Tw Vomit - Tumblr Posts
I want to throw up in the sshower (not in an ED way but because I’m extremely nauseous) bc that’s the easiest but my grandparents’ shower is old as fuuuck and I don’t want to clog it
Bros at this point I have been nauseous for like a week straight idk why but I need to not ☹️ I can’t keep popping zofran and dramamine and staying up till like 3am because I feel like I’m gonna vomit
I wish my parents would take me to urgent care bc it’s lowkey hard to swallow too now and idrk why but lowkey chat I’m kinda scared for my health 😔‼️
Idk I’m so sleepy and I just want to sleep but my tummy says nuh uh. Gonna sob
Hello! May request headcanons of Leona and Octavinelle students (separately) react to fem reader having Hanahaki Disease because of them, but she never tells them directly that they're the cause of it? Have a nice day!
Blood Stained Blooms
Ara? What do we have here now 🧐. I’m joking sjsjsj angst is my go to and you hit the spot. Tag some Lion and Octavinelle stans perhaps~?
⚠️ TW: Mentions of blood and vomiting.
When words are left unsaid...
Honestly, he never expected someone with so much spunk as you to just...reel over to the floor choking out bloody flora that could’ve easily been fitting with the greenery at the botanical garden he naps at.
And at the same time, Leona knew that...people with strong fronts have a tender foundation. What do you think he is? Well it wasn’t like he bothered hiding his shortcomings, it just so happened that he never gave a care for what people think of him.
That...would’ve been the usual. What is unusual however is you vomiting on the ground pathetically clutching your chest gasping for dear oxygen. Call it what you will, instinct, concern, desire, it didn’t matter to him what the hell he was truly feeling because the next thing he knew, he was already kneeling next to you brows furrowed whilst his calloused hand placed itself on your back.
He could feel it, with the way your shoulder blades tensed and relaxed at an unnatural rate under his touch while Blood continued to trickle down- The lion beastman was no fool either. Something to this degree isn’t at its early stages is it? He was no doctor but...he felt a tinge in his chest at the thought of someone just suddenly dropping dead. It was it because it’s you who knows…
The way you weakly smiled at him as you ushered him with a blood stained hand wasn’t something that would calm him down, it might’ve made him even more spurred. Gritting his teeth his ear twitched. Before standing up and grumbling to himself.
“Oi herbavour- what the hell is that-“ “A-ah..Leona..”
Leona is Leona, the lonely second prince that forgot his title whenever he was with you, but he didn’t knew how to handle this. How to handle the thought of you in a gruesome state- ah...he accidentally stepped on a flower….Ruggie would later be ordered to fetch whatever information he can manage to attain about the hellish illness.
...His mind is truly in uproar...
It was all too sudden, even for him. One minute you two were walking side by side in the corridors discussing a possible deal and the next thing he knew, eyes locked for a split second when he saw the sudden struck of immense pain on your expression before falling to your knees on the carpet and spewing out…
Azul, was truly ambushed with so many unwanted emotions, his usually calculative mind didn’t know where to focus on, your pain the blood spewing out or the cruelly beautiful flowers that landed on the stained carpet.
His sharp posture diminished shaking his head before finally making a move, a childish reaction but he took out his own cleanly pressed handkerchief and offering it to you. So what if it’d get stained with your blood? He’d rather clean out stains than to see you reeling on the ground!
Once your coughing dies down the octavinelle dorm leader would debate whether to ask or comfort. On one hand he knew that being double weighted by pain and interrogation isn’t good but on the other hand- he wanted to know what the hell you’ve been going through and he wanted to know ASAP.
Look the variety of clients he’s had to deal with never had a near death situation so he wasn’t sure if this was even within his prowess- and if he can’t help you then his vast network of connections should help, it has to help it has to. That’s what he’d be telling to himself unbeknownst to him that you’ve been weakly calling out to him- a-ah yes?
“Dear..you-“ “C’mon we’ll be late..I-I think we can grab some water on the way”
In the end he opted for the former, gently helping you back up on your feet and already concucting his next course of action, he’d later find out the cruel disease...he wasn’t the one having flowers bloom in his lungs so why did his chest wince…?
...You were far too precious for him to let go of...
It was- not part of his predictions, far from within his spectrum of deductions even.
Taking you out for a hike to admire and study the natural specimens Mother Nature has to offer in the land forms near Night Raven college was supposed to be...not bloody.
As much as of a sucker the Vice dorm leader is for the unexpected. This particular instance did not please him in the slightest. He grew and went about keeping his true feelings under an eerily serene exterior, this situation wasn’t an exception.
But he had to wonder wether his forced calmness helped you or made it worse, the way your eyes met his heterochromatic gaze just- the way the pain doubled in your gaze when you saw an eerily calm ocean in his eyes was what you recieved but why does it hurt even more..why does it feel like he doesn’t care when he-
You didn’t had time to even complain about something seemingly insignificant as that- the flowers that fell from your mouth along with spurts of blood like a crimson waterfall was taking up you train of thought. You need air- oxygen was taken for granted huh...like how the calmer eel twin took you for granted.
“J-jade...don’t think much about it..” “...as you wish..”
Honestly, just like how he handles other dire situations, he’ll calmly handle you to the bare minimum- but that isnt to say he isn’t worried, because he is...more than he’d like to admit. He’s seen how cruel life can be but when it comes to you...he never actually considered it. So expect him to frequent the library more rather than taking hikes. Because just like how he handles other situations...it’s better to find the source, and when he does...
...He’ll be even more diligent, unbeknownst to you...
Under the bleachers- hey...is that- Koebi-chan did you spill some juice? Ehehe lemme grab you an extra shir-...that smell...
What’s that in your mouth? He thought you were just snacking on something with strawberry jam but that...land dwellers don’t usually eat flowers with jam now do they? Poor Floyd...denial off the bat. But his body already began to move on its own, taking long strides towards your shuddering form as he grasped your shoulders to steady you.
He gulped down whatever lump hitched in his throat only for nothing to come out, for once floyd actually took the time to observe. The other always told him he was too reckless, he never cared since it adds to the thrill but- shrimpy choking out fully bloomed floranstained crimson isn’t thrilling at all. He doesn’t like this he doesn’t think this is fun- get youre pranking him right?..right?
What would the others do- no he doesn’t have time to think like the others he’s the only one with you now- he should carry you to the infirmary ye that’s good, good job floyd just slowly carry them and- he ran faster than for any errand he’s had to do. The infirmary was his only destination. Wether others stared at his rare expression of seriousness or the writhing person in his arms. It didn’t matter, those useless guppies don’t matter.
He demanded you to be treated, without even thinking wether whatever made shrimpy like this can even be cured in the first place. How would he even know? He’d know when the staff informs him, when they inform him how they can only keep the symptoms at bay but not fully cure the illness. This pest of a decease was making his shrimpy suffer and you’re telling him no one can do anything about it? WHAT TYPE OF A DAMNED DECEASE IS THIS-
“This ain’t fair! What the hell is-“ “F..Floyd hey...it alright.”
Suffice it to say he doesn’t take the news well, this was such an annoying thing to have, all for love? Who the hell wouldn’t love shrimpy!? Shrimpy is shrimpy and they are fun! Goodness Floyd...he only calms down when the teen in the infirmary bed ushers him close with a shaky hand...
...He despises the situation...
I just want her to be happy :(
I used this for a school project a few months ago & I got a 33/30 on it, so I’m gonna post it here cause why not. This draft is unedited but I lack the patience to edit it atm so I’m just gonna post it anyway :]
(TW: Death, Violence, Blood, swearing, partial nudity (nonsexual), vomiting, amputation, & if there’s any I’m missing please let me know!)
The sun beamed through the stained glass windows of Jacaranda castle, painting a rainbow of colors over the bloodsoaked carpet. Below the shining glass stood a single knight, unfazed by the carnage he’d ensued. Silently, he stepped over the corpses of the former king and queen of The Empire of Jacaranda, and walked to the open doors. A fellow knight walked into the room, a smile blooming on her scarred face.
“Sir Nathaniel, I take it there wasn’t any trouble with those tyrants?” She asked, placing a hand on his armored shoulder. Nathan chuckled softly, sheathing his sword back into its scabbard. He turned to face her with a small yet proud grin on his face before sidestepping to reveal the corpses. She nodded to him in response. “King Elias will be pleased to hear the developments of our Order.”
“Thank you, commander. Though I do believe you will be taking the credit, as per usual.” He joked, his smile turning teasing. Amanda huffed, swatting his shoulder, though there wasn’t any force behind it. “I take it Micheal is with Joshua?” He asked, opening the door for his commander.
“Correct, they’re in the west wing at the moment. Though I have a feeling Joshua is injured, as per usual.” She blazed, annoyance heavy in her tone. Nathan snorted, already picturing his unofficial brother limping back with his usual goofy yet sheepish grin.
They both continued to walk down the empty hallway, Amanda’s voice echoing due to the tall ceilings that were present throughout the castle. It’s said that the height was to quickly hear the echoes of approaching enemy soldiers. ‘Some help that was’, he mused. While they did hear them quicker, Nathan could hear them in turn. Though, something else was echoing in the empty room.
Crying. Crying of a child.
The previously light atmosphere turned tense as they both froze, hands on the hilts of their weapons. Slowly, Nathan walked to the noise, drawing his blade from its scabbard. He located the room and froze at what he saw. The room was virtually untouched by the mayhem, and the knight felt his curiosity grow as he walked deeper inside.
The room was simple, yet there was a large mural proudly depicting the purple blooms of the jacaranda tree. Natural light from the open windows served to light the painting with a halo. Just to the right of it sat a few cabinets, all made of walnut wood. A small cow stuffed animal caught his attention. Why would they need these if they never had a child? Last he checked they had chosen not to have any blood heirs, but then why would they need this?
The wails intensified, and he turned to face the cradle in the corner of the sunlit room. Dread settled in his gut, but he ignored it in favor of creeping closer. He peered inside and gasped at the sight. Inside sat a small screaming child that clutched the smallest blanket Nathan had ever seen. The word “Fern” sat carved above her, and the knight felt his heart stop. They had a child. They had an heir, and therefore he would be ordered to kill her.
Yet as she peered through large, reddened doe eyes, he knew that he couldn’t kill her. Fern reached out to him, her cries transferring to small sniffles, and made little grabby hands. Nathan cooed internally, but refrained from picking her up. He couldn’t get attached, not when it was likely that she would join the former king and queen, yet the thought nauseated him.
“Nathaniel? Is everything alright?” Amanda asked, peering inside. Nathan hummed, not taking his eyes off of the cradle. The elder knight joined him, ignoring the furnishings of the room in favor of joining him. A small gasp left her as she did, and he could only turn to her, his words failing him. “What.. how…?” She whispered, hands clenching the edge of the wood in a white-knuckled grip.
“You know I'm unable to do it.” He responded. She snapped her head to him, brown eyes wide. His own didn’t meet her gaze, only looking down at the shaggy carpet below. Her mouth opened to respond, but no words came out. “I cannot go against what I've been taught all my life.” Amanda only stared, her shoulders slumping from its trained posture.
“You will get charged for insubordination.” The ravenette argued weakly. She sighed, turning away from him to gather supplies into her rucksack. Before he could question it, she had already shoved it into his arms. “Nathan, if there's one thing you are, it's a stubborn bastard. So if you’re going to do this, then go. I can’t guarantee your success, but you’ll find a way.”
Nathan stood there, his eyes wide. Amanda wanted him to do what he thought was right. Without thinking he threw the bag to the side and hugged her tightly. She didn’t say anything at first, only returning the gesture with the same ferocity. As they parted, he could see tears running down her golden brown skin. “Good luck, Sir Nathaniel.”
He nodded, gathering the rucksack in his arms and onto his back. With shaking hands he held Fern in his grasp, pressing her close to her chest so as to not let her see the carnage of war. Though he hesitated, looking back before grabbing the cow plushie he had seen earlier.
With all these in hand, he left the room. His frantic steps echoed in the tall hallways. Fern began to cry once more. Nathan cursed under his breath, trying to shush her as he ran. To his growing horror, he saw knights of his own order striding down the other end of the halls. They noticed him, and instantly raised their weapons.
“Halt! Who goes there?” The first knight ordered, stepping forward from the crowd. He didn't respond, only freezing on the spot. He inhaled, before attempting to dash pass them. They all jumped at his sudden movement, but began firing anyway. Nathan's vision tunneled, only focusing on escaping the castle and protecting the child in his arms. Pain bloomed in his side, but he tried to ignore it as the stairs entered his vision.
He was thankful for the bloodthirstiness of his acquaintances, for it made the descent and escape so much quicker without the gaggle of servants inside. The growls of his former partners went unnoticed, but that proved to be a flaw when he also failed to notice the other knights blocking the hall.
“Shit…” He cursed, facing the armed soldiers with a slightly panicked expression. Fern took that moment to sob into his chest, and he did his best to shush her. Nathan scanned the faces of his attackers, but paused at one. There, square in the front of the line, was Joshua, his eyes wide and brows furrowed. The brown haired man had to hide the sting of guilt that pinched in his chest.
“Nathan… what the fuck man?” He growled, the betrayal in his gaze, swirling into rage. He drew his sword, the blood still dripping from the altercation. Nathan took a step back, his grip on Fern tightening ever so slightly. This didn’t deter the man, who only continued his enraged trudging. “You're gonna tell me that you side with those asshats? After everything?!” The blonde cried, swinging his sword forward. Nathan doged, but the flaring pain in his side began to throb at the exertion. With an unsteady inhale, he maneuvered Fern into one arm and unsheathed his blade in the other.
The sound of their sabres clashing sent the other knights into action, fighting to get a chance at attacking the traitor. Nathan only focused on ensuring Ferns safety. Joshua still fought with vigor, his swings unhinged and crazed. But his swings were sloppy, leaving a wide opening in the chaos for him to escape. In a burst of adrenaline, he leaped forward and ran as fast as he could, despite the bleeding wounds at his side.
When the corridors turned to the outdoors, he didn’t know. The only thing repeating in his head was ‘run’, and he followed it as though his life depended on it. In a way, it kind of did. Only when the sun was setting did he realize where he was. The edge of the capital loomed, its sandstone walls towering over him. The gates were still opened from the raid, but the worry of guards still lingered like a phantom pain.
Regardless of his worry, he trekked through into the unknown that unnerved him to his core. The outside was beautiful, with large fields of wildflowers that buzzed with warmth. But Nathan couldn’t let himself feel the comforts, for reality began to set in. He was a wanted man. All he had was a bag of supplies, his armor, and a child in his arms. The aches in his torso screamed at the sudden, frantic running to find somewhere to camp, and Fern whimpered quietly..
“It’s okay, it's okay..” He whispered, though he couldn’t bring himself to believe it himself. Dread settled heavily in his gut as the shining sun fell below the looming mountains. Despite today’s misgivings, it appeared that luck was on his side. A small village was in the distance, and memories of his own village echoed came to mind. The thought of finding somewhere to rest, perhaps even a meal or an area to decompress urged him forward.
The opening path was blocked by large tapestries, and he slowed at the sight of them. Banners for the queen and king. The now dead king and queen. Nathan’s heart sunk deeply. They were loyal to Jacaranda, and he was wearing the bloodstained armor of their enemy. The brunette swallowed past the lump in his throat, and tried to ignore his aching body and small pangs of hunger that refused to go away. Fern nuzzled into his arms, her body too tired to continue crying, and he winced internally.
“I’m sorry kid, I promise I’ll make it up to you..” He whispered, his own eyes becoming wet. Guilt served as something to ignore the surroundings around him. When his mind refocused, he was in the woods, and the night was now fully set in. The light and warmth of the village had now vanished, leaving him in the dark, chilly marshes of the forest. Though, that was likely a good thing. No light meant nobody found where he was.
Tiredly, he stumbled through the dense foliage. Ideally, he would have sat down and rested, but the paranoia of being found kept him wide awake. The wind bellowed, and he shivered. Fern shared the same sentiment, curling up further in the thin fabric bundled around her. Nathan frowned, and fished another blanket out of the rucksack. It was slightly dirtied with his bloodstained hands, but at least she was warm. Her shivering stopped, and she seemed to fall into a deeper sleep than before.
The night continued to stretch, and he let out a weary exhale. His breath puffed out into a white smoke. The knight continued, trudging through the marsh. The creatures of the woods noticed him, and observed from the towering shadows. He did not notice. High above, the mountains soared, their towering height dominating anything that attempted to cross. Nathan stared, wonder and awe briefly masking the exhaustion.
His moment of starstruck was demolished as the distant howl of wolves caught his attention. Fuck. He tried to tip toe, but the howling became louder, and he tossed the idea. Now sprinting, the brunette weaved through the trees, and Fern was jostled awake by the action. Perhaps luck had shined down on him as a yawning cave opening entered his vision. It wasn’t the most welcoming sight to some, but Nathan was desperate. Sweat trickled down his forehead.
The cool, dark interior was welcoming to him, but the prickling on his skin did nothing to calm his nerves. Something was in there with him. He inhaled a shaky breath, slightly squeezing Fern in a botched attempt at comfort. She only whimpered, staring at him with big, forestry eyes that were reddened with tears. He brought her close to his chest with a bearlike hug that would hopefully make her feel safe.
Nathan looked up from the bundle in his arms. The inside of the cave was nothing special, though the stalactites and stalagmites reminded him of teeth, slowly closing in on its prey. The thought did little to comfort him. The steady drip of water echoed, like a promise that the rocky enclosure would stretch deeper. Though, one of the larger stones hid in the midnight shadows, and it looked as though it were spiked. In fact, if he looked closer, he could see strange, scaly groves, similar to the really dark snake. They shifted, and Nathan had to bite back a scream.
The rock moved, the rock fucking moved. He briefly caught the sight of amethyst eyes in the darkness, their gaze predatory. The brunette paled as the eyes rose and stepped closer into the moonlight. A scaly, horned creature stomped forward, horns curling around their spiked face, which was dotted with tiny white dots, similar to a night sky at midnight.
“Do you have no self preservation, human? Does the thought of challenge drive you to the point of idiocracy? You know what happens to imbecilic knights who dare to rival me..” She bellowed, puffs of smoky air leaving her lips. Fern tensed at the booming voice, and Nathan knew that his escape, his attempt at saving Fern, was now in vain. Without thinking, he spoke.
“Please,” He begged, his voice cracking slightly. The dragon paused at the sound of his meek voice. “I won't be able to survive this either way, but please don't hurt her.” He whispered, tears streaming down his face and into his beard. He knew his efforts were in vain, but he wanted a concrete answer to whether or not she would survive. The dragon paused, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“Who do you mean, ‘Her’?” She questioned. Nathan presented Fern, who looked tiredly at the massive reptile. The dragon’s eyes widened, a tiny gasp leaving her. Her gaze flicked back and forth, a silent question being asked. She stepped back slightly, reassessing him. He felt woozy on his feet, and looked down at his side. Blood steadily flowed from his wound, and he winced. Stars that he previously ignored now danced in his vision and he tried to shake them away. That only served to make his head spin continually.
“Please just consider it..” he mumbled. His legs fell beneath him, and he tried to shield Fern from the inevitable contact with the ground. Though, he didn’t land on the cool stone, but a warm, scaly hand. Nathan hummed quietly, basking in the warmth as his strength left him. Maybe this was it. He didn’t mind though, he was warm and though it hurt to move, he relaxed. His thoughts drifted to mere concepts, and he fell under.
He woke up. He woke up. Nathan gasped quietly, trying to shoot up before being stopped by a gentle, yet firm hand that kept him in place. His vision swam slightly, but he could make out the warm wood of the ceiling. Someone stood above him, though exact shapes were muddled. His heart was beating loudly in his ears.
“Where's Fern?” He rasped, voice shaking. The figure paused, but didn’t remove their hand. Unfamiliar voices hung above his head, speaking in an accent he couldn’t decipher. The figure holding him down pressed a cool glass bottle to his lips. He swallowed, the unknown liquid inside was sweet and tasted faintly of spearmint. It was refreshing and soothed his achingly dry throat. Blinking, he cleared his vision and flinched at the face that stared at him.
“There we are, how you feeling?” They asked, their voice distinctly scottish. He made a so-so motion, not trusting his voice. The owner of the voice was a massive beast like creature with curling horns, framing their face. Long greyish blonde hair flowed down their back, and he paused. Where there should be legs, sat a torso. A horse torso.
“Wha..?” He began. The blonde raised a questioning eyebrow, challenging him to ask. He didn’t. The centaur’s eyes flicked down to the bandages on his chest, and it was then that Nathan realized his current lack of shirt. His cheeks flushed in embarrassment, and he turned away. The healer snorted at the action.
“As much as you're a nice looking fella, I don’t trust folks like you.” They said, a smirk fading from their lips. Nathan nodded, looking back to them. “I’m Jarrowyn by the way.” The centaur, Jarrowyn, added. The silence stretched as they checked his bandages, so he studied the room around him. He was no longer in the cave, or the place where he’d fallen unconscious. Cool damp rocks were replaced with warm brick walls and spruce floors. A fire roared in the hearth, and he was thankful for the difference in temperature. The room itself was massive compared to him, and Nathan wondered what kind of person would be to scale.
A loud rumble echoed through the silence, and Nathan winced. Jarrowyn’s eyes darted down to his stomach, and snorted. They stood, stretching their lanky horse legs. “I’ll see to it that you get something to eat, lest you go and challenge Draho to a roaring contest.” They joked, waltzing out the room with a few clops of their hooves. The brunette sighed, looking back to the ceiling.
Who the hell was Draho? He thought, resting a hand on his abdomen. Questions lingered and bounced in his head, like a fly caught in a glass cup. Fern also entered his thoughts, and he winced internally. He made an oath to protect her, yet here he is causing more problems than solutions. Why couldn’t things just work out for once?
The dragon from earlier entered, looking like a queen among peasants. She spotted him on the ground, staring at her from the other side of the room. She strode over, her gait steady and gaze powerful. Her midnight scales reflected the embers of the fire. Now that she was near the light of the flames, he noticed her massive shimmering wings which were folded in her back. They glimmered like the nebulas in the skies at night.
“So, I take it Jarrowyn has been treating you well?” She questioned. Nathan sat up, ignoring the heavy ache in his side. The dragon sat down next to him, and he realized that she was likely the owner of wherever he was. Everything around her was fit for her to use, and radiated the same power she held. She turned to face him, craning her neck to become eye level. “Well?”
“I- Yeah.” He mumbled, voice soft and raspy. She nodded, facing the flames once more. “Wait. Where's Fern?” He asked. The dragon tilted her head, a silent question. “The baby?” He added, a little bead of fear growing inside. She was silent for a moment, pressing a large reptilian hand to her chin in thought.
“The little crier?” She questioned. He nodded. A small smile crept across her face, shiny white teeth glistening. Once more Nathan was reminded of her power, and he shivered slightly. “The young one- Fern was it?- is with Martinez. The man definitely has his work cut out for him. I don’t think he minds though. You can likely see her again when your injuries aren’t so dire.” She inquired. Nathan felt the fear in his chest recede, and turned back to the hearth. They sat in silence, though it was less tense than in the beginning. “What's your story, young one?” She asked. Nathan sputtered at the name, considering that he was well into his thirties, but the dragon didn’t falter.
He huffed, but recounted his tale, voice shaking ever so slightly. She sat still, her face portraying any emotion. As soon as he finished, she moved once more. A parchment was pulled from beneath her wing, acting as a pseudo pocket. The dragon presented it in her palm, and with hesitancy, he took it. It was fresh, and rolled up with a brown twine keeping the contents hidden. Slowly, Nathan removed the twine and unraveled the paper. His eyes widened, and his skin paled deeply.
On the cover was a drawing of him. A large “WANTED, DEAD OR ALIVE” stood boldly below. A sick feeling came over Nathan, and he swallowed back bile. “Your story checks out, Nathaniel.” She commented, her voice containing little emotion. He dropped the parchment, his hands quivering. Fuck, why had he come here? She was going to throw both he and Fern out to fend for themselves- “Calm, young one.” She ordered.
He froze, and slowly turned to face her. “I mean no harm, I was simply testing your honesty. By your reaction, I take it that your story is true.” She stated. He blinked, his tense posture not letting up. She slowly rose from her spot against him, stretching her scaly black wings. Nathan said nothing, fearing his voice may tremble too much for her to understand. “You will be safe here, but the safety will not last long. If you wish to stay here and gain our protection, you must gain the trust of my people. My name is Queen Drahoslava, and if you dare put the lives of the Other Side in jeopardy, then you will know the consequences.” She threatened, turning away from him.
Nathan felt his stomach churn sickly at the speech. He released a shaky breath and let himself collapse back onto the pile of furs he’d been placed on. He dragged a hand through his brunette hair, tugging lightly to keep himself grounded. Great. He and Fern were together in a world that wasn’t their own, and they had made more enemies than allies. Well, he had, if unintentionally. Plus he couldn’t fight with the still healing wound on his torso.
“Well, that went well.” Jarrowyn commented. Nathan groaned internally. Despite that he’d only been awake for an hour or so, he felt exhausted. It didn’t help that he wasn’t great at talking, for that was reserved for Joshua. Tiredly, he looked up from his spot on the floor. The centaur towered above him, a ceramic bowl in their hands. “Not talking, eh? I don’t blame you, Draho can be scary when she wants to be.” They remarked, setting the bowl near his head.
The scent of the contents- soup or stew by the looks of it- made his mouth water and stomach growl. Nathan sat up again, this time much less difficult with the promise of food. It sat delicately, with multi coloured carrots and chunks of beef glistened, and they were surrounded by what smelled like a hearty broth. Peas floated in the stew, and he happily discovered mashed potatoes hiding below the chunks.
The first bite could only be described as heavenly compared to what he’d eaten while he was with the king. Instead of slightly burnt deer and the occasional pheasant, there were spices and slight hints of boursin in the potatoes, plus evenly cooked meat and vegetables. He did his best to savor each bite, for he knew the consequences of eating too fast. Though, the bowl was empty soon enough and there was a warm fullness in his belly that hadn’t been there before.
Jarrowyn chuckled at the knight's enthusiasm, but Nathan didn’t notice. Instead he basked in the relaxing feeling of contempt. “I’ll leave you to rest a bit more, alright?” He hummed in agreement. Soon he was alone once more, and sleepiness clung to him like glue. The brunette drifted to sleep, and tried his best not to worry about the outcome of the next day and what it brought.
Consciousness arrived in stages as opposed to his usual quick alertness. It was like a sunrise, slow yet gaining brightness as time went on. Nathan sat up slowly, enjoying the pop or his stiff joints. His side still ached, but not as much, like a dull throb compared to a stabbing pain he felt earlier. Good. From his own experience, he knew that was usually a sign of healing. He stretched, letting the annoying back pains of age fade away.
“Woah.. are you a human?” A young voice asked. The brunette turned to them, and flinched at the uncomfortably close face of a creature. Said creature had a bat-like face, though their brown eyes were much larger than the animal. Nathan blinked, still comprehending the question. They tilted their head, big ears flopping sideways.
“I- Yes?” He stuttered, finally remembering the question. The bat-person visibly brightened, a happy little smile showing off their tiny fangs. The knight smiled softly, and he was glad for the positive reaction. Constant distrust and suspicion do get old after all.
“So do you sacrifice your young to your lords? Or do you drink-”
“Jesse! Leave the poor lad alone.” Jesse frowned as his father interrupted his questions. Though, strangely, Jesse looked nothing like his father. Instead, his father was like Jarrowyn, but instead had the torso of a snake. Strangely, his black hair was shaved in an undercut style that reminded him of Joshua. A brown sling was slung across his chest, covering the toga-style shirt he wore. Slowly, he slithered down to Nathan's level “Sorry about that, he’s a little too curious for his good, arentcha?” He joked, mussing up the bats fur, much to his dismay.
Jesse squawked loudly, and Nathan couldn’t help but chuckle at their antics. The two mythical creatures began playfully wrestling on the ground, an occasional cry of laughter from the younger and shout from his dad. Eventually, they focused back on him, both slightly out of breath from the ordeal.
“Well, ” Nathan began, gesturing for him to say his name.
“Martinez.” he added, taking his outstretched hand.
“Well Martinez, I take you here to explain what's going on today?'' The brunette asked. Jesse nodded and whispered something in his ear. The ravenette perked up, turning the sling around to reveal Fern, who peeked innocently from the edge. She visibly brightened when her green eyes met Nathans, and the knight felt his heart melt at the action. A small toy was set in her mouth, which she bit on with joy.
“She’s a bit of a trouble maker, that's for damn sure.” Martinez joked, poking Fern in the belly, who squealed in delight. Out of nowhere, Nathan felt a sense of melancholy at the interaction. His mission was complete, and Fern was somewhere safe. By the looks of it, she was in good hands that would raise her better than he ever could. “You good, knighty?” Martinez asked, dragging the man out of his thoughts. He nodded, though he felt a sense of heaviness in his chest.
The snake didn’t look entirely convinced, but ignored it. “Queen Drahoslava is gonna send down some cleaner clothes for you to wear. I’m not sure what's gonna happen beyond that, though I was told to bring Fern, maybe for a bonding thing or something.” He rambled, shifting his hold on the human in his arms. Jesse pouted, crossing their arms/wings(?).
“But I wanna spend time with the humannnnnn.” He whined. The ravenette huffed, giving a half-hearted glare at the boy. Martinez pinched the back of his neck and picked him up, similar to a kitten being held by their mother.
“I know you do, but we have explicit orders to go in and out, alright? If you want you can try to convince Draho.” Martinez sighed. Jesse pouted again, this time turning away from his father. The ravenette huffed, but turned back to Nathan. “I’ll leave you to it. When you get the chance you can help me with this rascal.” He joked, using his free hand to pat Fern's head. Nathan nodded, and Martinez smiled. Slowly, he rose from his coiled spot on the ground. The trio left, but Jesse popped in one more to give a little wave to him.
For some reason, that warmed his heart more than anything.
Nathan stood, the furs falling from his lap and onto the spruce floors. His chest was bare, but he thankfully still had trousers. He doubted that Jarrowyn or Draho or whoever would’ve been comfortable if he didn’t have them. He couldn’t blame them. The brunette shivered at the thought.
A glimmer caught his eye. In the corner, a covered…thing sat. He trudged over, and removed the fabric. He was met with tired gray-ish blue irises that looked haunted. Nathan recoiled, a sense of horror washing over him. His normally tan skin was pale from blood loss, and deep bags sat under his eyes. Mud smudged his cheeks and beard, along with dried blood that wasn’t his own. He couldn’t recognize himself. He swallowed, turning away.
A small stack of clothes sat near the nest of furs, and the click of the door was the only indication someone was there. He sighed, dragging a hand down his face. I’m not ready for the bullshit today’s gonna offer, am I? He mused, changing into the garments he was offered. A loose shirt, similar to what Micheal used to wear when he was a page. He smiled bitterly, shaking his head. The pants were simple and flexible, with a few pockets for safe keeping. He kept his own boots, considering their lack of armor.
Nathan looked back at himself in the mirror, but turned back and walked to the doorway. The halls were ornately carved, but there was a sense of relaxation that tinged the air. It was dissimilar to the Jacaranda castle, which only reeked of fear and intimidation. The halls looked to be fit for Drahoslava to walk, even when her neck was held high. Sconces were built into the walls, old candles dripping off them.
Despite the lack of windows, Nathan didn’t feel trapped. Perhaps it was silly, but since he was younger he needed to have confirmation that he was in a safe place. He felt none of this whilst he was under King Elias, but he chose to persist anyway. The stone floors echoed with every step he took. For once, he felt small, powerless even, against the tides that fate had sent.
Few servants walked down the halls alongside him, either acting with indifference or subtly sneering in his way. One had growled at him, and he hunched in on himself. Mindlessly, he walked until he met up with a familiar centaur.
The blonde turned, and raised an eyebrow. “Your presence is required with the queen.” They ordered, grasping his arm and pulling him along. “I don’t know what you did, but it’s important.” Nathan gulped at that, worst case scenarios flashing through his head. The massive spruce doors towered over his head, and he entered with a shuddering breath.
Drahoslava loomed over a large map, her scaly tail darting back and forth in frustration. He slowly stepped forward, observing the map carefully. He gasped softly, it was a map of Jacaranda, one similar to the one he’d used with Amanda. The dragon flicked her eyes to him, and quietly gestured to the seat next to her. What he failed to notice earlier was the entourage surrounding the table. Each stared at him with wide, slightly horrified eyes.
The woman next to him was some kind of avian if the massive gray wings and tail were anything to go by. She was a large bird, similar to that of a dove, if doves also walked on two feet and wore armor. She watched him warily, her posture hunched and a wing set on a concealed weapon. Those sitting around the table had similar reactions to her, which did nothing to offset the discomfort plaguing him. It seemed like the queen herself noticed the unease radiating from everyone, and huffed.
She raised her head and stared at the scene in front of her, and she growled deeply. “Oh for fucks sake,” She raised a large clawed hand and smashed it down on the table. They all flinched, and turned to the now pissed off dragon. “Listen, I get that you guys carry prejudice from the beginning, but we have much more pressing matters than a grudge.” A fae of some kind scoffed, and stood.
“Are you kidding? We're in this damn problem because of him. I say we just throw him out to the wolves with the young one.” Nathan flinched at that, but didn’t protest the fae’s words. It seemed that most people around the table agreed, nodding their heads and glaring at him. Dread sat heavily in his stomach, and he feared that his efforts to save Fern were going to become nothing more than a waste of time. He turned to Drahoslava. Her tail flicked back and forth again, though this time he noticed the rage broiling beneath the facade of cool indifference.
“He is searching for safety just as you all did when you found the Other Side-”
“Yeah and? Need I remind you that your mate died by human hands?” Draho flinched, and began to tremble. “If anything, he’s probably slaughter us just like him-”
“Don’t you dare speak of him.” She whispered, clenching her claws. “I know what happened, but I will not let you speak of matters you don’t entirely understand. For now you will listen to me.” The room was filled with a stuffy heat, a threat of how close to snapping Drahoslava really was. Nobody spoke, and the ignorant fae from earlier sat down. Nathan felt sweat drip from his forehead and soak the tunic he wore.
Eventually, the room cooled, but everyone was significantly quieter. The queen gained her composure once more. “The Jacaranda Empire was ended by King Elias, Nathaniel's former employer,” She began, ignoring the small gasps of those around her. “During the raid, he discovered the heir to the throne, Fern. He was told to kill her, but he ultimately refused. He is now a wanted man, so he ran here as a result.” Wary glances were thrown in his direction, and Nathan shrunk. “One of the dogs has led them to one of the entrances. I’m afraid they know he’s here and he is resurrecting his grandfather's plan.”
Nathan’s head darted back to Drahoslava, whose gaze was back at the map. “What do you mean?” He asked. The dove-person from earlier stood, her face somber.
“We were not always split from one world to the next. When the king began to take over our land, we protested. But they were far too powerful for us. The king slaughtered us, and pillaged our culture, wiping us off the map. We fled, and Queen Drahoslava gave us shelter. A world to rebuild and evolve. The former king still relented, and fought to enter the Other Side. He didn’t succeed, but genocided those who didn’t make it. Drahoslava’s own love, Lord Umbris, died protecting young fledglings of his tribe. The queen is the last living dragon of her kind as a result.”
Horror, shame, disgust, all those awful emotions began to swirl in his head, leaving him to feel sickened. What was that truly who he’d worked for all this time? The grandson of a homicidal maniac? Nausea plagued his mind and he pressed one arm to his stomach, the other to his mouth as he ran from the table. Shouts were heard, but Nathan only focused on the bile rising in his throat. He shoved the heavy wooden doors open, and promptly emptied his stomach on the floors.
Someone rubbed his back, but he couldn’t tell through the haze of sickness. His side, which was previously feeling much better, now screamed with a broiling pain that thrummed through his veins. His legs wobbled beneath him, and he clutched the metal edges on the doors. Eventually, his empty retching ended, leaving him feeling both embarrassed and ashamed. The hand on his back was large, scaly even.
“There we are.” Drahoslava whispered, leading him back inside. “I’ll have a servant clean it up; I could also send one down to lead you back to your room if you wish.” Nathan shook his head, ignoring the dizziness that ensued afterwards. The dragon frowned, but didn’t comment. The other members of the room now looked at him with more curiosity instead of the spite from earlier. The queen snapped her claws, bringing everyone back to attention. She cleared her throat, and rose to address everyone. “Nathaniel worked under the king, as I’ve mentioned, so he likely knows how they’ll attack and what to expect.
Everyone slowly turned their heads to him, making him shrink on the spot. He coughed, “I might, but I’ll need to know who is the general leading the soldiers.” His voice was slightly rough from his… incident… but it needed to be said. One of the members pointed a talon at a small diorama figure coloured in black.
“It’s being led by Lord Josh, though Lady Amanda and Lord Clarence are also leading smaller groups.” The beast said, their voice gravelly and deep. Nathan hummed, stroking his beard in thought. Amanda would most likely act as defense while the other guy would probably work as offense. Honestly Clarence was a complete idiot, yet still managed to be as interesting as a bag of flour. It was a miracle he was even in the order, let alone leading his own group.
Joshua however, was the complete opposite. Experienced, top of his classes, yet spontaneous and wild. He would likely lead in with swords blazing and a bloody battle cry. It was his usual method of fighting.
“Well, what's the plan?” The queen asked, tapping her clawed foot impatiently. Nathan hummed, studying the landscape shown on the map.
“We’ll need your most unhinged warriors to guard to defend here,” he pointed to Joshua's group, “then a group of soldiers should attack Lady Amanda’s group. Clarence is a buffoon and will likely lead his team to death.” Other members of the room winced, but didn’t comment. The rest of the meeting flew by rather quickly. Battles were planned, lines were drawn, and it all landed together in a perfectly slotted puzzle.
It was thrilling to finally know what to do, if even a small amount. For the past few hours he’d been in the hands of others, which left him feeling rather exhausted. Sure, it likely would have been better than trying to not be crawling around, with blood loss and Fern in his arms. So, he skipped down the halls, plans and scenarios buzzing around his head.
The guest room was welcoming, and Nathan was surprised to see that the pile of furs from earlier was gone, and a clean bed was moved to the corner. The sheets were freshly washed, and a plaid blanket with a fuzzy fabric beneath sat innocently folded on top. It looked warm, inviting even. He sat on the bet, and changed into a shirt that didn’t reek of vomit and sweat.
Memories of his time in the order flashed in his head, accompanying his previous plans. Amanda teaches him how to fight whilst on a horseback, a drunk Joshua singing shanties with a poor fool who happened to get too close, acting as a wingman for Micheal to ask out and eventually marry Amanda. They were warm memories that truly made his heart ache to see him again. He would, though it would not be for the same jovial purposes as it had before.
Nathan rolled onto his side, staring at the wall. He was going to battle against those he’d considered family. Joshua wanted him dead. The blood of his almost brother would stain his hands if he succeeded, else he let the army attack members from the Other Side. The brunette dragged a hand down his face, and he attempted to ward away the grim thoughts. It worked, but only for a while.
Nathan eventually fell asleep, and thus started the cycle over the next few days. Wake up, converse with Martinez or Drahoslava, eat breakfast, visit Fern, train, receive a daily check-up from Jarrowyn, discuss battle plans with the leaders of the Other Side, train and debrief troops, eat dinner, and go to bed. It reminded him of his days working under King Elias, though now it wasn’t as suffocating. Plus, it was enjoyable to see Fern in all her squealing, giggling glory.
Though, the day of battle only loomed on the horizon, leaving Nathan to cherish these last few moments of his time with her. Such as now, when she was slowly falling asleep in his arms, a tiny hand holding onto his finger. He smiled softly, and allowed his shoulders to relax. She whispered a tiny, almost inaudible word under her breath.
“Papa…”
That word. That one word that made him freeze. He wanted to deny it, but what could he do? Refuse to be a father? He couldn’t do that to the kid, it would haunt him. But then again, how would he raise a child? He had no knowledge of kids, nor how to live a life that wasn’t steeped in bloodshed. He swallowed, slowly retracting his hand from her grasp. She didn’t seem fazed, and instead cuddled the cow plushie from the castle.
He trudged out of the room, & combed a hand through his matted hair. Martinez, who had graciously let him visit, seemed to notice his stressed demeanor, & gestured him to the dining room. It was a cottage style kitchen, with a classic potbelly stove that still had smoldering coals. A simple, yet sturdy wooden table sat in the middle, & a pale green tablecloth sat atop it.
“A copper for your thoughts?” Martinez asked, fishing out a kettle from the cupboards. Nathan hummed, and sat down on one of the chairs around the table. It was the only one that he could, considering that the others were too small for him or cut in ways that accommodated their inhuman attributes. “Hey, you alright there? You're zoning out.” The ravenette asked, hints of worry mixed into his tone.
A cup was passed to him, tea if he had to guess. He sighed quietly, & faced the other man. “She called me ‘papa’.” He mumbled. Martinez’s eyes widened, his eyebrows going high as well. “I’m afraid that I don’t know what to do..” He whispered the last part, ignoring the shame that burned in his cheeks. The snake-man softened, & placed a hand atop his own.
“Honestly? Nobody does. Even the most experienced veterans of parenting get lost. That's life though, confusing, idiotic life,” Martinez squeezed gently, “but nobody goes through life alone, do they? Whilst I was raising my eldest, I was confused, scared even. However, those around me taught me, aided me, through this messy world.” Nathan felt tears begin to build up in his eyes. “You aren’t alone, Nathaniel. Nobody is.” He finished. They sat in silence, but the snake slowly led the knight around the table & into his arms, hugging him close. Huh. Perhaps things wouldn’t be so bad, would they?
The sun broke the mask of night. The dawn of battle has come. Nathan donned his armor, though cleaned of its blood from the raid. The crest of the Other Side was carved onto his breastplate, stating his allegiance to the Drahoslava. His sword & shield were of the same fashion, but he didn’t protest the changes.
He walked in sync with Lady Neveah, the avian from earlier. Unlike everyone else he’d met so far, she wasn’t talkative. Nathan was thankful for this, as he was able to listen for anyone close. She listened as well, and halted the soldiers who walked behind her. She clicked her beak, & fired an arrow into the undergrowth. A distant howl of pain echoed through the forest, and knights jumped out of the trees. Both warriors tensed, snapping into position.
The knights of the Other Side ran into defensive positions. Clarence stepped out of the shadows, jumping his most intimidating pose…. aaaaaaaand he’s dead. One of Drahoslavas soldiers shot him in the head with an arrow. Nathan blinked, and sheathed his sword again. Clarence’s knights panicked, and ran when they realized their leader was now dead. The brunette wanted to go forward, but Neveah merely shook her head & continued onwards. Her knights followed in suit.
At last, the large field of wildflowers he’d escaped through peaked through the wall of trees. King Elias’s army stood proud and tall on the highest hill, Joshua watched the forests with disdain. Amanda stood at his side, though lines of worry and stress marred her face. Nathan felt guilt creep in at the thought of her going through the stress he’d caused. Neveah smacked him with her wing, focusing him back in.
Drahoslava stood strongly, rows of soldiers behind her. Some were centaurs, others were snake folk, or even fae. She was an intimidating figure to meet the eyes of, but Joshua stared ahead without fear.
“Where is he?” He demanded. The queen narrowed her eyes, and growled.
“He is not what's important, is he?” She retorted, small puffs of smoke leaving her mouth. Joshua snarled, unsheathing his sword.
“Just tell me where he is, savage.” He ordered, stepping forward. She flared her wings, and her scales glimmered in the sunlight. Neither party moved, but all it took was a singular arrow from one of the parties, and all hell broke loose.
Neveah leaped out of the underbrush, and Nathan followed suit. Joshua’s army seemed surprised at the display, but fought with vigor nonetheless. Very quickly did the brunette become desensitized to the slaughtering, but it was only when he heard the screech of his colleague did he turn.
She was on the ground, her left wing lying on the ground, slowly bleeding out. Her bow
lay abandoned as she clutched the stump with her other appendage. Joshua towered over her, his blade held high in an iron grip. He couldn’t see the blonde's face, but he knew that his face would be manic, as per usual. Nathan sprinted, ignoring the corpses around him.
“STOP!” He cried. Time seemed to freeze as Joshua turned. The wild gaze melted, if only a moment as their eyes met. But just as quickly as it left did it reappear. Only this time there was complete rage, betrayal, even some sadness mixed into the concoction of emotions that swirled in his brown eyes. He charged, and Nathan barely had enough time to block the blade. The two seemed to dance in an almost choreographed dance of battle, which ended abruptly with Joshua's blade set between Nathan’s ribs.
He sputtered, his grip on his sword going limp as he stared in horror. Blood dripped down his stomach and onto the ground. The other man saw his chance and threw him to the ground. There Nathan sat, confused, perhaps a bit scared even.
“This is what happens to traitors, Nathan. I trusted you, yet you betrayed me for a fucking child.” Joshua snarled, slamming his foot onto his chest. The brunette cried out in pain, tears beginning to flow down his cheeks. “You ran, you abandoned both Amanda and I for a baby you knew for five minutes.” Tears welled up in Joshua's eyes as well, streaking down his dirtied face. He wiped them away, and slowly sat down next to him.
Nathan coughed up the blood that was rapidly filling his mouth. Joshua scoffed, grabbing his former friend's chin in a crushing grip. “You were always so moved with emotion, always acting like the hero. Well guess what?” His grip tightened, “Hero’s dont fucking live.” Shadows crept on Nathan's vision, but so did flashes of his life. Fern, who may grow up without anyone. Drahoslava, who counted on him to protect the Other Side alongside all of the other leaders. Martinez, who saw the good in him. He came to the realization that he didn’t want to disappoint them. He wanted to live, if only to ensure the safety of the others safety.
With renewed adrenaline, he pushed himself off the bloody ground. His blade lay in the grass just a few inches from his hand. He inhaled deeply. Joshua gasped, but moved to take the sword, only to be kicked in the groin. The blonde choked, groaning loudly. The ruse was enough for him to grasp his sword once more. A slow quiet whisper was heard despite the chaos.
“I’m sorry…”
He slashed his brother's neck, and Nathan felt tears begin to pool once more. Joshua fell, a bloody river flowed down his throat. The brunette sobbed openly, as life slowly faded from his body. That was it. He’d killed him. He fell, but he felt nothing. His vision began to spin with stars, but he caught a glimpse of color as it all faded to nothingness. A flower. Despite the blood, the chaos, the graying sky, it still fought to bloom. He smiled, and succumbed to darkness.
The first thing he’d noticed was the rocking. It was slow, and it lulled him back into the depths of slumber. Some time later, he noticed the warmth around him, and he clung to it desperately. It grounded him, and he let himself hold onto it as the world faded back into color. Walking, voices making small talk, the gentle beat of a mighty heart, he heard it all. It was comforting, like a hug from a friend you haven’t seen for years. But the sounds couldn’t keep him above the sea of unconsciousness for long, and he slowly sunk down once more.
When some semblance of awareness returned to him again, he felt the slippery scales of some kind of reptile. They were warm though, so he wasn’t complaining. They rose up and down, and he realized he was on some kind of living being. He wasn’t sure what, but that didn’t matter to him. He groaned softly as small aches and pains made themselves known. He was shushed, and was given a cool spearmint drink, similar to the one he’d drank after waking up last time.
The third and final time he awoke was when he was lying in a bed. It was comfortable, and nearly brought him back under, but he forced his way through. His eyes fluttered open, and he was met with the same wooden ceilings of his room. A tired Jarrowyn sat, resting their head on their arms, and snoring softly. He didn’t move for fear of waking them up.
He looked around the room, noticing the various chairs strewn about. Most were empty, though he was surprised to see Amanda in the room as well, clutching Martinez’s hand. She was awake, and staring at him with wide, teary eyes. He smiled, though it likely looked as fatigued as he felt.
She carefully unlatched her hand from the other man, and bounded over to his bedside, the tears beginning to run down her scarred face.
“You are a self sacrificing asshole, Nathaniel Stein.” She whispered, clutching his hand like a lifeline. He chuckled, but winced at the pain that shot up his torso as a result. She noticed this, and sighed. “Your centaur friend said that you were stabbed right through. It's a miracle that you're even alive right now.” She ran a hand through her black curly hair. He softly patted her hand, not trusting himself to speak.
Jarrowyn groaned softly at the noises, and a hazel eye peaked through the waterfall of blonde hair. Noticing both that he was awake and that Amanda was speaking with him, they shot up. They grabbed his shoulders and brought the man close in an almost bone crushing hug. Nathan gasped, but only patted the centaurs back. They split apart from each other, and Jarrowyn stared at him with the most angered yet remorseful gazes he’d ever seen.
“Dont you dare do that again you fucking asshat.” They whispered, voice choking up a bit. Nathan only sighed, leaning back and giving a so-so motion with his hands. They huffed, and did the most adult thing they could and flipped him off. Nathan smiled, relaxing into the warm pillows that he was surrounded by. Martinez woke up some time later, and had a similar reaction to both of them, which made him feel both guilty and relieved.
“As much as I love a reunion, Nathaniel and I have matters to discuss.” The voice of Drahoslava spoke, causing everyone in the room to flinch. They backed away as the dragon approached, and he gulped inwardly at the inevitable reprimand he was going to face. She said nothing, but pulled out something she’d tucked between her wings. King Eliases blade, which glimmered in the sunlight that streamed in from the windows. “You arriving here cost us the lives of hundreds of soldiers, injured many more including Lady Neveah,” He winced at the reminders, which caused his guilt to fester. “But saved the entirety of the Other Side.” She finished.
“What..?” He whispered. Drahoslava snorted, and pulled out another item from her side. ‘Holy hell how much stuff is in there?’ He shook away the thought. The item in her hands was a parchment, similar to the wanted sign that he’d been shown originally. With a shaking hand, he opened it. Inside there were documents written by the former king, ones to make Joshua the next heir. He gasped, and winced at the pain.
“You stopped the man who would have ended us, you have, if unintentionally, stopped a centuries old conflict.” Drahoslava smiled at him. He couldn’t smile back, as the memory of Joshua’s blood flowing through his hands made him shiver deeply. Her smile faded, but she only straightened herself up. “I’m giving you this, you may stay here and work as one of my advisors, or live a life of your own choosing. What do you say?” She questioned. He thought for a moment. While a life working under the queen sounded wonderful, he knew that he had a child to raise. He thought over his words.
“Well, your majesty, as much as it is tempting to work under you, I have found that I no longer crave a life steeped in war.” He rasped. She sighed, but smiled softly.
“You know, you remind me of myself when I was young. Bright, yet calm and collected. I had fought in many battles before I met my love, and it was then did I realize that the life of battle only could last for so long,” Her smile faded as she continued. “I never got the chance to truly revel in the peace, and I’ll be damned if I take it away from someone.” She finished. Nathan felt his remains of doubt cast away.
Sure, he had a long way to go, a lot to learn, but he was ready for it. He was going to face a challenge he’d never faced, but he wasn’t alone. He had a family, and he’d be damned if he was going to let anything get in the way.
================================ Quick thank you to my ELA teacher for helping me write this. Anyways have a great day y’all :]
You’re a powerful dragon that lived next to a small kingdom. For centuries you ignored humanity and lived alone in a cave, and the humans also avoided you. As the kingdom fell to invaders, a dying soldier approaches you with the infant princess, begging you to take care of her.
MAJOR Cannibalism TW
The journey across the Helcaraxe took far longer than the elves expected it to. They had nowhere near enough food, and even the elves need to eat. So they did what they had to do.
Fingolfin did what he had to do because he was stubborn.
Fingon does what he must because he has to survive long enough to see Maedhros again.
Turgon does what he must because he will not let his daughter be orphaned.
Galadriel does what she must because she still needs to punch Feanor in the face.
Argon and Elenwe did not live long enough to need another food source.
Glorfindel, half frozen to death himself from repeatedly diving into the frigid waters to rescue others, didn't even have the capacity to choose whether or not to take the actions he took until they had already begun, and once you start, you don't stop until there's a better option.
When it is finished, they will never speak of it again.
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Feanor's army is left without food a great many times.
Before the sun's first rise and set, the Feanorians have created a way to determine who lives and dies in times of starvation, and they too refuse to speak of what happened to their dead.
They refuse because Maedhros, for all his protest of killing other elves, was the first to slit the throat of the elf chosen to die.
They refuse because not even Maglor can bring himself to sing of this, and Maglor could sing of his own family dying.
They refuse because Caranthir, for all his brutality and cruelty, believes that they are wrong.
But most importantly, they refuse because the first elf they ate was Amrod.
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The second most important time the Feanorian army is left starving is in F.A 548. This is the event with the most guilt around it.
Survivor's guilt from Elrond, because for all intents and purposes, the stolen twins should have been the first to die.
Inequality guilt from Elros and Erestor, because they knew that they weren't going to be harmed and they did not step in to suggest something better.
Existential guilt from Maglor, because he cannot bring himself to think that this is their fault.
And the overwhelming, self-loathing guilt of Maedhros, because at the end of the long, bloody day, he knows he should have done something to stop this. To make sure two sixteen year old half-elves didn't have to choose between starving and sinning. To make sure his brother didn't have to make that decision for them. He should have done anything.
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By the late Third Age, the few elves who know all of what happened are together in a city. Odd behaviors surround them like shrouds, concealing a much darker past. The people of Imladris have learned not to try to pull back these shrouds.
They don't ask questions when the mere sight of a red drink forces Erestor to hide in his chambers and cry.
They don't ask questions when the mere sight of meat has a good chance of making sure Glorfindel won't be able to keep anything down for days.
They don't ask questions when a particular word or phrase has Elrond refusing any food altogether for days.
They don't question, because they don't want the answer. They don't want to know what can break a man like Erestor, who acts like a glacier made of intelligence. They don't want to know what makes a Balrog slayer feel sick. They don't want to know what manages to drive a perfect person like their lord to the brink of complete collapse.
Au where I have no idea, Orion and D-16 find out about Sentinel beforehand and hate him and also they are in love and got together.
Original memes:
I have once again drawn my (and friend's) ocs
or, my Modern AU PolkAnna crap that doesn't need to see the day of light
So... the interaction with my dad is a good example of difficulties for conversation I think? I should add a disclaimer here that I’m not diagnosed with ADHD or autism, but I believe I may have one or both of these. I also believe that potentially both of my parents may have one or both of these things, but like I said, I haven’t been diagnosed and neither have they. Nevertheless, here is a post about struggling with communication stuff.
Basically, my dad went to the store to get things for a family lunch for tomorrow. I haven’t been feeling well all day (pretty sure it was something I ate), so I set a timer for about half an hour, figuring that if his text notifications woke me, I’d be ready to get up and help him move things in, and if he weren’t back within that time, he’d probably get back soonish, and took a nap.
Oh, boy, that is not what happened.
Yeah, no, for some reason, despite my ringer being on, neither his texts nor my alarm, which I set to a very loud song to make sure I would wake up, woke me. So I woke to the vibration of my alarm about two minutes after it was set to go off to less than pleased text messages about helping him to move stuff, which obviously I had missed by a good twenty minutes. I apologized for it, telling him that I hadn’t realized, and waited a bit. He didn’t respond, and I ended up drifting back to sleep. I know that was irresponsible of me, but I was just so exhausted.
This isn’t the first time something like this has happened, and I’ve always expressed my regret. I really don’t mean to sleep through things. Other times I’ve missed notifications because I was really busy. Regardless, I never just purposefully ignore my parents, and I really do try to be ready to help with unloading groceries from the car or whatever it is they need.
Anyway, this is the part about where taking notes for conversation takes place.
See, my dad has told me multiple times when I was younger not to give him any excuses, just to apologize and move on. So that’s what I’ve been doing. And it’s been hard because despite trying to catalogue what how he says he wants an apology or future interactions or whatever, clearly it doesn’t work that way. In my apology to him this time, I had just texted that I was sorry and hadn’t seen the messages. Later, when he had yelled at me to come downstairs, he demanded to know why I hadn’t elaborated, and I told him: because he said before that he didn’t want excuses.
To which he said he didn’t want excuses (I was correct), but that he wanted an explanation.
...yeah.
So I tried to give him the explanation, which was that I had been laying down because I wasn’t feeling well, etc. etc. that I already wrote. And he was less than understanding. Obviously, I don’t want to lie to him, but he doesn’t understand that when I say, “I don’t feel well,” it doesn’t mean, “oh, no, I stubbed my toe, time for me to be melodramatic.” Usually, it means, “I have felt like I am one belly jolt away from throwing up my entire guts, and I may or may not be getting a migraine.” Unfortunately, I don’t feel well often, and I suppose he thinks that I don’t feel well a little too often. Rest is really the best way for me to feel better, but he disagrees. So I told him the truth, and it only made him more upset. (I always wonder what he would want me to have been doing instead??? Like willfully ignoring him???)
Anyway, point of this is, that even when you think you have taken enough notes on interaction with someone, it’s best to take a few more. I don’t know what would have made it up in this scenario. Obviously, it would have been best if I hadn’t fallen asleep, so that’s on me, but it doesn’t change the fact that his reaction really hurts, scares me, and makes me anxious about sleeping in general, which is something I have issues with. Additionally, it hurts because it means that despite my explanations over the years that I’m not purposefully ignoring him or my mother, that he still thinks I’m just seeing his messages and going, “haha fuck you,” and ignoring him. Which is not the case.
Interacting with people is hard. And sometimes... they just don’t interact well. I’m still trying to figure out a way to explain everything to him, not just for this time but for the future, and I hope I can.
I don’t know what would have made this interaction better other than the not being asleep parts. I tried to do everything he has said to do when I get in trouble in the past (apologize, no excuses, short and to the point, etc.), but apparently, I’m not going to the family lunch tomorrow. Not my choice.
So, to my neurodivergent folk or anyone who struggles with conversations in general, I write this partially to prepare you about how your note taking won’t always work but also because... honestly? Sometimes there’s only so much you can do. Yes, in this case as with other instances, I’ve made a lot of mistakes. There were things I could have done better, as I’ve said. I’m not denying that I am in the wrong for that. And even though I don’t believe it’s wrong to have a monotone voice, I know that it didn’t help my situation that when my parents get mad at me, I can’t seem to get out of it, which I guess makes me sound disinterested or insincere in my apology.
But it doesn’t mean I’m the only one who could have done better. My father’s refusal to acknowledge that I’m not intentionally trying to piss him off, that I really am feeling sick today (and every time I tell him I am), and that I actually do try to be helpful, especially with this task, doesn’t just hurt me. It also hurts him.
And I know that plenty of kids fake sick or exaggerate illness, but you know what? You know whether your kid is like that. My dad has known me for almost 19 years, and even though there have been times that I have felt worse than others, it doesn’t take away from the fact that if I say I don’t feel well, I mean it. It’s not the difference between a scratch and a big illness, it’s the difference between if-I-don’t-rest-now-this-is-going-to-be-a-migraine and I-would-stand-up-if-I-could-but-I-can’t paired with goodbye-breakfast-have-fun-in-the-sewers and goodness knows what else. You know your kid, so please don’t project your own behaviors at that age or currently on them.
So if you are like me, or if you are like my father, please take this to heart. With every argument, there’s hurt on both sides, sometimes for different reasons, but in my experience, there are ways to address most of the issues so long as both parties are willing to.
And if there were any doubt, I actually did throw up. I threw up after laying on the bathroom floor desperately trying not to. So I guess in the end, it’s probably better that I’m not going to see any family members tomorrow in case I’m actually sick with illness and not food poisoning.
I did that 2 days ago
PUKE!!!!!!!
cw: bad/creepy caretaker, caretaker turned whumper, emeto, noncon (implied) drugging
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Comer enquanto os outros dormem não anula todas calorias que você comeu, porquinha!
Eu falhei!
Falhei novamente, toda vez que eu saio dos 57kg eu como igual uma porca, e todo aquele progresso se repete novamente.
Eu já estava com 55.2kg, e lá vai eu novamente lutar para chegar nos 55kg, DE NOVO.
Vomitar e abusar dos laxantes não é o suficiente, eu continuo me sentindo suja.
Toda vez que eu invento de fazer uma refeição de noite, fico ansiosa e só falta eu comer meu cachorro.
Eu estava indo tão bem, eu estava tendo ótimos resultados, mas lá vai eu estragar tudo de novo.
Compulsão maldita, começou por causa de uma mísera melancia.
Mas eu vou ficar em jejum até o próximo mês, só assim pra eu compensar.
Se eu não estiver com 54kg até dia 01/09, eu saio de vez do tumblr. (Mentira, não consigo largar vocês)
Sabiam que se eu chegar nos 52kg eu saio do imc normal para o abaixo do peso? Vantagens de ser "alta".
Me desculpem por ser fraca e falhar, Ana me perdoa, eu vou compensar.
Darlin': I'm so hungry.
Also Darlin': <-Just recovered from food poisoning
Darlin' therefore: ->Hasn't eaten in three days without throwing it back up again
Darlin': I could go for some grilled cheese... (the very thing that gave them food poisoning)
open question about writing pnes
i've been writing a fic for a while about a character having a psychogenic non-epileptic seizure due to being under a lot of stress (dan egan s3e7 special relationship iykyk) because i love to project onto characters :) i only have experience with non-epileptic seizures due to serotonin syndrome tho, and i've never had a psychogenic seizure. i've obviously done some reading but its not super easy to find tons and tons of info because its decently rare, so i am reaching out to the tumblr community :)
specific qs below the cut, tw emeto+brain damage
does vomiting happen during pnes seizures
is it possible to get cerebral hypoxia from not breathing during the seizure
is it even possible for it to be a one time thing due to severe stress
can you remember what happened during the seizure/around the time of it
after waking up is there disorientation and if so how bad + for how long
thank you!!!
Every cried so hard and been so pissed at yourself for breaking your clean streak that you throw up?
No? Haha yeah me neither,,
sent 1 (one) message of literally 4 (four) words and nearly threw up. that’s new
sent 1 (one) message of literally 4 (four) words and nearly threw up. that’s new