting for him at the hospital. His days are never too ordinary because you never know what you’ll come across.

That’s a part of being a nurse.

But he could never think that one of the not-so-famous musicians, his daughter, Ciri adores, was going to have a terrible traffic accident—which somehow isn’t on the news—and end up in the hospital he works at.

He already knows his name since Ciri just can’t stop talking about how nice he is and how he sounds like an angel. To the point where sometimes Geralt wants to say “Okay he is wonderful, so kind and lovely and you really love him, I get it. Can you please just keep eating your pasta? Yes Ciri, yes, I know that pasta is his favorite food, you say that every time we’re having pasta. ”

Geralt isn’t there for his intake, apparently, the accident happened last night, and the musician was badly injured.

Jaskier has a ruptured spleen that caused internal hemorrhaging, which the doctors were able to repair. He also has a mild concussion, a couple of broken ribs, along with some cuts and a broken leg which he is probably going to need another surgery for.

Since the other nurse who was responsible for Jaskier last night, is having some family issues and has to take his annual leave, Jaskier is in Geralt’s care now, they let Geralt know.

When Geralt is home, Ciri starts talking about how Jaskier hadn’t posted anything in two days, and how worried she is since Jaskier had promised them a new song, “He never breaks his promises,” she says.

Geralt thinks that keeping the fact that the young man was in a traffic accident to himself is a better idea.

***

Three days later, when Geralt cracks open the door to Jaskier’s room, the man still sounds asleep, his chest rising and falling with every slow breath he takes as the morphine keeps dripping into his system. It’s enough to keep him subdued, if not completely pain-free.

He checks his IV, and takes a few notes onto his clipboard, right before the musician comes to, his eyelids fluttering.

And damn if he hasn’t got the most breathtaking eyes he has ever seen in his whole life. Even when they lack the spark Geralt is sure they normally hold in them.

Jaskier is confused, of course. So he tells him about what has happened and clears his throat before speaking.

“Mr. Pankratz, I need to take your vitals and then give you some medicines for the pain, may I have your arm?”

“Hell you can, might as well take my poor heart that seems to be beating for—” Jaskier flirts and coughs before he has the chance to finish, his voice is low and hoarse from lack of use.

Geralt makes no comments, and fills a cup of water for him instead, helping him to drink it. He is surprised by the musician’s flattering words, and he is also glad that he is good at keeping a neutral expression on his face.

“…you.” He finishes. “Well, I would normally use the ‘am I dead and in Heaven?’ cliché, but, see,” Jaskier keeps talking after sipping some water “I’m in too much pain to think that I’m in heaven. You sure look like a sexy angel or something though. Ohoho, are you gonna give me a sponge bath, too? Just wondering. If so, I’m totally down for it. Just so you know.”

Geralt can’t help but snort at that a bit, “Do you always talk that much?”

“Maybe it’s you who doesn’t talk enough, you ever considered that?” Jaskier teases, and then suddenly his whole playful expression changes like he remembered that he had left his cat on the stone, and he frowns to himself, “Oh God, three days you said? Shitshitshit,” he drops his head back onto his pillows in a way too dramatic manner, covering his eyes with one hand “I had promised them a new song,” the nurse hears him mumbling “I am such an idiot.”

Jaskier truly seems so disappointed in himself that Geralt feels the need of comforting him. The man had a traffic accident, for crying out loud!

And yet, he is concerned for his fans because he couldn’t keep his promise, rather than being worried for himself.

Not even an hour has passed since he had the chance to talk to the man, but he already can see why Ciri likes this guy that much.

“It’s not your fault that some idiot decided that running a red light and colliding with your car was a good idea,” Geralt says “don’t beat yourself up over it.”

Jaskier still seems disappointed, but he mumbles a silent 'thank you’ before he says “ you may be right, but I promised them.”

***

Days go like this: Jaskier keeps flirting with him every time Geralt steps into his room to check on him and give him his medicines. Geralt never flirts back because of obvious reasons, but he never tells him to stop either, even though he does judge him with his eyes now and then.

The moments Geralt can spend with the man is the most he feels happy at work.

He can’t even deny that at this point.

Ciri keeps asking him why he looks happier nowadays, and why he suddenly became clumsy all of a sudden because he loses his focus easily.

“Who is the reason behind your smile? I gotta know! C’mon, it’s not fair! Don’t leave me hanging like this!” She insists, being the stubborn girl she is, and after a second she grins like cheshire cat “You’ve finally met someone special?”

“…I might have, pumpkin” is his answer. “I might have.”

***

He doesn’t know why, but Geralt doesn’t like Thursdays. Well, it’s probably because everything bad has ever happened to him seemed to happen on Thursdays, usually.

And sadly, this Thursday is no exception.

Hank, a seventy years old man who has been here for more than a month, and who has been very ill passes away. Who he had become really close with and really cared about.

Jaskier catches his change of mood when he goes to check on him and simply says, “Talk to me. I mean, you don’t have to. But you look like you could use a friend. And I’m so bored of watching television anyway.”

So Geralt talks to him.

He talks about Hank, about how wise he was. He talks about how he has been working here for years but how it still affects him so much when someone passes away. How he doesn’t suppose to feel a connection with his patients, how terrible of a nurse that makes him.

“That makes you human, not a terrible nurse.” Jaskier assures him, his voice as gentle as always. “Believe me. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

Geralt isn’t sure when Jaskier’s hand finds his hand as they talk, and when his dainty looking, long fingers link with his; but the intimate gesture feels so natural, so right that he just lets him.

***

Jaskier has surgery for his right leg the next day, and it’s not the first time that Geralt hears his patients saying the most ridiculous things after their surgery, thanks to the sedation.

But oh boy, if Jaskier doesn’t take it to a whole new level.

“Maaarry meee, my dear nurse!” the musician yells, “we could make the most adorable babies together! One of them would have my voice, one of them would have your weirdly sexy brooding or something. One of them would have my…. my tongue? Or eyes? Cheeks! Yes, cheeks. And the other would have your lips while the other would have your… DIMPLE! I love that cute dimple you have on your jaw! ”

Geralt laughs, because how can he not?

“That’s biologically impossible.” the nurse says. “Also how many kids you have in mind? That was awfully a lot.”

“Hmm, let’s see. Marie, Duchess,” Jaskier starts to count with his fingers, and he looks so damn adorable that Geralt finds it extremely hard to not just reach out and ruffle his hair. “Thomas O'Malley, Toulouse, and Berlioz. So, six!”

“It’s five, actually,” Geralt tilts his head to the side slightly and corrects him with a fond, little smile. “So… you’re planning to name your kids after The Aristocats?”

“Our kids, mind you. And I’m not straight, love. You can’t expect me to do the math, I don’t make the rules.”

Love.

He just called Geralt ‘love’

“He probably calls ‘love’ everyone,” the nurse reminds himself and swallows, not being able to focus on what Jaskier says for a minute or so. “You’re no special.”

But the way Jaskier utters that one word, makes him feel like he is lying to himself.

When he can finally focus on what he is saying, Jaskier is still talking about the same topic.

“…and you should be grateful that I’m not planning to name them after Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles! If we’re gonna have more than six, I’m totally doing that though.”

“Why Mr. Pankratz, we’re not even married yet. But I already don’t have a say in anything, it seems.” Geralt can’t help but tease with the young man in return.

Jaskier waves one hand weakly: “Don’t take this as my marriage proposal though, I’m better than that. If I were to propose to you I would do that in the most wonderful way. Roses, candles, and everything. Even fireworks.”

Geralt remains silent, so Jaskier talks again: “And ya know, joking aside, actually we couldn’t name them unless we adopted them when they were babies.”

“Why do you want so many kids?” the nurse wonders, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, growing up in a foster care system will do that to you,” Jaskier lets out a loud and somehow cute yawn.

Geralt knows that he wasn’t even supposed to ask that, and he shouldn’t even listen to Jaskier rambling about his life, which he won’t even remember after the sedative effect wears off.

But he can’t suppress his need of knowing more about him.

He just can’t.

“Wanna adopt as many kids as I can, so I can provide ’em a life filled full of love and everything they deserve. All the beautiful things in the universe. All the things I couldn’t have when I was a kid.” Jaskier admits, and his words make Geralt’s heart clench in his chest.

At that moment, Geralt is sure that he is falling so hard for the musician.

Maybe he already did.

“Don’t think that I’m not gonna name our dogs after them though. Or cats.” Jaskier mumbles. He looks like he is just two seconds away from falling into a deep sleep.

Right when he moves to leave, Jaskier grabs his hand as he softly, sweetly whispers, “Geralt, don’t leave me.” And he sounds so vulnerable, so weak that the nurse’s heart skips a beat in his chest.

Geralt would love to say that he doesn’t leave all night, but he has other patients he needs to check on, so he leaves.

But not before staying for five minutes as he holds the musician’s hand, and watches him fall asleep. Nobody needs to know, right?

***

The next day, Jaskier doesn’t remember most of the things he had said last night, but somehow he remembers that Geralt had stayed for a while.

That day, feeling guilty about yesterday, Geralt talks about his life.

“It’s only fair,” he thinks.

He talks about Ciri, and he lets the musician know how crazy his daughter is about him. That makes Jaskier smile at him warmly, but then again, his smile is always like this.

Warmer than the sun on a hot summer day.

Blushing, Jaskier hesitantly says that he would love to meet her. His big, baby blue eyes seem to be searching for something in Geralt’s eyes.

And Geralt understands that he finds whatever he was searching for when Geralt nods and says: “We would love that, too.”

***

“Look! Jaskier finally posted something!” Ciri says one morning while they are having breakfast, well, more like Ciri is having breakfast, and Geralt is just busy with his coffee since he is in a hurry.

“Hmm?”

“Wait, was this an ‘I’m Actually Curious About What You Have To Say’ type of ‘hmm’? Because it definitely didn’t sound like your usual ‘I Don’t Care’ type of ‘hmm’. Nice! That might be the first time you actually seem curious about what I have to say about him.” Ciri smiles, and lets out a sad, little “Oh.” After reading whatever Jaskier had posted.

“He says that he is having some minor health issues…”

Geralt huffs at that.

‘Minor health issues’

If what he had gone through is “minor” to Jaskier, Geralt doesn’t even want to imagine what “major health issues” mean in his dictionary.

But he is sure that the only reason why the musician says “minor” is because he doesn’t want to worry his fans.

“‘I am in good hands though—I mean it, really really good hands—so no need to worry. Love you all, xoxo’ Hmm… I hope it’s nothing serious.”

The nurse looks at his daughter’s phone screen and the excessive amount of winking face emojis after ‘really really good hands’ part catches his attention.

He tries to hide his smile behind his black coffee mug.

And luckily, he succeeds.

***

A few days later, it’s time for Jaskier to be discharged from the hospital. And Geralt feels a bit sad about it, to be honest. Because he is already used to having the young man around.

To his never-ending flirting and jokes, to his smile, to his everything.

But the good thing is, that means that he will be no longer his patient.

Jaskier gives him his number before he leaves, and tells Geralt to call him whenever he is free.

“I’m totally getting into another accident and make sure they bring me here if you don’t call, Mr. Handsome Nurse,” the musician jokes in a low voice.

“We wouldn’t want that now, would we?” Geralt smiles. “You can be sure that I’ll call, Jaskier. And we can even have some pasta maybe.”

It’s the first time that Geralt calls him by his first name, and the nurse can see how the other man’s smile widens when he does that, eyes sparkling.

“Wow. Now I have no doubt about how much Ciri talks about me,“ scratching the back of his head, Jaskier chuckles shyly, and it’s music to his ears. Ciri is right. He does sound like an angel.

"Till we meet again, Geralt. Till we meet again.”

#the witcher #jaskier #geraskier #jaskier x geralt #dandelion #geralt #geralt of rivia #geralt z rivii #the witcher fanfiction #nurse geralt au #I Would Get Into Millions Of Accidents Just To See You #my writing

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nearlymanaged · 4 years

Text

5. Dreaming of Hogsmeade

During the couple of days leading up to Hogsmeade Saturday, James, Remus, and Peter had been talking about Sirius’ birthday whenever he wasn’t around to overhear them. They had decided to throw him a huge surprise party in the Gryffindor common room since he was turning seventeen and they knew that there was no better gift that they could give him than a whole bunch of people celebrating his existence.

They had put up a charmed poster on the notice board, letting other Gryffindors know about it (if Sirius ever looked at it, it appeared to be a Wizard Card Collectors' Club poster; Remus had also added ‘anyone who tries to talk to Sirius about this SURPRISE party will instantly break out in most painful boils’, which was completely untrue, only because he couldn’t find a jinx like that).

The three boys had been planning on smuggling in some Fire Whiskey and butterbeer, which they were going to pick up in Hogsmeade. So far, it was looking like Peter would be in charge of that, since he was going to spend the day apart from the rest of them anyway, so James had given him his invisibility cloak to hide the contraband from Filch.

James and Peter, who had just climbed in through the portrait hole after their last lesson that Friday, joined Remus and Sirius in front of the fire. “Nice weather, eh?” James nodded his head towards the tall, narrow windows being mercilessly lashed by the rainstorm.

“Better put an Impervius charm on that impeccable mess of a hairdo tomorrow,” Remus quipped lazily.

“So about that,” James started loudly and nonchalantly. “I can’t go, I have detention.”

“What? Since when?” Remus gaped at him while Sirius murmured ‘nice’ with an approving bob of his head.

“Prongs here tried to jinx Snivellus in the middle of Potions today,” Peter answered and Sirius gave him another ‘niceee’.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Remus rolled his eyes.

“It’s not my fault Snape always has to poke his annoying nose into other people’s business!”

“What, did he overhear one of your ludicrous attempts at asking Lily out?” Remus drawled, straight-faced, and Sirius barked out a laugh before catching James’ eye and pretending to cough immediately. “Why did you even keep Potions this year? Not like you really need it?”

“But Evans, obviously,” Sirius explained cheerfully. “The rather more mind boggling question here is why Wormtail still has Potions?”

“Better than history of magic,” the boy shrugged.

“Fair enough.”

“Speaking of Potions, you mind picking up some newt spleens for me? I used all of the ones I had to mess up Snape’s potion last week.”

“Sure. Well I guess it’s just the three of us then,” Sirius looked at Peter and Remus.

“No! I’m meeting Lydia Rooks at Three Broomsticks, remember?”

“Oh that��s right, how very sweet. We can go chaperone them, Remus.”

“I’d really rather you didn’t,” Peter whined with a definite note of panic rising in his voice. “For once, just let me live.”

“And go get a drink at Hog’s Head instead? Fat chance,” snarled Sirius. “I don’t much fancy running into half of my extended family.”

“How am I supposed to have more confidence with you two sniggering behind my back!?”

“We don’t snigger!” Sirius exclaimed, apparently shocked by this accusation.

“You can go to Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop!”

“Madam Puddifoot's? That place is always packed to the brim with lovey dovey couples. Matter of fact, why aren’t you and Lydia going there?” Remus raised his eyebrows at his friend.

“We’re not a lovey dovey couple...yet...”

“Nor Sirius and I,” Remus laughed out.

James could have sworn he heard Sirius mumble something that sounded a lot like ‘yet’, ever so quietly.

“Please don’t ruin this for me,” Peter looked from one of the boys to the other.

“Fine,” Remus sighed. “Maybe it will stop raining and we won’t have to be cooped up in there, listening to the smacking and slurping of people sucking each other’s faces.”

“You’re acting like it’s the end of the world,” Sirius momentarily scrunched his eyebrows with an ever present smile playing on his lips. “Cheer up, Moony! We’re going to have a splendid time!” He grabbed Remus’ hand with both of his and clumsily interlaced their fingers, now grinning at him.

Neither him, nor Remus noticed their two friends exchange looks.

* * *

“Look, that’s new!” Sirius pointed at the front of a pub a little ways down the road; he knew every square inch of Hogsmeade like the back of his hand, but he’d never seen this place. “Let’s check it out, shall we?”

“I’ve heard about this place. That’s where all the couples go,” Moony said vaguely and led the way.

It was indeed a pub but the inside of it looked eerily a lot like Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop. They found themselves a booth with a little table by the window, where they had a surprisingly good view of the main street of the village bathed in sunlight.

Sirius didn’t even notice a waiter approach them but within moments, there were two bottles of butterbeer on their table. “Sirius…” Moony’s breath caught.

“Yes?”

“I…” Remus paused again and rested both of his forearms on the table, almost as if reaching for him. “I wanted to tell you something…”

“Do I have food in my teeth?”

“What? No… I’m glad that James and Peter couldn’t come with us.”

“Oh?” Sirius felt his heart speed up. “How come?”

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” Moony smiled at him, jumping up, and switched seats so that now, instead of sitting across the table from Sirius, they were side by side.

“I’m afraid I’ll need you to elaborate a bit more on this,” Sirius smirked.

“I like you, Sirius. Do I really have to spell it out?” Moony rolled his eyes in feigned annoyance, all while inching closer and closer.

“Fuck, Moony, I thought you’d never say it…” Sirius’ hand found Remus’ waist and pulled him even closer. He could smell him, sweet like chocolate; feel his breath on his own lips. There was just another inch left between them and Sirius pulled Moony into a kiss, unable to resist anymore. Just then, some loud, nondescript noise made him pull away and blink...into his pillow?

Sirius was in his four-poster bed, hugging his pillow. Someone had drawn his curtains open, which was probably the source of that loud noise. He blinked a few times until the two shapes moving in front of him came into focus - it was James and Peter.

“Why’d’you have to wake me?” Sirius grumbled groggily. “It was almost the best part of the dream…”

“What did you dream about?” Asked the subject of the dream himself, walking out of the bathroom, brushing his teeth.

For the briefest of moments, sleep still clinging to Sirius’ brain, he wanted to just come out and say it. “I was at a Queen concert…” He said instead, gazing at Remus with a giddy smile.

“Ugh, why did you wake him, Prongs?” Moony glared at James.

“Because I can’t find any fake blood capsules and I have detention in ten minutes!”

“I like your jumper,” Sirius tugged on Remus’ green sleeve on his way to the bathroom. “Is it new?”

“Is anything I own, really?” Moony asked with a resigned smirk. “I bought it at a charity shop this summer.”

“Well, regardless, I like it.”

“I’ll know where it went when it goes missing from my trunk,” Remus said, referring to Sirius’ tendency to borrow his friends’ clothes without asking.

“Nah, I like it on you,” Black cast a hungry look at Remus through the open door.

Still relishing the memory of his dream, Sirius was in no need for improving his mood. But he grinned to himself even wider, remembering that it was going to be just him and Moony going to Hogsmeade together in a little bit. Not that he expected the dream to come true, but...what better way to spend a whole day? In fact, he had to admit, he was enjoying all this pining in a weird way. He didn’t even care that the weather was absolutely dreadful.

* * *

It was raining cats and dogs the whole way to the village, and by the time Remus and Sirius reached Honeydukes, they were completely drenched. Somehow, the charm they’d put on themselves, that was supposed to protect them against the pelt of icy drops, wore off halfway there. Remus took his time examining all the different flavoured and shaped chocolates, carefully weighing his options between tried and tested, and brand new ones. As usual, the shop was filled with Hogwarts students, some of whom were girls that, despite all the magical sweets surrounding them, only had eyes for Sirius (and now a couple of boys too, since the news of Sirius sexuality had spread throughout the school within hours).

Remus was trying to not pay too much attention to it; he had been doing that for over a year and there was no reason to change his tactics now. But, he noticed pretty soon, Sirius kept telling his flirty admirers that he needed to go help his friend, only to silently follow Lupin around as he worked his way through shelves and stacks of chocolate. Very dog-like, Remus thought to himself with a small smile. But then he wondered if Sirius’ behaviour was linked to him running away from home. It seemed like that made sense - he had a lot going on in his life, maybe that’s why he’d slowed down with the flirting and the snogging since they’ve been back at Hogwarts. Sirius didn’t talk much about it at all, acting as though everything was fine, but Remus wondered if his friend was okay every now and then.

After Honeydukes, they went to Zonko’s, where they spent another half hour, again surrounded by Hogwarts students. The last stop before they could hide out of the damp cold somewhere and hopefully wait for the rain to stop was J. Pippin’s Potions.

A little bell rang above the door as they walked in, causing the only customer in the shop to turn around.

“Snivellus,” Sirius nodded his head and Snape mumbled something in return that most definitely wasn’t a compliment. “What was that?” Sirius’ body leaned forward, either about to walk over to Snape or hex him, but Remus grabbed his forearm warningly. He was the first one to admit that he did a terrible job at stepping in and putting a stop to things like that, like any other prefects would have done. But it wasn’t for lack of understanding that he should have. And it was certainly easier to practice when it was just one of his troublemaker friends.

“Come on, we’re not on school grounds,” Sirius whined like a child asking for another scoop of ice cream.

“All the same, this git is not worth our time or energy.”

“Better listen to your boyfriend, Black.” Snape sneered, noticing Remus’ movement. “Nasty-tempered monsters, these werewolves.”

This time, Remus distinctly felt Sirius plunge his hand into his wand pocket and squeezed his arm again, a little rougher this time. “Bog off, Snape,” Lupin scoffed at him, but all he could think about is that he had just referred to him as Sirius’ boyfriend. He felt embarrassed for thinking about it, what with the given context, and yet, he couldn’t help it.

“Is that what your parents said to you?” Snape was looking at Sirius again, evidently overcome by some sort of feelings of unfounded courage.

“Didn’t you hear what my werewolf boyfriend said? Bog off, Snivellus.”

“I’m just curious. I mean, that has to sting. When your own family can’t stand your ugly face so much, they kick you out before you’re even of age.”

“Shut the fuck up, Snivellus.” Remus enunciated calmly; before he knew it, he was standing right in front of Snape, the tip of his wand no more than an inch away from his greasy nose. And yet, his mind was dragging behind, stuck in the moment when Sirius referred to him as his boyfriend. Of course, contextually, it did not mean anything, but just hearing him say it made Moony giddy.

Before Snape could make up his mind about whether he really was willing to test his luck, the shopkeeper reappeared from the back room. “Oi! What in the name of Merlin is going on here?!”

“Just friendly banter,” Remus gave him a polite smile, putting his wand away.

Snape paid for his stuff and scrambled out of the shop faster than you could say Quidditch. Sirius and Remus got James’ supplies and, as soon as they stepped out into the pouring rain, decided it was time for Madam Puddifoot’s. All the while, once the ‘boyfriend’ induced daze wore off, Remus was thinking about Sirius’ predicament with his family. He knew that Sirius’ parents were rotten people, and Sirius had openly rejoiced about never having to go back to their home ever again at least ten times in the few letters they had exchanged over the summer. But Remus knew better than to assume that it was as simple as that.

Once they were out of the rain, sitting at a table, hot drinks in hand (black coffee in Sirius’ and green tea in Remus’), Moony decided that this was as good a time as any to check in on his friend. “Padfoot, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”

At these words, Sirius perked up with an alarmed look rearranging his face. “You have? About what?”

“Well, I know that you say you’re fine - and I am happy for you, I am - but I also know that given the choice, you’d rather be on speaking terms with your brother…” Remus trailed off, allowing Sirius to pick up where he left off.

“Oh. That. Yeah…”

“We haven’t really talked about it, and I guess I just want to make sure that you know that I’m here for you.”

“I know, Moony. You’re not wrong, I would choose to not have Regulus change direction whenever he sees me in the hallways. But it’s always been an uphill battle. He takes pride in being his parents' son and getting tangled in all that Dark shit,” Sirius scrunched his nose, as if smelling something foul right under it. “They’re all like bowtruckles on doxy eggs, they’re a family. And, to be honest, Mr. and Mrs. Potters’ house feels a hundred times more like a home to me than that dreadful place ever did. I’m not just saying it, I am happy...er. Happier.” Sirius flashed him an eerily dog-like grin and Remus nodded.

“Good.”

“Have you got any other inquiries or is this the end of the interview?”

“Just one: why are you such an obnoxious prick?” Remus rolled his eyes with an involuntary smile.

“Don’t act like you don’t love my obnoxious prickness.”

“That wasn’t the question. Regardless, whenever you’re feeling less happy...er, you don’t have to sulk by yourself. It’s very unbecoming.”

“Thanks, Moony.” Sirius grinned, an unbridled smile on his face. “So do they have any food here? I could eat a hippogriff!”

It never did stop raining and eventually, the two Marauders decided to head back to the castle. Given the weather, it was no surprise that more and more people were filing into the shop, so before Remus could lead the way out, he stopped by the door to let a little old lady walk inside first. A dirty white poodle, just as old as its owner, by the looks of it, was trailing behind her very slowly, swaying slightly. Unable to resist a mixture between pity and kinship, Remus bent down to give the dog a scratch behind its ear, and then finally dove out into the rain.

“You never pet me when I’m a dog.”

Remus raised an eyebrow at Sirius’ odd statement. “You never pet me when I’m a werewolf.”

“Kinky.”

#wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #marauders #hogwarts #fanfic #peter pettigrew

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horseyfuture · 3 years

Text

Lockdown 2021

Welcome, you sickening metallic pervert. I don’t know why I even tolerate you, my dues to the club have long since been settled and yet still you show up with your corrugated spleen and your laminated nipples. What? Oh, it’s you. With your simple fleshy appendages and some kind of yellow blancmange for a CPU. I suppose you will suffice. Bend yourself over the table there and we’ll get on with the show. Liquid soap’s on the side, next to the antique bum-hammer.

---

Aries: You find yourself repeatedly followed by crows. This is in no way related to the quite normal phenomenon in which a murder of crows will adopt a human who feeds them, bringing them trinkets and even offering them protection from aggressors. No, these crows find you sexy. Leaping about in your lounge, wearing your goth tops and flapping your arms to the rhythms of online parties, the crows all agree that you are “SKRARK!” or, in Crow, “one fine piece of floppy human tail”. Well done! Crows have good taste and make excellent lovers.

Taurus: Every time you open that damn Taurus mouth of yours, you sound like a broken record. I mean, literally, you sound like a piece of badly scratched vinyl. That’s been up the wrong bit of a rhino. And is being played using a bent nail. Through the speakers of a brown ‘65 Ford Allegro. In Ipswitch. In the rain. On a Wednesday. In November. That’s a lot of detail to pack into an accent every time you decide to prattle on about crisps. People find it offputting.

Gemini: On a whim, you buy yourself a File-o-fax, you know, from the 80s. You must have seen one in a kitschy American TV show or something. While excessively bored on a Sunday afternoon, you begin to fill in some of the entries from your mobile phone. As soon as you finish writing the first one, Adam, he calls! What a crazy coincidence! You move onto the next, Beth - then SHE calls! That’s just insane! As you move onto the next name, you think “My god, what if I bought a MAGICAL File-o-fax? What adventures could I HAVE?” - You look down at the table in awe, when suddenly it all becomes clear: next to the Magic File-o-fax is the Magic Empty Bottle of Gin. Ah.

Cancer: Singing a song about beans, YEAH! Singing a song about toast! Singing a song about beans on toast, ‘cos that food you like the most, WOO! Singing a song about waffles? NO! Can’t be arsed making them! Beans on toast takes like two tiny minutes and waffles take about fucking ten! (FUCK THAT!) Singing a song into the beans can! While the beans turn in the microwave, ALRIGHT! Naming individual beans (YEAH!) pretend they’re all going to a beans rave! (WHISTLE POSSE!) Shovelling the beans into your mouth WOO! Toasting bread is for twats! (LO-SERS!) Pouring cold beans onto your face and half of them fall onto the cat! (SEND HELP!)

Leo: After a successful hour’s staring at the stippled ceiling, you reward yourself with a brisk walk to the door. After three proud steps, diligently recorded by your fitness band (which you’re fairly certain is now emitting a dull weeping sound), you jubilantly punch the air and have a nice relaxing pass out on the floor. After another few hours, you surf another boost of energy and nearly make it to the fridge. Sadly, though this goal is destined to elude you as you trip over a recently-delivered Amazon envelope. A handful of attempts in, you succeed at opening the envelope (only stopping twice to catch breath) and discover it to contain one flimsy plastic finger measurer and a £60 voucher for a wine subscription. You remember the partner you once had, in the distant before times, so vibrant and loud. In recognition of having had what you’re certain is “a feeling”, you fling the ring-measurer away, order the wine and settle into a nice, relaxing cry.

Virgo: There are a number of St Bernards around your neighbourhood and you’ve started to find them more than a little intimidating. What began as friendly barks as you passed in the street has developed into the odd growl and now barking as the owners pull their wretched beasts back from you, swearing in anguish as their hounds’ slavering jaws snap at your heels. After a few weeks of this, Monthly Bath Weekend inevitably comes round and the problem seems to just go away.

Libra: Some people have been baking recently. They - of course - are twats. Others have chosen to use this time to improve existing music skills, or even pick up a new instrument in their abundance of free time. Shit-eating scum, each and every one of them. You are not going to be affected by this self-improvement bullshit and have decided to strike out on your own, tangibly making yourself less pleasant, skilled and attractive with each passing day. Monday is fudge-eating class. Tuesday, “how long can I sit on the loo?” marathons (5 hours PB). Wednesday is Yelling ‘BASTARDS’ at the Sky Day, while Thursday (being the new Friday) you party on down with a life-size model of Prince made from your own toenails. Friday you slam your face into cupboards, repeating the word “APES” in a dull monotone. At the weekend, it’s time to rest! Phew! Just a few hours drilling holes in the ceiling, a slip, a tumble, a fall, a crunching sound and a view from the underside of a very poorly constructed step-ladder until it all goes beautifully dark.

Scorpio: Fuck this, you’re buying beach balls. Yep. Why not? You do, in fact, buy beach balls. Why didn’t you think of this before? They’re bright. They’re entertaining. They’re CHEAP. You can order them in large quantities, it turns out. “Ooh, I hope you’re not having a party!” says the delivery man, with a wink “HAHAHAH, NO. Actually I’m just INFLATING THEM AND POPPING THEM” you cackle toward his suddenly retreating face. It takes a while to inflate all 400, but the high you get from blowing them up is quite intense! Now you have a house full of beach balls! Haha! You can’t bring yourself to pop them in the end. Some of them are lost to accidents (fried beach ball, anyone?) and others you draw on with crude faces of past enemies, then open the door and punt them down the street with a hearty “FUCK YOU, BEATRICE!” (or Ken, as appropriate. You had few enemies. It’s cheap therapy). The last few hundred last you happily into the next month, though the doctor is mildly unimpressed when you attempt to get them vaccinated.

Sagittarius: Your attempts at making LEGO sex toys go badly to begin with. But, weirdly, you do eventually get better at it. You’re particularly proud of the one where you use the gearbox from the racing car for, well, you know. The winking pneumatic sex-donkey (8,014 bricks) is, in most people’s opinion, your pièce de résistance. You can’t wait for the highstreet to open up again, so you can go and show off your repertoire down the local toyshop.

Capricorn: It’s tough getting through lockdown without the internet. In your case, though, it is entirely self-inflicted. You made a promise to yourself to cut down on the doomscrolling and it was successful! Prodigiously so! You end up cutting out the news sites - who needs them? - then the social sites - nothing but trash! - then eventually you just pull the wires out of your router and fling it in the bin with some bits of leftover chicken. Time passes, politicians come and go, vaccines are invented, distributed, mostly successful (with only a small amount of people instantly turning into tiny, angry lizards) and eventually the world passes through the danger period and back into something like normality! You, of course, miss this entirely and get on with your new hobby of writing subversive poetry on the walls in dollops of mouldy Marmite. Weirdly, you ARE happier.

Aquarius: Lockdown doesn’t seem to be getting to you too badly this month (whichever month it turns out to be). You did get to a bit of a peak when you were popping a Toblerone up your bum while playing kazoos just to get yourself ready for the next bloody Zoom meeting of the day, you now you’re limiting it to one bar per day and only using the two kazoos, you feel like you’ve hit your stride, found your flow, really made the most of every work-from-home hour the Lord sends. Ah, yes, the Lord truly has kept you to the virtuous path. Without your faith, you would never have got through the dark days. Sat there on his throne of Bourbons, wearing his Chocolate Finger crown. Slowly rotating on the lazy Susan you bought so you could efficiently respect His Majesty from any angle with a deft flick of the wrist (and a few Bourbons in the eyes if you get too excited). The mighty Lord. You assume his name was Lord. There were only a few letters you could read on the collar when you found him by the bins. Ah, yes. The bins. The biscuits. The Lord. The rapture. Amen.

Pisces: After popping to the door to bring in a food delivery, you notice the day looks quite pleasant for a change, pop a mask on and go for a nice walk. On the way back, you notice a ladder leant up against a tree, with a strange golden light shimmering from high in the branches. Climbing the ladder, you hear the sound of a party, people calling your name in joy, whistles and whoops, clapping and laughter. You tumble into the golden light and down a kind of shoot as a fanfare plays. The dazzling light fades, the noise abates gently and you are sat on your sofa. On the TV are the words “LEVEL 4: YODELLING GEESE”. The geese filling your living room immediately begin to yodel with anger.

---

By the sainted elbows of Bobby Tavistocke, we got there in the end. I may have been a little over-brutal with my use of the bum-hammer there, for which I apologise. Anyway, you have extracted your price once more and I have little left to give. Pick up your clothes and get out of my living room.

As usual, you may of course take a fairy cake. We’ve got the nice ones this week.

DEPART!

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therainroguefanfiction · 4 years

Text

⁂ In WAR✘ and LOVE ♥ (Kei Tsukishima) First Love

📑 Table of Contents

Genre: Friendship, Slice of Life, Comedy ☁

Word Count: 3,597 ☁

Pairing: Reader x Tsukishima ☁

World: Haikyuu!! ☁

Author’s Note: This is my very first Haikyuu fic. Am I nervous? Yup. Am I excited? You bet! If enough people like this one shot, I might make a part two with a better ending, I don’t know lol

WARNING: This fic features a reader that has just graduated high school and a first-year. If you have a problem with this or this makes you uncomfortable, please do not read.

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

You stepped up to the door of Karasuno’s gym, hearing the sound of squeaking shoes and hands slapping volleyballs. The sun was nearly set behind you, casting rays of orange and red across the earth. You were supposed to have arrived an hour earlier, but the train was delayed because a woman went into labor during the journey.

You slid the door open and stepped into the brightly lit gym where the volleyball team was practicing. ‘Hmm, looks like they just finished a three-on-three,’

Kiyoko, the team’s manager, was the first to notice you, tapping Daichi’s shoulder before pointing at you. He grinned when his brown eyes fell on you and he jogged over. “Y/N, you’re here! I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.”

“Sorry, Dai, there was an issue on the train and we got held up.”

He quirked a brow, resting his hand on his hip as he used his father tone. “Did you hurt someone again?”

You scoffed at the implication of his words. “That was one time, Dai, and the pervert deserved it for trying to feel up that middle school girl,”

“Yes, yes, a modern-day hero.” He teased. “And it happened at least three times that I’ve seen.”

Before you could respond to him, you suddenly saw a blur and felt a body slam into your own, arms wrapped around you and pinning your arms to your sides. “Y/N!!”

“Tanaka,” you grunted in annoyance. “Let me go before I punch you in the spleen.”

“Hah?!” His aura darkened and his arms tightened. “You think you can take me just ’cause you’re older? Let’s go! Here and now! I’ll bea -”

Daichi grabbed the back of the second-year’s shirt, yanking him off of you. “Knock it off!”

“Y/N started it!”

“Real mature,” you rolled your eyes, fixing the t-shirt you wore.

“What are you doing here, Y/N?” Suga questioned curiously, tilting his head to the side.

‘Ah, precious Suga. As adorable as ever,’ You offered him a shrug, nodding toward Daichi. “No idea. Ask your captain,”

By now, the rest of the team had gathered around, most of whom you recognized, but there were four faces you had never seen before and you assumed they were first-years. None of them really caught your attention as anything spectacular, but the tall blonde did stand out among them – he had to be six feet tall, easy.

“I was hoping you could lend the team a hand until we can find a coach,” Daichi confessed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“That seems pretty counter-productive considering I know nothing about volleyball,” you responded blankly.

“True,” he grinned. “But I could really use a hand keeping these guys in line.”

Now that had you intrigued. “With violence?” you grinned, a glint in your eyes.

Suga sweatdropped, patting your shoulder. “They can’t play in matches if you hurt them, Y/N…”

You clicked your tongue. “So I don’t break nothin’. Easy,”

“You missed the point…”

The orange-haired first year approached you like a curious animal, looking up at you with wide, brown eyes. His head tilted to the side like a cat. “Who are you?”

‘Damn, this guy is almost as short as Yuu,’ You hummed, leaning forward to flick his forehead. “Didn’t your mama ever teach you it’s rude to ask who someone is before introducing yourself first?”

He huffed, his cheeks expanding like a chipmunk. Was this kid the human embodiment of the animal kingdom? “Shouyou Hinata,”

“Good boy,” you ruffled his orange hair, chuckling when his cheeks darkened.

“I’m not a dog!”

“Meh. Humans, dogs. Same thing.”

“They’re not even close, Y/N…” Suga facepalmed.

Daichi ran his hand over his face, second-guessing his decision to ask you here. “You haven’t changed at all.” He shook his head, turning his attention to the four first-years. “Guys, this is Y/N. They graduated last year and they are a close family friend. I suggest not messing with them unless you have a death wish.”

As if to prove his point, you offered them a sadistic grin, your aura darkening. “If you’re a masochist, we’ll get along quite well!”

Three of the four stepped back with fearful expressions but the tall one kept his ground, golden eyes narrowed as he observed you. At first glance, he didn’t seem at all affected by your intimidating stance, but you didn’t miss the bead of sweat rolling down his cheek.

You hummed in amusement. ‘This guy has a pretty good poker face,’ “Well? Are the rest of you going to introduce yourselves? Or should I just call you thing 1, thing 2, and thing 3?”

The navy-haired boy stepped forward, a mixture of intimidation and annoyance swirling in his dark eyes. “Tobio Kageyama,”

You nodded your head in thanks, turning to the mousy brunette with freckles. His cheeks burned under your gaze and he quickly straightened his back, staring up at the ceiling. “Tadashi Yamaguchi, nice to meet you, senpai!”

“I’m not your senpai,” you stated blankly.

“Oh,” Tanaka suddenly started laughing, clutching his middle. “Right, you’re Y/N-san now, ain’t ya?!” He laughed harder as if he has just told the funniest joke in the history of mankind.

You rolled your eyes at the man-child before turning your attention to the blonde. “How ’bout you, beanpole?”

For a moment, he just stared at you with narrowed eyes. Whatever he was feeling, he was disciplined enough to keep the emotion from his face. And then he turned, walking away without a word.

Tanaka decided to feel offended for you and shot forward, only to be held back by Daichi. “You disrespectful lil shit, get back here!”

“Do you have to be so damn dramatic about everything?” you pinched the bridge of your nose. “If he wants to be an anti-social shit, let ’em. I don’t really care either way.”

His annoyed expression morphed into one of adoration as he clapped his hands together, nodding enthusiastically. “You’re so cool, Y/N-san!”

“Cut the -san, shit!” You snapped. ‘Christ, I forgot this guy changes emotions more than I change my damn underwear,’

“It’s time to clean up for the night, guys!” Takeda entered the gym with his typical goofy grin, which only widened when he saw you. “Y/N! It’s been so long, how are you doing?”

For the first time since you arrived on the school grounds, you offered the man a soft, genuine smile, something that surprised the first-years, one in particular. Since arriving, you had offered them only blank or aggressive expressions and, for some reason, seeing you make such a soft, kind expression took them all by surprise. Seeing your smile struck Tsukishima in a way he wasn’t used to and he paused to observe you, he felt his heart pick up speed.

A strange feeling was bubbling within his stomach and he couldn’t find a logical explanation for what it was. More than anything, he found himself feeling annoyed that you were being so kind and gentle with Takeda when he had gotten the opposite.

He did not like where this was going. Not one bit.

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

You glared at the arm wrapped around your own, dragging you down the street at an ungodly hour. Since you lived in Tokyo, Tanaka had been kind enough to volunteer his house for you to stay in while you were assisting the team. His family didn’t even question it, they just accepted you with open arms and far too much hugging. Living with him also meant that he was there to make sure you were awake by four-thirty so he could drag you with him to the school for morning practice.

“Will you stop dragging your feet? We’re gonna be late!”

“The fuck you mean late? It’s barely five in the morning, bro.”

“Exactly! Daichi should be unlocking the gym any minute now!”

You groaned, turning your gaze to the sky, which was still dark since the sun hadn’t yet risen. “This is going to be a long day…”

He laughed loudly, scaring away a pair of birds that had been resting on the power lines above. When the two of you arrived, the captain and Suga were already there and working on setting up the net and bringing out the balls. Hinata and Kageyama arrived soon after, followed by the rest of the team.

While they started on their warmups, you let yourself fall against the stage, sliding down to the wooden floor with a tired grunt. Kiyoko sent you a concerned look but knew better than to bother you. For the next hour, everyone left you alone and you were able to block out the loud noises they were making, your eyes sliding closed. Mornings had never been your strong suit, and you had gotten into trouble on more than one occasion for showing up late to school. You were just beginning to doze off when a loud, sharp yell disturbed you.

“Watch out!”

And then you felt a sharp pain in your face, almost as if someone had just spiked a volleyball into it. The gym went deadly silent as the ball fell to the ground, bouncing a couple times before rolling away. Your nose burned, a thick stripe of blood leaking from your left nostril.

Suga was the first to react, rushing toward you with a concerned look painted on his face. “Y/N! Are you okay? You’re bleeding, come on I’ll take you to the nurse.”

You didn’t complain as he pulled you to your feet and out of the gym. The cold wind nipped at your skin as you headed across the walkway into the main building, Suga keeping a strong grip on your arm as if afraid you would fall over if he released you.

The nurse was the same young man that had been working there when you attended the school, a navy-haired man with eyes brighter than your future. He turned his attention to the two of you when you entered, quirking a brow.

“I knew you were gonna be held back,”

Your eye twitched, sending a wave of pain through your face. “I wasn’t held back, you jerk.”

He hummed as if he didn’t believe you. “Have a seat and tell me what happened. Another fight?”

“Y/N got hit in the face with a volleyball,” Suga explained with worry, helping you sit on the side of the stiff bed.

Despite trying to keep himself professional, he let out a short laugh. “Sorry, sorry. I just imagined you trying to do sports, ha!”

You rolled your eyes. “I wasn’t doing sports, I was trying to sleep.”

He sat down on the stool, rolling over to you with a grin. “That sounds right. Sugawara, you can head back, I’ll take good care of Y/N.”

Suga chewed on his bottom lip, torn between doing as he said and staying with you. “Is it broken?”

Kaze hummed again, sliding his hands into latex gloves before moving closer, his thumbs on either side of your nose. You winced at the sudden pressure. “Nope, not broken. They’ll be just fine.”

Suga released a relieved sigh, offering you a smile. “I’ll see you after class, Y/N.”

You sent him a mock salute, watching as he left the nurse’s office.

“Hold this cloth over your nose and tilt your head forward,” he ordered, handing you a piece of folded gauze.

“I thought it was backward,” you mumbled, placing the gauze over your nostrils.

“And this is why I’m the nurse and you’re not~ When you have a nosebleed, you shouldn’t hold your head back because blood can go down your throat and irritate your stomach, which may result in vomiting and more nose irritation.” He paused, seemingly proud of himself. “Look at that, you’re not even a student here anymore and I’m still slapping you with knowledge! I should be charging you.”

“Don’t count on it,” you responded, your words slightly muffled. It took about fifteen minutes for your nose to finally stop bleeding and ten more before Kaze would allow you to leave the office.

‘The hell am I supposed to do now?’ you wondered as you left the school building, heading for the vending machines near the gym. It would be weird if you just waited around for school to end, but you were too tired and annoyed to go anywhere else only to be dragged back to the gym once the school day ended.

You decided to settle down on a bench behind the gym, arms folded behind your head as you stretched out your body. The tree above you blocked most of the light from the sun, the shade making the breeze feel colder than it actually was, but you didn’t really mind. Your eyes slid closed and it wasn’t long before you were asleep.

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

“Hey, wake up.”

Your body was shook lightly and you grunted, eyes blurry as they gazed up at the face hovering over you. It took a moment before you were able to focus on the face. “Ah, it’s the beanpole.”

He scowled at the nickname, straightening his body as you sat up on the bench, yawning loudly. His cheeks darkened as he took in your appearance and how adorable you looked after having just woken up.

“School over?” you questioned, rubbing at your eyes.

“Yeah. Sugawara-senpai is looking for you,”

“Mm, ‘course he is.” You pulled yourself to your feet, making a move to brush past him but his long, slender fingers curled around your upper arm to stop you. You paused, turning your body to better see him.

His brow was furrowed, lips parted but no sound escaped him.

“What?” you demanded. “Spit it out or let me go,”

“I’m sorry,” he said suddenly, his golden eyes far more interested in the dirt at your feet.

“For?”

The blonde’s pokerface was broken, making way for a guilty expression. His lips parted, closed, and then parted again. And then it clicked.

“You hit the ball,”

He nodded. “I didn’t mean to hit you… I’m sorry.”

The corner of your lips tugged up into a lopsided smirk. “You gonna make it up to me?”

His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What do you want?”

“Not much,” you shrugged, eyes glinting. Even with your bruised nose, you were able to send a shiver of fear down his spine. “I’m thinking you can be my personal slave for a while,”

“No way!” He scowled.

“Fine then,” you shrugged, turning toward the direction of the gym. “I’ll just have to get you back, then. Watch your back, beanpole~”

With a groan, he jogged to catch up to you. “Kei Tsukishima,”

You quirked a brow. “That a curse or somethin’?”

“It’s my name, idiot.” He deadpanned.

You grinned, offering him your hand. He hesitated, his hand hovering in the air before finally resting against your own. Despite the coldness outside, your skin was warm against his, seeming to travel up his arm and into his cheeks. His heart started to race within his breast and he felt… nervous. Why did you make him feel this way?

Likewise, you felt a spark when your hands connected, warmth filling your body and settling on your chest like a small kitten looking for a place to sleep. You weren’t the most observant person in the world, but you hadn’t been out of school long enough to forget about how your classmates gushed about what falling in love felt like. Each one had something different to say about the experience, but there were always overlapping descriptors. What you were feeling now, like he was the most important person you had ever met, that you just wanted to wrap him in your arms and never let go… Were you falling for this bratty first year?

‘No no, that can’t be possible. We only just met,’ But you’d be lying if you said time didn’t stop as soon as his hand slid into your own. In that moment, nothing else mattered but the blonde boy in front of you. “Hey -”

“Y/N!” Suga rounded the corner and you quickly pulled your hand away, shoving it into your pocket. Tsukishima’s fell to his side limply, as if he wasn’t sure what to do with it. Suga smiled when he finally reached you, resting his hands on your upper arms. “How are you feeling? Did you get the okay from Kaze-san?”

“I’m fine, stop worrying so much, mother hen.” You flicked his forehead and he pouted.

Tsukishima’s lips formed a thin line as he watched the two of you joking around, the third-year’s hands still on your arms. He didn’t like it – the casual way he touched you, the caring way he looked at you, the smile you offered him, your tone teasing him. He wondered what it would be like to be in Suga’s position right now.

“Tsukishima?” Suga called, offering the blonde the same worried expression. “Y/N didn’t attack you, did they?”

“What kind of monster do you take me for?” You scoffed.

“…I’m not answering that.”

“Coward,”

He stuck his tongue out at you before turning back to the blonde, but he was already walking away toward the gym. You stared at his back as your feelings swirled around you uncertainly.

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

Several days passed by, filled with fleeting glances between the two of you and a cacophony of unanswered questions. While you had been asked out several times during your time in high school, you had never been interested in dating or being in a relationship. And love? You would have said it didn’t exist if your classmates hadn’t been so adamant about finding it.

“Don’t worry, Hinata. Shake it off and keep going.” Daichi told the boy with an encouraging smile, once again taking on a more fatherly role.

You approached him as he stood beside the court, observing as the team took turns working on their receives. “Dai, can I talk to you for a minute?”

He looked at you in surprise before nodding, his fingers wrapping around your elbow as he led you from the building. You weren’t aware of the golden eyes following your form until they could no longer see you.

Once a safe distance away from the gym, he gave you his attention. He had always been close to you from the day the two of you had met, and he hadn’t missed how off you had been acting the last few days, but you were an introvert and kept to yourself unless it got serious. He knew it’d be a waste of time to ask you directly, so he waited until you came to him of your own accord, as you so often did.

“What happened?” he asked softly, folding hid arms across his chest.

You were quiet for a moment, eyes focusing on a small, grey bird that was hopping across the grass in search of food. “Is it possible to love someone you’ve just met?”

His eyes widened. He had prepared himself for a multitude of scenarios that could be the cause for your strange behavior as of late, but love? He never would have guessed that. It just wasn’t something you cared about. “Anything’s possible,” he commented, chuckling when you clicked your tongue, dissatisfied with the answer. “There’s a reason people talk about love at first sight. It’s definitely possible.”

“It wasn’t love at first sight though.” You muttered. “More like… love at first touch, I guess?”

“Hmm. And how did you feel when you touched?”

“Weird,” your brow furrowed as you recalled the moment and the emotions that had come along with it. “Warm, content. I wanted him to be mine.”

Daichi smiled warmly, resting his hands on your shoulders. “I never thought I’d see the day when you actually fell for someone. Who is he?”

You trusted Dai with your life, but you weren’t sure if you should tell him. It was his teammate, plus he was a first-year and you were no longer a high school student. There were only four years between you, but you knew people wouldn’t see it that way. You were now considered an adult, even though you hadn’t changed at all in the short amount of time you had been out of school.

“You can tell me,” he spoke softly, as if reading your mind. “I won’t judge you, you know that, Y/N.”

“Tsukishima,” you answered, meeting his gaze. His eyes remained warm, not showing any disgust or malice.

“Really? I didn’t think he was your type.”

“I don’t have a type,”

“Are you gonna tell him?”

“‘Course not,” you scoffed, turning your attention back to the bird. A crow had joined him in his search for food. Every time he managed to snatch a bug, he would bring it over to the smaller bird, nipping at his head before hopping away to continue the search. “It’s bad enough my first love is a first-year. Can you imagine getting rejected by one, too? Nah,”

“I think you’ll regret not taking a chance,”

“Maybe, but I’ll probably regret it more if I do.” You smiled softly at him, “Thank you, Dai, for always being here.”

“You’re family, Y/N. I’ve always got your back.” Daichi held his arms out and you chuckled, allowing yourself to fall into his arms. Like always, he seemed to make your worries disappear, if only for a few moments.

Tsukishima glanced out the door, just barely able to make out your form in the distance. He could only watch in frustration, hand clutching the door frame tightly as his captain held you to his chest.

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

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fight-surrender · 5 years

Text

Whumptober Day 23, 24: “Bleeding Out & Secret Injury”

Word count: 1610

Rating: T

Simon

“Fuck a nine toed troll!” I curse as I brush the furry grey creature off my shoulder and impale it with my sword. I tend to quote Penny when I do something stupid. Letting this creature get the drop on me was definitely stupid. Particularly given that it’s just taken a chunk out of my arm.

The animal is dangling from the tip of my sword, speared like a particularly gristly hors d’oeuvre. I bring it in for a closer look. It’s almost cute, vaguely guinea pig like, with grey fur tipped in black. Large purple eyes, green whiskers. Hell and horrors, it’s a polycythema vera.

Penny and Baz are going to kill me. Probably before this bite does.

They’re already angry that I took this job with the coven, rounding up invasive magickal species. Now I’ve gone and gotten myself bitten by one of the very species I was supposed to be hunting. This is just spectacular.

I flick the creature to the ground and stab it again for good measure.

Baz and Penny said they saw a vera in America, trying to get into Shep’s truck when we were escaping that rogue gang of freakish magical rejects in the dead zone. Somehow, one must have stowed away with us and now they’ve invaded England. Fortunately, the trolls rather think veras are delicious, so they keep the population in check. However, pockets tend to accumulate in the areas with fewer bridges. The Coven stepped in to help eradicate them and they asked me to help. I suppose that makes me a magickal pest control guy.

Veras aren’t particularly magickal. I think they can teleport for short distances, making them tricky to catch. They pack a nasty bite though. Their toxin does something to your spleen, making you bleed out internally, only your body keeps making more blood. So instead of passing out and dying like a normal person, you just sort of slowly fill up with blood til you like, explode or something. I haven’t really worked out the logistics.

Now I’ve been bitten.

I am not telling Penny and Baz.

Now that I’ve gotten my shit together (thank you new therapist) they have only recently stopped hovering over me. The last thing I need is them wringing their hands while I die a slow painful, possibly explosive death. I suppose I’ll say my goodbyes when things get bad and die alone in the woods, like a cat.

In the meantime, I imagine I should live my life to the fullest. Carpe diem and whatnot.

Baz:

Something is going on with Simon. He’s acting strange. Not necessarily in a bad way, it all just seems a bit…much. We’ve been out almost every day, a different activity. Yesterday, a leisurely tour of the British Museum, followed by curry and samosas in the park (he made me eat). He also made me return the books I stole all those years ago (I can’t believe he remembered that). Saturday was a visit to Ebb’s grave, deep in the wood. Last week we went to Paris, because he’s never been to France (he says the Watford sour cherry scones are still better than any French pastries).

It’s all been enjoyable; he’s been very attentive.

To me.

Loving, affectionate, present.

But it’s weird.

All of this significance. It feels a bit like a bucket list.

I’m trying to enjoy it, but I’ve been feeling off. Not myself. Like I can’t get warm and I can’t get full. I’m thirsty all the time, and nothing I do seems to be helping. I’ve eaten all the rats within a 20-kilometer radius and I’ve even resorted to buying blood from the local butchers. Nothing is helping.

I can’t get Lamb’s voice out of my head, telling me I was malnourished.

I refuse to follow that thought. I’m not—that.

But I’m also getting really tired. Like, exhausted. Like ‘it’s a struggle to get out of bed’ level tired.

I don’t know how much time I’ve got left.

Simon:

The poison is kicking in. I’m so tired.

Exhausted. Like, I feel as if my arms and legs were lead weights- tired. Dead dog tired.

I’m not sure how much time I’ve got left.

I don’t have to think about that right now because I’m actually in bed. With Baz, and there’s no place I’d rather be.

I’m the big spoon, because I’m always the big spoon. With my arm across his chest I pull him closer and hike my leg across his thigh. I carefully brush his hair away from his ear so I can murmur, “fancy a lie in?”

“Absolutely yes,” Baz croaks, voice thick with sleep. He intertwines his fingers with mine.

We both doze off.

Baz:

I wake before Simon. It’s an effort just to open my eyes.

I look at his arm, wrapped around my waist. His color is wrong, his once tawny skin is a vague mottled purple, how have I not noticed this?

Simon:

I open my eyes and look at Baz’s shoulder in front of me. He’s so pale he’s almost transparent. He’s thinner, I can see the bones poking through his skin. How have I not noticed this?

Baz rolls over and fixes me with his thundercloud eyes. “What the fuck is going on, Snow?”

“Er—what do you mean?” I’m stammering, this isn’t how I’d planned this to go.

“You’ve been dragging me through this virtual bucket list lately, you’re acting weird and now you’re purple!”

“It’s not a bucket list.” It is a bucket list.

“Answer the question.” Baz is using his “don’t fuck with me” voice.

Time to come clean then. I pick at an imaginary string on the duvet. “I may have been bitten by a vera.”

Baz’s eyebrows go down and he looks like he’s going to finish me off himself. “What? When? When the fuck were you going to tell me?”

My plan suddenly feels very stupid. “Well, I was going to tell you, when I felt… you know, closer to death.”

“Closer. To. Death?” Baz’s voice cracks. He looks extra murderous.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t want you to feel all sad and melancholy just because I was dying,” I reason.

Baz sighs and buries his head in my chest. “Simon, you splendid fucking moron.”

I think it might be safe to wrap my arms around his waist and pull him on top of me. I try it.

Baz raises his head and his fangs are popped. Not safe then. “Er—I’m not ready to die just yet, Baz.”

His hand goes to his mouth, I don’t think he realized his fangs were there. “Merlin, I’m a mess,” he says this giddily. “You’re a mess,” he’s laughing now. “We’re a mess squared,” he giggles, it’s a bit manic. He lays his head back on my chest.

I pat his back and smile awkwardly, I don’t laugh. I might blow.

Baz lifts his head again, wiping his eyes. “You see,” he stammers, “I have a problem.”

“OK…?” I offer.

He sits up a little, straddling me. He traces my scars with a long, pale finger. “I’m—starving.”

“Well, let’s order delivery then,” I grab his thighs to push him off so I can find my phone. He plants himself, hands to my chest and I can’t move. Vampire strength.

“No love, it’s not that,” he looks down, takes a breath then looks back at me. “I’m starving—of thirst. “The animal blood doesn’t seem to work anymore…” his voice trails off.

“Oh,” my mouth is hanging open, even though Baz has thoroughly trained me to close it.

“So here I am, the bloodthirsty vampire, dying of thirst,” he cracks up again, “with my half dragon boyfriend who is literally dying of excess blood.” He chortles and wipes his eyes again, “it’s like a goth Hallmark movie special. A match made in hell.”

He’s giggling, but he also looks a little sad.

“So,” I say, once he’s caught his breath. “Just so I have this straight,” I point at him, “you don’t have enough blood.” I point at myself, “and I’ve got too much of it?”

“Yes, that about sums it up,” Baz concedes.

Blimey, what are the odds?” I wonder.

“A million to one, I’d wager,” Baz sighs.

“Well, what are you waiting for, you barmy git? Come over here and bite me.”

“It’s not that simple, Snow.” Baz is frowning at me again.

“It bloody well is that simple, Baz,” I say feeling sparks of anger.

“What if I Turn you?” It’s almost a whisper.

“Shepherd said that most vampires don’t Turn people, and so what if you do? I’m going to die anyway if you don’t do anything. At least this way, you’ll get a good meal out of it, and we can figure out the rest later. We’ve been through worse.”

Baz pushes my hair off my forehead, “we have been through worse.”

I reach up and pull Baz back down on top of me. He settles on my chest. We’re nose to nose. I run my thumbs along his cheekbones. “Now come on and bite me. You look like shit you know.”

“Thank you, Snow. You’re looking rough and weedy yourself.”

I kiss him then, even though that’s probably not a good idea, given the blood lust.

“Are you ready?” I ask.

“No.”

“Will you do it anyway?”

“Yes.”

“I love you, Baz.”

“I love you too, Simon.”

I close my eyes, and then, in a rush of warmth and cedar and bergamot, Baz bites my neck.

#whumptober2019 #whumptober 2019 #whumptober day 23 #whumptober day 24 #carry on #wayward son #wayward son spoilers #sort of #not really #simon snow #baz pitch #pardon my grammar #pardon the typos #non beta'd

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angstmatsuscenarios · 5 years

Note

How about an Ichimatsu sickfic? I believe that’s within the limits of the rules. I dunno, maybe he tried to play it off as nothing, but stuff happens? I’ll just leave the rest to you. I rly like this blog and I’m excited to see the ask box open again!

Sickfic is not only welcome but also my forte, hehe. Here is some Ichi sickfic for you, hope you enjoy!

Warning for a brief mention of needles (drawing blood, very brief and non-graphic) under the cut:

At first Ichimatsu didn’t give much thought to the fatigue and sore throat he’d been suffering through all day--it had been annoying, but he figured it was probably just allergies, and had kept his face mask on the whole day. He’d felt lousy for the past couple of weeks, and figured it was nothing too bad.

By that night, though, he felt worse--he’d had no appetite at dinner, and it took nearly all of his energy to follow his brothers to the bathhouse. The soak in the hot water felt good to his aching muscles, but the walk home was excruciating, his legs trudging along slowly and his whole body shivering even though it wasn’t that cold out. When they finally got back home all he could do was crawl into the futon the second it was laid out and curl up in his spot, burying his face deep in the blankets.

“Does Ichimatsu seem okay to you?” he overheard Osomatsu ask the remaining brothers.

“He looks rather pale, and he’s shaking…” Karamatsu noted, a hint of concern in his voice. “Perhaps he’s fallen ill?”

“Then we should force him to sleep in the other room,” Todomatsu asserted. “What if he’s contagious?”

“Have some heart for once, Todomatsu,” Choromatsu admonished him. “He’s wearing a mask, and besides, when has splitting us up ever stopped us from catching each other’s colds anyway?”

“I’m sure he’ll be okay!” Jyushimatsu said with assurance. “But he looks tired, we should let him rest.”

“Fine...but if we’re all coughing and sneezing by the next morning, don’t blame me,” Todomatsu replied curtly.

Ichimatsu would’ve chimed in with a “shut up and die, Todomatsu” had his throat not hurt so badly. Instead he hunkered down deeper in bed and closed his eyes, willing himself to fall asleep and hoping he’d feel better in the morning.

-----------

Mhhh….I feel horrible….

It was the first thought to flicker in Ichimatsu’s mind as he sluggishly came to the next morning. He felt truly miserable, it had been a long time since he’d ever felt this sick...if he had before, now that he thought of it. He was dripping in sweat and wracked with chills all at once, his throat burned more painfully than it ever had before, and he was aware of a dull ache in his side. Not to mention, he was exhausted.

He sat up, slowly, but that brought on a wave of dizziness that made him feel like laying right back down again. His temples pulsated with an awful headache, and he brought his hands up to rub his bleary eyes and will some of the wooziness to go away. It didn’t.

Dammit….guess it wasn’t just allergies after all….

He groaned, reluctantly crawling out from under the futon. He was alone in the room--he assumed his brothers had gotten up to go eat breakfast and had left him to rest. The thought of food suddenly made him feel nauseous, but as much as he wanted to just go straight back to sleep he knew he at least needed to get medicine.

He stood slowly, the room swaying and his head spinning. He shuffled on wobbly legs into the hallway, pressing his hand against the wall for support. Every step was grueling, requiring so much effort it caused sweat to bead up on his forehead.

What...the hell...is wrong with me…?

He was close to the stairs, just a few more steps...he gingerly put one foot in front of the other, then again…

But suddenly his legs gave out on him, folding so that he hit the floor with a weak grunt. He leaned all his weight against the wall, unable to support himself, whimpering quietly as he rubbed the sore spot on his side.

Something’s wrong...this isn’t just the flu, is it…?

“Ichimatsu-niisan!”

Ichimatsu had been so zoned out he didn’t notice Jyushimatsu thundering up the stairs until he was by his side, kneeling next to him with a worried expression on his face.

“Are you okay? I heard a thud, did you fall?” Jyushimatsu asked, and although he wasn’t exactly shouting his voice was loud enough to Ichimatsu’s pounding head to make his ears ring.

“N-no...don’t feel good…” Ichimatsu managed to groan out a response, his throat stinging so badly it made his eyes water.

Jyushimatsu frowned. “You look awful...look at your neck, your glands are really swollen. And you’re super pale…”

Still rambling, Jyushimatsu helped Ichimatsu slowly back to his feet. Ichimatsu was just barely aware as his brother practically carried him back to the sextuplets’ room and tucked him back into bed. All the while he wore an anxious expression that was very unlike the sunny fifth son’s usual disposition.

“I’m gonna get Mom, okay?” Jyushimatsu said, lightly patting Ichimatsu’s head. “She’ll help you, she always knows what to do.”

Ichimatsu only managed a feeble moan in response, closing his eyes. He’d never been this miserable when sick before, and it scared him...even scarier was that he didn’t have the energy to be as scared as he probably should be. He could only hope his mother could help him, though he doubted he would be cured by her gentle touch and homemade soup.

What’s going on…?

----------

After hearing that Ichimatsu had nearly passed out, Matsuyo insisted on taking him to the doctor. He hated doctors, but he was so out-of-it that he simply put up with the poking and prodding and blood-taking without much fuss (that was a real sign of how sick he was--he didn’t put up a fight when he saw the needle, just turned his head in the other direction and kept his eyes shut tight when his blood was drawn).

Fortunately, it wasn’t long before they received a diagnosis...but unfortunately, it was more serious than anticipated. According to the doctor Ichimatsu had mononucleosis. That explained why he’d felt so run-down for the last few weeks, and also why the glands in his neck were so swollen. The doctor went on to explain that it was the reason Ichimatsu’s side hurt, too--his spleen was swollen, a fact that thoroughly freaked him out, though the doctor said as long as he was careful not to injure his spleen and cause it to rupture the swelling would most likely go down sooner rather than later (the word “rupture” only induced more panic).

There wasn’t much that could be done to treat mono, either--the most vital thing was rest. It could take weeks, even months, for someone to recover completely from mono, Ichimatsu discovered, and while it didn’t affect him too much since he had no job or school to worry about...the idea of being sick for so long was scary. He couldn’t imagine going more than a few days feeling this crappy, but weeks? Months?! Not to mention, it meant staying home and resting that whole time...he wasn’t much for leaving the house to begin with, but not be able to visit his cat friends in the alley, or join his brothers when they went to Chibita’s? He hated the thought of being excluded from all of that for who knew how long.

The doctor tried to be reassuring, insisting it was possible to have a speedier recovery as long as he took good care of himself, but all Ichimatsu felt was dread. It was awful news, he couldn’t even pretend there was a bright side to it.

When Ichimatsu got home from the doctor, he’d found his brothers had set up a temporary room for him in the spare room. It wasn’t just that his mono was potentially contagious, but they insisted it would be easier for him to recuperate if he had peace and quiet while he rested. He wanted to call bull on that last claim, but was so tired that he just crawled right into his futon in his “new” room and went right to sleep without protest.

Days passed by. It wasn’t long before Ichimatsu started to feel bored and lonely. He felt marginally better than he had the first couple of days, but he was still nowhere near well, and the thought was depressing to him that he’d have a long time of feeling this way.

He spent most of his time sleeping. He didn’t have the energy for much else. Sometimes his mother popped in to give him food (which he hardly ate—his throat hurt too much and his appetite was pretty much nonexistent), and other times one of his brothers would pay a quick visit (wearing a mask, not surprisingly). It was nice, but not the same as being with them like usual, and once they left he felt sad again.

Gradually, though, Jyushimatsu began spending more and more time with him. He’d sit at Ichimatsu’s bedside for hours, playing a game or reading a manga or sorting his baseball cards—activities he didn’t always possess much patience for, being as active as he was. He made light conversation with Ichimatsu, though kept it to a minimum, knowing Ichimatsu wasn’t much for talking. It was the quietest and most still Jyushimatsu had ever been.

Ichimatsu was grateful for the company, but he felt guilty as well. Surely this wasn’t what Jyushimatsu felt like doing—this had to be cutting into his baseball time, which he treasured. Ichimatsu didn’t want both of them to be trapped inside all the time, not when Jyushimatsu was well and could do whatever he wanted.

“Jyushi,” Ichimatsu spoke up one afternoon, his voice rusty. Jyushimatsu had been poring over a baseball book, but perked up at the sound of Ichimatsu’s voice. “You don’t have to stay with me all the time...you can go outside and play baseball or whatever you want. I feel bad if you’re staying in all the time because of me.”

Jyushimatsu offered a bright smile. “But, Ichimatsu-niisan, I am doing what I want!” he insisted, crawling closer to his brother. “It must suck being sick in bed for so long. I wouldn’t want to be alone all the time if it were me. Besides, I have my most fun when I’m with you—even if you can’t do much now, I like being with you. And baseball isn’t the same without you there, either.”

“Really…?” Ichimatsu wasn’t so sure about that. How much fun could he be?

“Really!” Jyushimatsu nodded enthusiastically. “You’re my best friend, I’ll always stay by your side! And it won’t be like this forever either, sooner or later you’ll recover and we can get right back to playing! So just keep your chin up, okay, Niisan?”

Ichimatsu blinked, just a little surprised...not to mention touched. Jyushimatsu really did just want to spend time with him, even if that time consisted of doing nothing more than hanging out in the same room together while he slept. Jyushimatsu really was his best friend, and even though he still felt terrible that realization made him feel just a little better.

“Thank you, Jyushi...I’ll try.”

“You’ll be back to yourself in no time!” Jyushimatsu enthused with a grin that made Ichimatsu believe it. “Anyway, why don’t I read to you from my book until you fall asleep?”

“I’d like that. Thanks.”

With that, Jyushimatsu settled down right beside Ichimatsu and started reading, angling the book so they could both see inside. Ichimatsu wasn’t particularly interested in baseball facts and stats, but it was comforting being read to, and Jyushimatsu’s surprisingly soft voice soon lulled him into sleep.

It would take time for him to get better, but with Jyushimatsu by his side, maybe the road to recovery wouldn’t be as awful as it seemed.

#osomatsu san #osomatsu san angst #ichimatsu #sickfic #sick character #mononucleosis

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reivenesque · 5 years

Text

Jay Halstead Whump Fic

A seemingly random series of attacks in Chicago targeting men and women of various ages, races and backgrounds ends with one of Intelligence’s own fighting for his life. His co-workers and friends; his family, are forced to confront the fact that one of them might not walk away unscathed this time around – if he manages to walk away at all.

Okay guys, the day no one (including myself) thought would ever come! I’ve finally decided to take the plunge/make the commitment and finally put this story out there for the world to see. Also seeing as I started writing this a couple of seasons ago so some characters who are deceased or have departed are not deceased or have departed in this universe.

Mission Objective

Chapter 1: The Case

They had three victims from three completely different backgrounds; three different ethnicities, age and gender and no matter how deep they dug through the trash the only thing they could find linking the victims to each other was the M.O and the fact that at the end of the day it just seemed to be a completely random series of attacks perpetrated by the same person for absolutely no reason.

“All victims were stabbed twice, once in the flank and once in the side. We believe he came up from behind and surprised them; the first stab wasn’t meant to kill, only to incapacitate. They also had bruising around the neck to support that theory. The second was to keep them down. Two of the three victim suffered multiple broken bones, bruises and contusions and internal damage from a beating but all three died as a result of severe blood loss. Whoever this guy is and whatever he wants from them, this guy has got some serious beef with these people.” Antonio finished his assessment and returned back to sit perched on the side of his desk.

“The only thing in common in these cases are the M.O’s,” Jay started, “The victims have nothing in common that we can find that links them to one another. Yvonne Miller: thirty-seven, mother of two. No priors, no record, nothing to indicate that she was anything other than a squeaky clean mom who does carpool on the weekdays. Hubert Harris the Third, fifty-three,” Jay placed special emphasis on the title, “Drill Sergeant in the army for over twenty years, no criminal record, no priors, not even a parking ticket. The fact that he went through life, much less the army and up to the rank of Drill Sergeant with the name Hubert Harris the Third meant that this was definitely not a guy to be messed with. And Javier Herrera, twenty-seven. Just got back from two tours overseas, spotless record on all fronts and an absolutely stand-up guy from what we gathered from the people who knew him. Had no beef with anyone. He was attacked in the alley behind his house; DOA. No witnesses in any of these cases.”

“Well the fact that their faces are pinned up on that board and their bodies lying cold in the morgue meant that they definitely had beef with someone, and I want to know who, where and why,” ordered Voight, his gravelly voice almost rumbling through the walls of the bullpen of the Intelligence headquarters of the CPD. “And I needed that information five minutes ago.”

A chorus of ‘yes, Serge’s rang up as everyone dispersed to return to their own desks.

It was a case they’d been working on ever since the discovery of the first victim, Yvonne Miller, a widowed single mother, in her apartment by her landlord almost three weeks ago. She died as a result of shock from the blood loss at the hospital later that day. The second victim died on the way to the hospital and the third was dead before the first unit was even the scene and neither CPD nor the Intelligence Unit was any close to identifying the killer. The best lead they had was a next door neighbour of the second victim hearing the sound of a male voice yelling what, according to him, sounded like Arabic, in the apartment the evening before the victim’s body was found. They’d found nothing to indicate that it was a racially motivated crime however. And there were no cameras at any of the exits or on the street and no one saw anyone coming or leaving the crime scene at any point before or after the attack, so they found themselves up against a brick wall in regards to that lead.

Essentially, they had bupkis.

So getting the call that another victim had been found beaten in his apartment later that morning did nothing to ease the tweaked up nerves of everyone working the case, only the fact that he was still alive and was on route to Med kept most of them from wanting to punch a wall.

“Troy Hargreaves,” said Will Halstead who was waiting for their arrival at the entrance of the hospital, starting his assessment without waiting for the go ahead, “Thirty-two; stabbed once in the lumbar area and once in the lower right abdomen, multiple contusions to the torso, broken ribs, ruptured spleen. He’s up in surgery as we speak. His injuries look severe but I’m optimistic about his chances. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that this definitely fits the same pattern as the other victims.”

Voight scrubbed his face with his hand almost like a nervous habit, but anyone who knew him knew that Voight didn’t get nervous. Most likely it was out of frustration and anger. They weren’t any closer to catching the guy and from what little they could deduce, it didn’t seem like he was likely to stop until he got whatever it was he wanted or whoever it was he wanted.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m sick of sitting around with my thumb up my ass watching this guy get one up on us again,” said Voight, the frustration obvious on his face, not acknowledging Olinsky coming up behind him and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder to calm him down.

“It’s late, we’re all fired up from this asshole giving us the run around. I’ll wait for the vic to come out of surgery and update you on what I can get from him, the rest of you – go home, rest up and come back fresh faced in the morning,” said Olinsky, “Well, as fresh faced as you ugly lot can get,” he added with a wisp of a smile; his voice soft and his characteristic as of calmness extending to the rest of the team.

“Al’s right,” said Voight after a beat, exhaling tiredly. “Go home.”

“You sure, boss?” Ruzek asked, looking around at the rest of the group. It was obvious that the offer was the most tempting to him though all of them looked equally dead on their feet after almost going almost forty-eight hours without sleep trying to find the perp before he struck again only to have found themselves left in the bloodied dust trail once again.

“You gonna make me say it twice?” asked Voight with a stern look in Ruzek’s direction.

“No, boss,” said Ruzek immediately, arms raised in front of him.

“Then get the hell out of here.”

None of them struck around to be told a third time.

“I swear to god I’m gonna put two bullets right in the middle his face when we catch this bastard and then go home and sleep like a baby,” said Ruzek as he and the rest of the team made their way down the hospital corridor towards the exit.

Usually it’s be one of them – Ruzek, Kim or Atwater tasked to stay behind because they were the newer members, but Al had insisted and none of them really wanted to be alone with Voight in a closed space while he was in that particular mood.

“I definitely second the suggestion,” said Kim a little too heartily.

“Get in line,” said Hailey. The threat would have come across a lot more menacing had she not been in the middle of a yawn; her arms stretched high above her head like a cat.

“Well I for one would be happy if we managed to even catch the guy and put a stop to all this,” said Atwater. “That’d do my sleep a world of good already.”

Jay had many things to add to the conversation but the strength to say none of them. He was tired, physically and mentally so he just opted for an amused chuckle from where he was walking just a few steps behind the rest of the team

“How about a drink at Molly’s before we turn in?” suggested Ruzek once conversation had begun tapering off. “God knows we could all use a stiff one– or five.”

Atwater was immediately down for the plan though Hailey and Kim both seemed equally undecided.

Jay however wasn’t in the mood for the drink or the company. He was too wired from the lack of sleep and too much caffeine and quite frankly too pissed to be good company. Something about the case, especially the fact that two of the victims were Vets, just struck a chord in him. He always felt a strange sort of camaraderie, whether they were the victims or the perps, when it came to people who’d served. He imagined the victims being someone he knew, someone he served with – a brother. At the same time, the person who’d committed the crime could have just as easily been someone he knew or someone he served with.

Hell, it could have just as easily been him.

If it hadn’t been for Mouse being there for him – if there hadn’t been the thought in the back of his mind when he was at his lowest that he was just as much Mouse’s crutch as he was his; if it hadn’t been for the police force giving him an outlet to channel his silent rage and his trauma and anxiety, he could have just as easily turned out to be one of the people he put away.

Sure he had Will and maybe his dad to some extent, but they didn’t understand. They couldn’t understand. They weren’t there. They didn’t experience what he experienced. They didn’t see what he saw. They didn’t feel what he felt: the fear and helplessness and shame.

And they definitely couldn’t deal with it – deal with him, the way Mouse had been able to – by just being there, but just understanding without having to be explained; by knowing without having to be told.

Will had the natural instinct to want to fix everything; to find a source of the ailment and apply a treatment and a cure – that’s what made him such a good doctor.

But Jay didn’t need a doctor, he needed a brother and that was something Will was unable to be to him at the time. Their relationship had improved much since then, but still when situations like this arose, the absence of Mouse felt so much more apparent.

Jay knew he wasn’t going to be such good company – he could already feel like anxiety levels getting progressively higher the longer he remained in the vicinity of the hospital. Hospitals all smelled the same and had the same kind of aura pulsating off it. It didn’t matter if it was on home soil or in some run down building in another third world country – it always smelled the same and at that point Jay just wanted to be home.

“Nah, guys,” said Jay. “I think I’m gonna turn in early.”

“You sure, Jay?” asked Ruzek. “You’re gonna miss out. Atwater’s paying. This phenomenon only happens once in a blue moon,” he said with a mischievous grin. “Pigs might even fly!”

Atwater scoffed. “Yeah, Jay. I’ll be doing the paying with money from Ruzek’s pocket. You won’t want to miss the spectacle. I don’t think anyone but flies have ever seen the inside of his raggedy ass wallet.”

“I’ll have you know, Atwater, that I was voted ‘most generous’ by the whole sophomore girls swim team for two years in a row.”

“Yeah,” said Atwater, completely deadpan. “I’m sure teenage you was definitely generous with something.”

“Hey!” objected Ruzek, mock offended.

“Anyway,” said Jay, cutting into the conversation, “Based on this conversation alone I’m sure it’s gonna be a hoot and a half, but I think I’ll pass, You guys have fun though,” he said, which in Jay-speak meant that the conversation was done.

The girls had opted to join in for ‘just one drink’ which was usually code for ‘more than one drink’, but once Jay decided on a course of action, it was very hard to change his mind.

“You’re seriously no fun, Halstead,” said Ruzek teasingly at his retreating back.

“I’m loads of fun,” said Jay from over his shoulder, “Just with better company than you.”

Ruzek’s response was a hearty laugh topped off with a middle finger salute but Jay had already stepped around the corner and out of sight and didn’t see. He felt no need to turn back for a second look at his team; he’d see their ugly mugs in the morning anyway.

He took a detour to find Will on his way out – which was ironically easier in theory than in reality, especially considering it was his brother’s place of work – to take a rain check on their bi-annual game night get together. They hadn’t had one in a while, what with the influx of work on both their parts, and despite their insistence on not cancelling this time no matter what, Jay really just wasn’t in the mood or the headspace to want to be around anyone.

Jay wondered whether they should just cancel it all together because making plans was never something that aligned with their day jobs.

Fortunately Will wasn’t too disappointed by the cancellation, mainly because he’d been on the same train of through, only slightly more hesitant about it. He’d just come off a double shift and like Jay was planning on spending the night in the company of his own bed, which was a completely acceptable reason in Jay’s book.

They shared a hug and a casual insult before Jay finally stepped out of the hospital, into his truck and drove out of the parking lot with a roar of the exhaust.

Nothing else of importance happened the rest of the day.

tbc.

#jay halstead #chicago pd #whump #one chicago #reiven fics #reiven chicago pd fics #reiven whump fics

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laurasauras · 4 years

Text

2019 fanfiction summary!

Happy new year! This post is to revisit my most popular fics by kudos for every month of 2019! (Where I updated a fic in multiple months, I chose the earliest update and didn’t double up). The quotes I’ve chosen were posted in the corresponding month.

January: Long-Distance (Dave/John, NSFW, finished, 4k)

‘Dave,' John says, and he's using his commanding voice. The one he used last time he came down to visit you. You dropped to your knees so fast after he told you to that you actually had bruises the next day. You're kinda powerless against John's commanding voice.

'Yeah,' you say.

'You're gonna take me to the movies. And you're gonna do what I say. 'Cause you're good for me, aren't you?'

February: Olympus (alphabetaot8+Karkat, Dave/Karkat, NSFW, illustrated, finished, 24k)

CG: WHEN I LEAVE OLYMPUS AND PEOPLE ASK ME, HEY, KARKAT, YOU HAD AN INCREDIBLE RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. TELL US, WHAT ARE THE GODS LIKE? CG: I’M GOING TO HAVE TO TELL THEM THAT YOU’RE ALL HORNY BASTARDS WITH NO CRITICAL THINKING SKILLS. CG: FUCK IT, YOU DON’T DESERVE MY OPEN COMMUNICATION ABOUT WHAT RANDOM TIDBITS I’VE PICKED UP FROM MY VISIONS. CG: SUFFER IN IGNORANCE WONDERING WHAT SECRETS PAST KARKAT HAS WHISPERED THROUGH MY DREAMS AND CHOKE ON MY BULGE, ALL OF YOU.

March: An Opportunity for Wisdom (Dave/Karkat, SFW, finished, 2k)

"You don’t know what you were expecting, bruises maybe? But he mostly looks unfocused and young, probably because his signature shades are resting on his bedside table instead of his nose. Roxy hops onto the end of the bed and pats a spot for you, but you’re having some kind of staring malfunction.

‘So I assume you’re fine,’ you say. ‘The surgeon didn’t take out your spleen along with your excessive enamel or anything?’

Dave blinks slowly at you before turning to Roxy.

‘Rox,’ he stage whispers. ‘Whoooo is this movie star in my bedroom right now.’"

April: I Married My Best Friend. Ironically. (Dirk/John, SFW, in progress, 30k)

John isn't your most platonic friend. He's the dude you've been in love with for months and you've got no idea why you were denying this to everyone, including yourself. You like being in his arms and he's smiling at you in this gorgeous way that makes you think if you kissed him, he'd be even happier.

May: Open Up Your Murder Eyes (Dirk/Hal, NSFW, in progress, 86k)

‘This is all going to be okay,’ you tell him. ‘I'm very good at planning. And I'm very good at holding blood in my body. I do it all the time. I'm gonna fall asleep if you keep doing that, stupid magic hands. That's probably on your palms too, has the ability to make Hal melt, will not use this responsibly. I'll write it on if it isn't already, gotta warn for this shit.’

June: Reason To Believe (Jade/Nepeta, SFW, finished, 7.5k)

You can’t remember how to breathe. You don’t think your heart knows what it usually does either. You feel your hand twitch in hers and oh my God, you’re holding her hand.

‘Can I kiss you?’ she asks.

You might die if she kisses you. You don’t think your body can cope with it. You don’t care. You nod enthusiastically.

July: Irresistible Thoughts (AlphaDave/Dirk, NSFW, finished, 8k)

You have to let him sleep. You have to talk to him about this. You have to … probably never do it again. No, you definitely have to not do it again. (But what if you didn't tell anyone?) Your thoughts are evil and you're not to be trusted alone with them.

August: Your Boyfriend's A Snack (John/Dirk/Bro/Hal, NSFW, finished, 20k)

He plays a good game. Dirk seems to think he hung the damn moon and Hal is delighting in “corrupting” him, but you know better. Your John is rotten down deep. You can feel a kindred spirit in him. And you bring it out in him, too. He steps towards you until he would be in grabbing range if your arms weren’t bound against your side, your forearms behind your back. You’re tempted more than ever to make a real effort at breaking the rope, but you’re curious as to what he might do. Because John has decided that you’re a bad guy. And it doesn’t really matter, in John’s warped please let me do what I want morality, if he does bad things to a bad guy. You love John’s morality. And you love being his bad guy.

September: Murder Is A Very Intimate Fantasy (Death Note, Light/L, NSFW, finished, 10k)

‘One day, I’ll hear you say something that isn’t a lie. Until then …’ L ran a thumb across the flexible material of Light’s collar. ‘Murder is a very intimate fantasy.’

‘Tell me your name,’ Light said.

‘When you tell me yours.’

Light let his head fall onto L’s shoulder and laughed. No, he wasn’t going to confess. But this was an interesting development in the game. He would have been disappointed if L had let him win, even now after all these years and the most brilliant plan he’d ever come up with. What was the point of love if it didn’t challenge you?

October: Knight of Spades (Dave/Karkat, NSFW, in progress, 65k)

The movie finishes and you stop hiding in a strategically hornless patch of Karkat’s head. You straighten and notice that everyone has leaned somewhat towards the centre. Gamzee has his head on Karkat’s lap and his long legs outward. Vriska and Kanaya are both using Terezi as a (presumably much less comfortable) cushion like Karkat and Rose were for you. The Mayor is curled up like a cat in front of everyone. You feel …

Identifying your feelings wasn’t in any of the lessons you had growing up, but this makes your heart ache in a really good way. You feel like you’re safe, really safe, even despite your doomed timeline. You would do anything for the people in this room. Of course everything will turn out okay.

November: I'd Tap That (oh fuck I didn't mean to tap that) (Dave/Karkat, SFW, finished, 17k)

‘What the actual fuck! He used to bully me in high school for being gay! Are you fucking—’

Terezi grabs your phone from you, needing it closer to make up for her appalling vision despite her fancy glasses, and her thumb slips over the screen. The tiny fire icon at the top of his bio fills in.

You both freeze. That’s not a favourite, not like pressing a button so you can come back to his profile later and stare at it while you consider messaging him. That’s a tap. He’s going to get a notification. You’re a fucking lurker, you don’t tap people, you tentatively message polite men back if you’re feeling brave and otherwise stare at pictures of guys you’re never going to date.

December: Double Trouble (Dave/Karkat/Latula/Mituna, NSFW, finished, 5k)

Karkat rolls his eyes and grabs Dave by the upper arm. Dave protests quietly and at length as Karkat drags him towards the smooth area that Mituna and Latula are skating on, but most of it is about the ethics of kidnapping a president so Karkat tunes it out in favour of keeping his focus on the ground under his feet. Dream bubbles sometimes throw unexpected things out there.

#homestuck #my fic #my post #summary #laurasauras fic

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