#long road to recovery

[metalomagnetic]

WIP Snip Monday

let's pretend it's Monday, and not Wednesday.

Thank you so much for the tag @mundrakan

Here is a snippet from "It runs" (This chapter is so stubborn! I promise I am working hard on it, but it's complicated and real life is Hell, so please, bear with me).

----

“Come back to me, yes, there you go. Breathe," his mother's voice soothes him, drags him back to reality. "Everything will be alright.”

“I-”

Sirius doesn’t understand what happened to him, how seamlessly his mind slipped away, one moment in his home, the next in Azkaban, and now his mother is there, and he's confused-

“It’s alright. I’m here. I know I wasn’t always, but I am here. My Sirius, my brightest star. You’re home, you’re safe. Your brother is safe. That monster is dead. No one will ever hurt you again. I won’t allow it, yes? Breathe.”

He rests his head on her shoulder, tries to breathe normally. He shivers, cold and miserable, but one of her frail arms wraps around his back, draws him closer.

“You will heal,” she tells him. “You will have the best Healers in the world, the best potions, and you will heal. You weren’t there that long, the damage is reversible still, I asked, I asked many experts. You will heal from this.” It sounds like an order.

Sirius always disobeyed her, even if he didn't want to, didn't set out to hurt her. He always ended up disappointing her. He doesn't want to do it again, but that word- 'heal'- it sounds foreign, impossible. It sounds like she's setting him up for failure again, because how can Sirius accomplish it?

“And what potions will heal me from finding my best friend dead? From knowing I had a part in his death?” he whispers, terrified that he has to live with that, forever. That he'll have to find a way to accept it.

How can he? How? It's impossible.

“His son will heal you,” she says, determined, her fingers combing through his hair. “Little by little. You’ll see. You’ll have a piece of him with you. The best piece. Trust me when I say, our children are the best parts of us. What survived of Potter, is the purest part of him, the brightest. And you’ll raise him, do right by him, won’t you? That boy needs you stable, needs your love and care, and he’ll love you back, as only children can love.”

Harry. Yes. That’s true. Sirius will see him soon, will hold him. Tomorrow.

“He killed Voldemort,” Sirius whispers, finally voicing it. It doesn't sound real. “Harry.”

His mother snorts, but she keeps her fingers so gentle in his hair. It makes Sirius remember he once felt safe in her arms. Long ago. So very long ago.

He was sick with dragonpox, so sick, and scared, but she never moved from his bed. She stayed with him, wiped his brow with cold cloths, sang to him, held water to his lips. She hugged him when he shivered.

“Mama, will I die?” he asked, because he’d never felt as sick in his life, and he leaned people can die from feeling sick.

“My brightest star, how do you think I’d let you die? Who would dare take you from my arms? Death? I’d destroy it if it even glances your way.”

Sirius looks into her fierce eyes, and for a moment he thinks his mother is just as strong as his father, perhaps even more, because she seems capable of anything, of scaring death away.

“I may not be the most learned woman in the word, I didn’t go to any Institute, but I have lived for some dozens of years now, Sirius, and I have traveled far and wide, read many books, met many people, heard many things. A baby cannot kill a grown wizard."

Sirius knows. He does. And yet-

“He died," he says, and he shivers savagely. His mother's arm clings harder to him. "I found him there. Dead. In front of Harry’s crib.”

He sees it, all over again. Voldemort's body, his empty eyes, the wand between his fingers.

No, no, no. Stop. Sirius can't, he can't think of it. He bites his tongue, hard, he leans even more into his mother, inhales, and her perfume brings him back from the memory.

“Good riddance," she spits, venomous.

All over Britain, people celebrated Voldemort's death, Sirius knows. 'Good riddance'.

'The monster is gone'.

'Let him rot.'

It's fair, Sirius knows it's fair, that Voldemort caused so much pain, to everyone, his enemies or allies alike.

But it hurts. It hurts so much. He was always alone, that beautiful boy from the picture, the angelic child Sirius imagines, in some muggle orphanage, the fiercest dark lord in the world that cooked for Sirius, that held him in his arms at night. It hurts. It's beyond painful.

“I loved him,” Sirius confesses, and his mother goes still, stiffens all over. “I slept with him. Ate with him. Lived in our- in his home. Will you abandon me, too, now?”

She should leave him. Sirius doesn't deserve anything. He doesn't understand why he still has his family, his sanctuary, when James is dead, when Voldemort is gone, alone and terrified somewhere.

Sirius deserves to be alone, too. They should have left him to rot in Azkaban. It's what he deserves.

She takes a long time to answer. First, she resumes petting his hair, and eventually she rests her chin on his head. She sighs.

Just from that, Sirius can imagine how broken and pitiful he looks, exactly how he feels. He is in such a deplorable state, that she doesn't spit on him, doesn't call him a deviant, a disgrace, a stain on her family name.

“That takes longer to heal from,” she whispers. “Loving a hard, cold man isn’t easy. Even when they are heartless, even when they betray you, over and over again, it still hurts when they die.”

“How long?” Sirius asks. “How long does it take to heal from that?”

She hums. “I will tell you when I have an answer,” she says. “I’m still waiting. You can wait with me.”

[grunklefordpines]

Ok, since you find it charming that people are calling you a silver fox, has it helped improve how you see yourself? I feel like a therapist right now, sorry-

Haha!

I scarcely use the mirror—I have better things to be spending my time doing.

[kumapillow]

I’m happy for and proud of Momose, he now has someone to confide in and to support him 🥹😭

[ask-zerotrio]

*pokes head in* Have the AI professors' been updates on the latest memes? And is Clavell ok?

Clavell hangs his head low, bandaged arms hugging himself. At his bedside, Sada and Turo stood still, unsure if their touch would soothe or hurt him further. They knew, of course, that Clavell's heart was bigger than most, and the man would sooner accept any hurt for his loved ones at his own expense.

Thus, through calculated analyses, they decided to keep their mechanical hands still by their sides.

"I could have helped..." Clavell's voice was frail and tired, anger long bled out into quiet disappointment. "Did you not... trust me?" It hurts, where their hearts should be. All that is there within their left side cavity is wire and electrical components.

“We were… ashamed. I believe.” Sada says, brows furrowed in thought. “Our systems had calculated odds of success with different points of contact, but we… rejected them, out of sense of guilt for our creator’s- our actions.”

Clavell keeps falls silent, letting the low beep of machines and the dull hum of Sada and Turo's vent systems of mimicked breath fill it. Many tears had already been shed over the years, and if he cried anymore, Clavell feared he would finally break.

"I am... still glad to have you here." Clavell finally manages, mustering the strength to look at his once closest friends and loved ones.

It's like they never aged a day.

"But I- I... don't think I know how to forgive you yet."

"Clavell-"

"You don't have to-"

"I want to- even after..." Clavell shuts his eyes, fingers brushing against the plaster on his cheek. "I want to. I want my friends back."

---

---

---

[cochineal-leviat]

"Taranza blossoms into his role as one of the castle gardeners. But, he is still uneasy around Kirby and the rest of King Dedede's family - preferring to stay away from the persistent goddess killer. Unfortunately for him, his employer has an ace up his fluffy sleeve."

Heyo! Sorry, it took so long for this chapter to come out. It got so long, and when I finally finished the draft, I got to 14k, which is a lot to edit through. (and well, life getting in the way, you know, the usual) This chapter kicked my ass, and for it have this doodle I made. Please enjoy, cuz I'm going to bed. Have some sad man spider.

[puhpandas]

Veering Off Course

(2,305 words)

Gregory and his family get a call that Vanessa, whos in a different state for college, has gotten hurt. Gregory calls Evan, and Evan is able to use the things he's learned about himself since meeting Gregory to help his friend with his emotions regarding the situation.

Its early in the morning on a Saturday when Evan gets the call. It woke him up, so all he does is blink groggily and swipe at the screen blindly while propped up on his elbow until his thumb hits 'answer' on his phone. "Hello?"

"Evan." It's Gregory, and the serious tone to just that single word clears up Evan's brain as fast as lightning. He scrambles to prop himself into sitting up and rubs at his eyes with one hand.

"Gregory?" Evan asks, looking at the little icon he set for Gregory's contact of a picture of Evan and him at an amusement park. "Is everything okay?"

It takes a second for Gregory to respond, and it causes the anxiety that had steadily began to bubble inside of him to surge. "Gregory?"

"Sorry." Gregory finally answers. "I-- Uh... can you..." His friend struggles for words, and Evan tries to be as patient as possible as it becomes clearer every second something is wrong. "Can you come over? Like right now?"

Evan flounders for words for a second, but manages to force his mouth to say, "Of course."

"Okay." Gregory replies, and a surge of worry shoots through his chest when Gregory sounds like he might cry. He takes a breath on the other end, then, "Please hurry."

After that, Evan only lingers enough to respond with a short confirmation and goodbye before hanging up the phone. It takes him record time to shoot out of bed, sling on some shoes, and get down the street a few houses to Gregory's own.

His mind had played multiple awful scenarios of what terrible thing could have happened the entire time, but his worry does not ebb when he makes it to the porch and knocks on the door to a teary eyed Gregory.

Evan's immediately herded inside. Freddy has his phone in his hand pressed up against his ear, and he's pacing around the room. Aunt Chica and Aunt Roxy sit in the living room. Bonnie is sat in a dragged-over dining chair by Freddy and frowning.

It's dead silent in the house; even the TV and seemingly endless energy flowing through and causing bustling noise is snuffed out to nothing. Evan watches as everyone sits completely seriously and quiet, hands held in their lap or thrumming against something.

Impatience, is what Evan first thinks of. They're waiting for something. News, maybe? Freddy is on the phone. It's so silent you could hear a pin drop. Or somebody else's phone vibrate.

Evan's dread and anxiety only get worse when Gregory shuts the door behind him and tugs on him a bit. Evan follows without struggle, thousands of words and questions on his tongue when Gregory leads him to one of the unoccupied seats in the living room; a loveseat.

He sits down with him, and Gregory's face is scrunched up in barely restrained worry. Evan watches his friend, who's been an anchor for himself for so long, tremble and hunch in on himself. "Gregory?"

Gregory's eyes dart to him, and Evan leans down, hunching forward with his elbows rested on his thighs like theyre their own personal bubble. Evan's own brows furrow, and he feels the familiar thickness in his throat just at watching his friend be upset.

Evan grabs at his hand, squeezing it tight and lacing their fingers together. "I'm really worried, Gregory... please tell me whats wrong." Evan pleads. "Please?"

Gregory nods unsurely after a moment, and Evan watches him swallow thickly before turning to him fully. "Dad got a call from the University of Oregon today."

Evan's brows raise, but he nods to keep going. The University of Oregon is the college Gregory's sister, Vanessa, had left home to go attend. Evan hasnt gotten the chance to meet her, yet. She's already been gone two years strong, with a seemingly bright future. Evan's heard Gregory and his family talk about her enough to know her talents.

Gregory's breath hitches, and Evan wraps his other hand around Gregory's, the one he already has ahold of. He sandwiches it in-between his own and hopes it's enough comfort.

"Somebody called us and told us Vanessa got into a car crash today. On campus."

It's like a bucket of ice water is poured on Evan's head. His feet go cold, and his eyes widen to saucers. Fear shoots like an arrow through his stomach. When he stops reeling from the news, he watches Gregory begin to shake and lose the carefully gathered composure he'd put up since Evan arrived.

"They said..." Gregory's brows are furrowed so much it looks like it hurts. Theres a clench in his jaw and a wetness to his eyes Evan isnt used to. "They said she's already been taken to the hospital and is in surgery." He frowns, and theres a twist in his lip that Evan is so familiar with. "They... a-all we can do is wait. They told us they'd let us know any updates."

The house is thrown back into such jarring silence after Gregory stops talking that Evan's ears start ringing. Which makes it clear as day when Gregory's breath turns harsh beside him.

Evan tears his eyes away from the floor and ignores the twisting feeling in his chest to look at his friend. He has his face buried in the hand that isnt held by Evan and is shaking in a way where you can tell theyre trying so hard to keep it together. Gregory's angled away from him, but Evan can see the panic on his face even from where he can see.

Evan's breath hitches, and the thickness in his throat begins to turn into burning as he scootches closer to Gregory on the couch and sets a hand on his shoulder. He tugs a bit until Gregory gets the message and let's him wrap his arms around his middle and hold him close.

Gregory makes some sort of horrible, upsetting hitching noise that causes the dam to break for Evan, before he sort of flops against him and brings up his own arms to clutch at his T-Shirt. Gregory's head thumps against his shoulder, and it's one of the only times Evan really becomes aware of the height he has on his friend.

"Its okay..." Evan says into Gregory's shoulder, because it's all he knows to do in the moment. He glances around and sees that Gregory's family has shifted to the dining room, leaving them alone. Evan finally feels the tears slip from his eyes as he presses closer, hugging him like his life depends on it. "Its okay, Gregory. It'll be okay."

"It's--" Gregory says, and Evan can hear how much his voice shakes with barely contained tears. "Its not. I can't-- We can't even go see her. We can't go and wait for her to wake up, or anything... we just have to--" He cuts himself off, and Evan feels Gregory shake harshly against him.

"We just have to sit here." Gregory says, voice thick. "I dont know what to do, Evan. I don't know what to do."

And its only that sentence that causes Evan to grapple at what to do, if his friend can't. And all he can think about is how himself would react if it were Gregory getting hurt.

All he'd be able to do is cry, he realizes. He wouldnt be able to do anything. Just wait and be scared.

But that's what Gregory is getting at, isnt he? He can't do anything. That's the thing. Evan has known Gregory long enough to get him. To know, him. Evan knows that Gregory doesnt sit around and cry like Evan does. He prefers to get up and do something about whatevers wrong.

Hes a problem solver instead of waiting around. A fighter instead of a crier. No wonder hes so bent out of shape about this. To have a loved one in danger, and when you're so used to getting up and making a plan to fix a problem and are forced to sit in standby...

Evan eases them down against the cushion of the couch, not once untangling themselves from eachother. Gregory shakes, but he does not cry. "So what would you do if you could?"

The hair from Gregory's bangs brushes against Gregory's neck as he moves his head. "I'd... I don't know. I'd at least try to get to her." Gregory says, voice unbelievably quiet. "At least get to her. Then figure it out from there. Just so I'm not waiting on phone calls."

Evan nods against him, his chin scrunching up Gregory's hair. His tears have long since stopped falling, but he knows he has dry tracks on his cheeks. "You have a plan."

Gregory makes some sort of noise that would sound like a snort in any other circumstances. "I would if I could." Gregory replies, squeezing his arms a bit tighter. "But I cant" He sighs, shuddering and heavy. "I just have to wait."

Evan hums. "You're worried, and you're stressed." He makes the same noise Gregory just did. "I know how you feel... I really do. Maybe not your exact situation, but... I get what it's like to feel helpless." He says. "You know what I would do?"

Gregory hums this time, questionative. Evan rubs circles into his back. "I'd sit there and wait, and wish for it to different. And when it wouldnt be, I'd cry."

Gregorys head shifts against that crook between Evan's chin and chest, almost like hes trying to look him in the eye but the hug prevents him from being able.

"All I ever did was cry." Evan says when Gregory doesnt respond. "Its the only thing that I could do to cope."

"...So..." Gregory asks, and his voice is thick again. "You mean..."

"You're stressed." Evan answers. "You're stressed and you're worried. So... why dont you let it out?"

Evan, out of anyone, knows how valuable emotions can be. He didnt, once upon a time. When everyone would just tell him how annoying it is. How useless it is. How he's asking for it. How he should have toughened up by now. When instead of comfort, he'd receive ridicule and prodding.

That's changed. Ever since a certain someone entered his life. He doesn't think of his emotions, himself so little anymore. So worthless. So maybe that's why Gregory perks up ever so slightly in understanding.

And that's all it takes.

Gregory's trembling turns into shoulder shaking sobs like the snap of a finger. He cries, open and unadulterated, and Evan just hugs him close and rubs his back, offering reassurances like Gregory has done for him so many times.

His own eyes burn when his best friends sobs are heard so openly and he can feel every shudder of his body. Evan's chin scrunches, and the tears fall right along with Gregory as Evan hugs him close, tucking his face into his hair.

"Im--" Gregory cries. "I-Im just so worried about her."

"I know." Evan responds, his own voice breaking as he pets Gregory's hair. His shirt is damp with tears but he doesnt care. "Itll be okay. It'll all be okay."

They stay like that for a while, and Evan can tell Gregory needs it. He needs it. The worry he felt that morning doesnt ever really leave, and it stays ever-present as Evan watches his friend fall apart. They stay stuck together like magnets, eventually only shoulder to shoulder with linked hands on the loveseat, and none of Gregory's family try to peel them apart when they eventually wander back into the living room.

They stay in a state of constant agonizing limbo all day. At 8:00pm, Freddy calls it a night. Gregory protests immediately, but Aunt Roxy calms him down almost seamlessly and convinces him to go to bed.

Of course, Evan follows him. He cant imagine a world where he doesnt. The air mattress stays deflated in Gregory's closet as it has been most of the time nowadays. All Evan has to do is kick his shoes off since he left home in his pajamas anyway and they're wrapped around eachother, tucked in Gregory's bed under his comforter in the dark.

Gregory is silent all throughout the night, even though Evan knows he's awake. Evan just hopes that... he did the right thing. Something knows is that suppressing how you feel isnt good. It never works. No matter how much you want it to.

Gregory taught him that. He just wants to return the favor. Not because he owes Gregory, no. Gregory has long since hammered it into Evan's thick skull that he has nothing to pay him back for. That his kindness is not a deed to Evan, but rather that Evan himself deserves to be treated kindly.

Gregory does, too. Evan knows this with all his heart. Gregory is his best friend and has done more for him than anyone else ever has.

Evan... all Evan did was change. Change for the better. And hopefully he helped the most important person in his life with the things he learned. The things that person taught him.

He hugs Gregory's middle a little tighter, not daring to break the silence. Gregory needs time, but doesn't want to be alone. Evan understands. He does. He just hopes to convey what he truly feels through the one action.

Thank you. I'm here for you. I'll always be here. You're my best friend. I'm so glad you trust me. I trust you as well. So much.

Gregory himself wraps his arms tighter around Evan in turn, and Evan feels like the single movement lso has a deeper meaning he cant read.

They dont speak. They just lay in silence until eventually they fall asleep, stuck together like two puzzle pieces.

ao3 link

[quinnyundertow]

First time to a store in like 4 months and managed to walk 20 minutes before my legs gave out! A new record since my back surgery! I’m paying for it now pain wise but got something as a little reward at homegoods 🥳

[ask-runaan-anything]

What do you do to occupy yourself while healing from severe injuries? Asking for a friend.

Lujanne recommends entertainment in between light exercises (which means watching conjured illusions play pranks on each other before she marches me all over the caldera on her "easy breezy walks"). I've managed to talk her into reenacting some of the most important moments in the assassin histories, but she only agreed as long as she gets to put silly hats on everyone and depict Garlaath as a glow toad.

I suppose beggars cannot be choosers.

Rayla rarely leaves me alone, which I do not mind despite my preference for quiet solitude. She's more than earned my patience and my gratitude. She tells me of the wider world, and that makes me feel better, as if I'm still a part of things. She always takes care to tell me the good outcomes to her tales, as if I might worry over the past otherwise. I may have this tendency to brood somewhat, it is true. But although it is strange to have Rayla telling me bedtime stories instead of the other way around, I find myself very fond of it.

So my advice, though I am in the midst of it all myself, is to keep lightly busy and don't be alone too much.

I can still brood when no one is looking though

[etapereine]

according to frans maassen before saturday’s stage, they aren’t sure how long jonas will stay in the hospital - it sounds like he’s still in a lot of pain and so talking and eating has been difficult because of that

[rottmnt-brainrot-hours]

Prosthetic Eye Extra Features

This was inspired by CeruleanBound's fic mentioning laser vision. Raph would love it. After everything this kid's been through, he needs a break.

[definitelynotshouting]

grian just, wedged partially curled into somewhere not long enough for his true form body, with no range of motion cause his skin is multiple sizes too small now he's been actually eating, probably REALLY regretting his recent life choices such as "going into this tiny space" and "putting off dealing with shedding by staying in his humanoid form"

I havent committed to whether or not Grian actually sheds, but gods this is so 😭😭😭😭😭 THIS POOR GUY..... if i do decide to go with Watchers shedding their true form skins, he absolutely would put it off as much as possible. I imagine it would make him extra vulnerable, when Watchers are already pretty fragile to begin with, and that would be a fairly frightening situation to be in while surrounded by people you're convinced would absolutely take the chance to hurt you bc of the things youve done to them

[obeekris]

Some mutuals/followers may have noticed my lack of posting anything the past few days.

I have been in the hospital because I suffered a heart attack, probably late Sunday night.

I went in because I was having shortness of breath. Well that was because my lungs were filled with fluid from the heart attack.

I'm back home now. Got a long road of recovery ahead of me.

(I had two stents put in, for those who are familiar.)

[scuddle-bubble101]

Puuuuud!!! I missed you guys

(Sorry I haven’t interacted much ^_^;)

Oh hey Lumina-BHRYBGRHVRUVNRUVNRHJNVIJRNHBGHFHVGNFV

[freddyfreeman]

Absolute chef’s kiss the way Moto Hagio structures A Cruel God Reigns so that the second half is about Jeremy coming to terms with his trauma/understanding himself better through people in his life that have gone through similar things. Jeremy pulling Valentine away from the window is a repetition of Ian pulling Jeremy away from the cliff’s edge. When Marjorie attempts suicide, Jeremy is distraught because Marjorie “is a part of” himself. 

His empathy for his friends represents character growth. It’s a sign to the readers that, despite what he says, he is more than capable of love. 

[madwheelerz]

There are like characters that lose the things that make them 'them' in Stranger Things like Max loses her vision and might be crippled which means no more skateboarding.

[bardicc-inspo]

I love the way someone holds you when they truly care about you. How so much as an arm placement and a happy sigh can mean and show so much. The way they give you a tight hug and hold it just long enough to show they worry and care when you mention something that's worrying you about life. It's not suffocating and somehow it's just the right amount of pressure. Just. Caring.