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i-eat-worlds · 1 month

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Wow Birthday Whump Day 5: Alt. Bridal Carry and “No!”

This is a fun one :) Teri whump!

Content: discussions and fear of death, brief hospital setting, severe illness, medic caretaker,

Teri smiled as Avia shuffled the cards, ignoring the pain pulsing in her head. The calm noise of the rec room buzzed around them, heroes playing thrilling games of air hockey and Mario Kart behind them. Avia had complained about a “post mission high,” and Teri wasn’t feeling super great, so they had opted for something calmer.

“Cut the cards.” They offered her the deck, narrowing their eyes. “Are you okay?”

She scrubbed her face. “Nothing. Probably caffeine.”

Avia took the deck back, dealt five cards to her, then five cards to herself, and placed it in the center of the table. Teri flipped the first card over, revealing a six of hearts. “You should probably lay off that stuff.”

“Yeah. But it tastes good.” She discarded a six of spades.

They snickered. “Fair enough.”

Teri sighed, drawing three more cards until they got one they could play. A moment of silence passed. “That was one hell of a job though.”

“Yeah. How many new baddies were there?” They grumbled something under their breath, realizing they couldn’t play.

“Seven or eight? To many.” She slapped down another card. Her stomach twisted, but she kept the discomfort off her face.

“Fuck,” they muttered, drawing another four cards. “I think they’re scraping the bottom of the barrel on the name front too.”

“Oh absolutely.” She smirked, ridding herself of a three of spades. “What was that one guy called- “The vaposquasher” or something?”

“I don’t know. There's too many of them to keep track of.” Her hand was starting to get stretched thin, keeping a hold of all of the cards.

“Yeah.” They lapsed into silence. The full day had lapped up their energy quite a bit, and they were both tired.

Her heart fluttered a little, discomfort flaring in her chest, and she made a face. Definitely too much caffeine then.

“You sure you’re alright?” Avia said, filling her hand with two more cards.

She nodded, using two fingers to flip over the last card in her hand, a queen of spades. “I know I’m alright.” She brought it down triumphantly. “I believe that makes me the winner.”

Avia gave her a look. “Pride comes before the fall, Teri.” They started to reshue their cards back into the deck, preparing for another round. “I’ll get you next time.”

The vibrating in her chest flared again, and she could feel her heart pounding double time. Her vision lurched, the room whirling around her for a moment. “Um, I think I’m going to go to bed.” She looked down at her watch. “Maybe the telekinesis did more than I thought today.”

“I’ll come with then. We all know I should be getting more sleep anyway.” They slid the cards back into their packaging. Teri stood up, trying not to wobble too much. Though they didn’t say anything, she could feel Avia behind her, ready to catch her just in case.

They made it to the elevator without issue, but halfway up, Teri found herself swaying again. The bright, reflective box was spinning, and the railing was unhelpful in that regard. She could feel it closing in on her, the walls narrowing, and she turned to Avia, frantically trying to get her to understand that something was wrong. Black dots filled her vision and she went limp, collapsing into Avia’s chest.

Eventually, she came too with her head pressed against Avia’s chest, arms positioned under her knees and upper back. The world felt like molasses, still gooey and unstable as she lifted her head up. “Hi ‘via.”

Avia looked relieved. “You’re awake.”

She nodded a little. “I need ‘oseph…” Her heart was still thundering in her chest. “Something’s wrong..”

“I’m getting you to him.” She turned the corner, trying not to jostle Teri too much.

“Oh..thank you….” Teri’s head bounced against Avia’s chest.

“I’ve got cha’.” They arrived outside of the door, and Avia pushed it open with her foot.

She charged straight through the foyer, laying Teri out on the couch. “Joseph?” Her voice carried through the apartment as he looked around for him.

“What do you need, Avia?” He walked down the hallway, steps quickening when he saw Teri laying on the couch. Judging from the basketball shorts and slippers, he had been about five minutes from going to bed. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. She passed out in the elevator.” Avai looked at him frantically.

“I’ll look her over, yeah.” He knelt down in front of the couch. “Can you get me my stuff from under the sink?” Her eyes lingered on Teri for a moment before she turned and shot down the hallway.

Joseph leaned forward. “Teri, are you with me?”

Her eyes flickered towards him. “Yeah.”

“Good,” he smiled at her, two fingers pressing into the thumb side of her wrist. “Do you know where you are?”

She nodded. “Apartment. With Avia. We were playing cards.”

Her skin was cool and sweaty underneath his touch. “How do you feel right now?”

“Tired. And dizzy. And my head hurts.” She was quiet for a moment. “It’s…It’s hard to breathe and my chest feels fluttery.”

Avia reappeared, setting the bag down next to him. “Can you call the response team?” He asked her.

Teri’s eyes went wide. “You think it’s that bad?”

He pulled on a pair of gloves as he spoke. “I think it's worth getting you some more help. They have equipment that I don’t, yeah.” She nodded, a little tearfully. “When did this start?”

“After we got back?” She shifted. The fact that breathing was difficult was obvious. “It wasn’t like this, just a headache, and some dizziness.”

“Have you taken anything at all? Even like an ibuprofen?” He unzipped the bag, pulling out the AED to get to what he needed.

“No.” She shook her head, then slowly pushed herself up with her elbow. “Not even caffeine.”

The movement caught his eye. “Is it better when you’re sitting up?”

“Yeah.” She pushed herself up more, and he let her.

“Alright.” Now that she was sitting, he no longer had to kneel. “When did you last eat or drink?”

The position change seemed to bring her some relief. “After we got back. A couple hours ago.”

“I’m going to get your vitals, and then we’ll go from there, yeah?” She nodded, and he started by clipping the pulse oximeter to her arm. After that came blood pressure, and that was where the real party started.

He kept his face neutral as he deflated the cuff. Hypertensive crisis. Wonderful. Her temperature and pupils were fine, but she was breathing too fast and he could feel the irregularity of her heartbeat in her wrist.

An even worse look spread across her face. “Joseph, somethings really wrong.” She pawed at her chest. “I don’t know…but it's not right.”

“The response team is on their way.” He squeezed her hand. “We’ll figure it out, yeah. You’re in good hands.”

“I just…” Her mouth made a million shapes but no words. “I don’t wanna die, Joseph.”

His eyes flew to her as soon as the words left her mouth. “Hey, hey, hey, no. I’m going to take care of you, yeah.” She was crying messily, and she might not have even heard him.

“It’s bad, Joseph, it’s really bad.” She reached out towards him, clinging onto the shiny material of his shorts.

His eyebrows furrowed. “How about you get on the ground?”

Teri listened, shakily lowering herself down onto the floor. The carpet was grating on her skin. “Joseph…Joseph I need…” She sobbed. “I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die.”

The world shimmered for a moment, before everything gathered into a pinpoint and disappeared. She was sure Joseph was saying something, but the only words that got to her before oblivion was Avia’s terrified, shrieked “Teri no!”

***

Joseph hunched over in the uncomfortable, too-hard chair at Teri’s bedside. Avia was snoring softly behind him, asleep in the much more comfortable seat, but he didn’t really care. Comfort would’ve been foreign to him anyway.

The normally background hum of the ward was extra jarring, and even though he knew what all of them did, seeing Teri surrounded by so many machines wasn’t exactly comforting. She’d arrested, right on the floor of Turquoise’s common room. It made sense then, but now that everything had calmed down, it felt worse. Random and targeted, at the same time.

He reached for her hand, careful of the cannula burrowed inside it. They’d said she was likely to recover, said that whatever crazy ass thing the supervillain had done was wearing off, said that she was responding to treatment and that her prognosis looked good, but it still didn’t erase the sinking feeling in his gut.

He’d promised her, he’d promised Pat, that he wouldn’t lose another. And this had cut far too close for comfort.

The words ghosted the back of his mind, amongst the chaos and the panic and the blood.

“Always kid, Always.”

Taglist: @pigeonwhumps@rainydaywhump@painful-pooch@rainbowsandwhumperflies@snaillamp @whumperofworlds

#worlds babbles #wow birthday whump #wow birthday whump day 5 #bridal carry #“No!”#discussion of death #fear of death #medical whump #medic caretaker #ignore me abusing SAMPLE to avoid writing real dialogue

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alliswell21 · 6 years

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I wish you would write a fic where... vampire!Finnick and vampire!Peeta try to understand human's modern-day social media! :P

Hi @thelettersfromnoone!!! Sorry it took me so long to answer your ask… I have to admit, when I first read the prompt I laughed, I envisioned it as a cheerful piece of comedy, but when I started writing it, it pretty much beat my hiney. I just couldn’t get the voices right, and the tone was all wrong, I think I rewrote it 3 times… it’s still not exactly what I set out to do, but it’s close enough… I hope this is ok.

Rated G

Louis de Pointe du Lac and Lestat de Lioncourt meet Vincent Vega and Jules Winnfield in this Peenick fic. Enjoy. (Most of the dialogue are actual rants I’ve heard from my husband’s grandfather, plus a few debates between my husband and his best friend from high school)

KPKPKPKPKPKPKPKP

Daylight Savings Time is finally at an end. All the clocks have been set back an hour, and sunsets come earlier each day… too bad I can’t see the glorious colors painting the sky with my own eyes tracking the sun’s slow descent into the horizon while the scattered clouds turn gold, orange and intense pink. It’s the thing I miss the most about being alive. The good news is that cinema is there to provide glimpses of my beloved sunsets, even if they are a flat replica.

I take a look at the clock on the wall, and then eye the sun setting charter taped directly under it. Fall is our favorite time of year, with its longer, darker nights. We are free to leave our den and roam the town, we can even walk into any establishment while it’s still regular business hours like normal people, because while the clock says it’s 17:00, it’s inky black outside, and no trace of the cheerful sun can be felt.

Today is special, though. “We are renewing our wardrobes!” Announced Finnick earlier, so as soon as the sun goes down, and it’s safe to leave our place,1 we’re heading to the mall on a business call errand.

“Is it time yet?” Asks Finnick entering the room, wearing a different outfit than the one I saw him in 10 minutes ago. He’s anxious. We haven’t been out in a while, and I know he’s both looking forward to this and nervous at the same time.

“Two more minutes, then we can go.” I tell him.

He makes a face that’s full of annoyance. We just heard the weather report, and it’s supposed to be a gorgeous evening. He hates going out on nice evenings to run errands when he could be luring beautiful, warm-blooded gals into the darkness of his bedroom. He considers it a waste, if he’s isn’t hunting, but he was the one to call for a day of shopping, I could care less about clothing.

“You know most everything can be acquired online nowadays. There’s very little instances your physical presence is required for a transaction to be made.” I offer softly. His glare is immediate and expected, but there’s mirth behind it as well.

He wrinkles his nose in disgust, but smiles nonetheless. “So impersonal, Peeta. Not at all how a gentleman should conduct business.” He says in his usual debonair tone, “It’s almost as if you don’t know me at all!” He flashes me that smile he uses to enchant his victims before his fangs graze along smooth, pulsating, bare necks, like a deadly caress.

I simply avert my eyes. Finnick is not my creator, but he was made 50 years before I was even born, and that makes him my elder, but sometimes, he can be such a brat! Is hard not to think of him as a child at times. His smile doesn’t have quite the same effect on me, though. I’m not a living woman, so I drawl out a response.

“With all the technological advances of the time, why bother going out, for something you can get from the safety and comfort of your lair?” I shrug, then smirk, “I’m sure you can find other, more suited pursuits for a night such as this.” I fan out a hand.

Finnick’s devious smile widens, a dangerous glint takes over his eyes.

I was told once, that Finnick used to have a lovely set of eyes, the color of the sea; that his gaze held the warmth of the tropics and the light of the sun. But when I look into his eyes now, all I see is a washed down shade of green, with pupils as dark and empty as the abyss and a danger that thrills as it pulls you in the darkened recesses of his penetrating stare, where natural light is nonexistent.

“Humanity has made the current time a very convenient era for our kind, hasn’t it?” He says taking a sit and crossing his leg over his opposite knee. “But first impressions do matter, my friend. You can’t just buy clothing from stock. Tailors exist for a very, good reason!”

This is just a variant of his many sayings of ‘the suit makes the man’ sentiment. I check the clock again, nodding in agreement, “But the internet is so much safer, what with all the ways you can interact with others, without really doing it.” I say more to myself than him.

“Why yes, one only needs to fiddle a smart phone apparatus, and everything’s there at your fingertips… what’s the fun on that?” He sounds partially angry.

“It’s convenient.” My voice is soft and monotonous. “Efficient and saves you the hassle of having to interact with vendors that may be irritating.” But for me, is more than that.

I’m not really into eating humans all that much, I rather take a stroll to the blood bank and peruse through the samples until I find something I want. I hate looking at the lifeless eyes of my feed providers after. So gruesome, ugh!

“It’s boring,” He states. “How much longer?” He asks impatiently.

“Take your coat and we may go.”

The drive to the mall is uneventful and quiet, but as soon as we step into the building, we both wince at the brightly lit entrance, artificial light bathes everything the eye reaches, but at the end of 10 seconds, we grow used to the glare. Our instinct is to flee the light, but our reason tells us it’s harmless so we walk right in. While we could smell the whole town since leaving our house, the scent of fresh blood assault our senses like a tide wave; I inhale deeply and allow a satisfied smile take over my features, but next to me, Finnick hisses in displeasure at the throng of people meandering about, as if he just walked into a fresh meat market, after pledging to be a vegetarian under duress. I wished I could say I was sorry to find enjoyment in his pain, but it’s actually kind of funny.

We make a left turn after passing the hubbub of the food court, and then we see them: people meandering around with their cellphones aloft, heads bowed towards the luminous screens, while ignoring anything and everyone else around them. Is one thing to see someone checking their email while sitting and consuming a tray of food court bourbon chicken and a 32 ounce Diet Coke, but another one to see an almost accurate representation of a zombie apocalypse, where the undead only respond to pings and blips. I know in my frozen heart, there will be no shutting him up until we get to the menswear store.

“Why do they do that?” Finnick asks under breath. “They look like sheep. Silly ones at that.”

I observe the few people so absorbed in their phones that narrowly avoid crashing into things along the way by sheer good luck with mild interest while we take the escalators in the middle of the first floor, then shrug.

The whole ride up, Finnick rambles, watching the hypnotized humans with contempt. “Why do they insist on developing this, so called, ‘virtual community’ nonsense? It keeps them from real life interactions, everyone so enthralled with their media devices?”

We climb off the escalator and fall into step side by side.

“It keeps them informed, connected with people they don’t normally see.” I tell him as we pass a kitchen and baking supply store, my head turns to look at a handsome set of measuring cups… you can take the corpse out of the bakery, but can’t take the bakery out of the corpse. “It expands their horizons even from the confines of their homes.” I say calmly, like I’m speaking to an overexcited child. “It’s in their nature to network and exchange opinions. Man was not created to be isolated, Finnick. Humans have a driving need to belong, and social media satisfies the void.”

“They abuse it, Peeta.” He says easily as we take a right turn, “Give a person an internet capable device, Twitter, Facebook… hell! Give them a comment box on a news article! humans can’t shut up! People behave poorly and opts to ignoring their sense of decorum. Is like they lack a filter, they become rude and attack one another when their ideologies don’t match completely.”

“Humans depend on social media now, there’s nothing else to it. It’s not a perfect development, it has its drawbacks, but it also has many pros and benefits. There’s no need to write it off entirely because humans are naturally imperfect and they tend to use their tools inappropriately at times. It happens.”

Finnick stops and sighs exaggeratedly. We really don’t need to breathe, but we still need air to pass through our bodies just the same, he just does it out of habit. He glowers at a passerby that makes the mistake of looking up when he feels someone staring, and judging by the way he trips while rushing to get away, he’s scared witless. I shake my head.

“I hate it when humans lie online!” Finnick mutters sullenly.

‘Ah! the truth at last’, I think to myself, understanding dawning on me. Finnick continues, ignoring my knowing half smile.

“You try to make acquaintances online, you find people that pique your interest and their life story at your fingertips, you could’ve very well just st found your next conquest, but if the information on them is false, further interaction gets hindered.”

“And if they decide no to meet in person?” I propose, taking a step forward.

“It’s truly inconvenient, not to mention disappointing especially when you need to feed.” He smiles, flashing his fully extended fangs, and then retracting them back into his skull.

“How romantic.” I deadpan. “You sound like one of those desperate types that uses date sites… wait, you are one of those.” I say in fake surprise.

Finnick discovered one questionable such site, and had one extremely bad online entanglement with what he thought was a living women; it turned out, he’d been chatting and enchanting an overweight, greasy hair, foul looking fellow that posed as a girl looking to befriend other girls for his own nefarious agenda. Of course, Finnick really wasn’t there innocently trying to make friends either, but he never pretended to be an oversharing teenage girl to lure anyone to him. Somehow Greasy Hair Fellow- I like to think of it as providence- crossed paths with Finnick, and when finally the truth came to light… let’s say, a number of unsuspecting girls got spared both Finnick and Greasy Fellow for good. At the end, Greasy Fellows remains. were a real messy business no one likes to reminisce about.

Finnick values my partial humanity warring with my undead nature most of the times, it’s what called to him when we met, but sometimes he hates the fact that I still have morals.

“I know how you feel, about it Peet!” he defends. “Social media may suit you as it is, but not me, I see it as the biggest pest the world has seen, and I’ve seen pests in my time roaming Earth.” He ‘dusts’ himself, as if merely talking about it has made him sooty. “Facebook will be the demise of mankind, mark my words.” He enunciates each word for emphasis.

“Now you’re just being dramatic.” I tell him, bored. “You make it sound like it’s impossible to find people out in the streets. Plus, there are a great deal of amazing things online. For example, Wikipedia is possibly the crowning achievement of humanity. People of all backgrounds have come together to record an amalgamation and collection of knowledge, that can be expanded, corrected and consulted when needed. That’s a good part of social media.” My tone is monotonous, because I really cannot muster the energy to be excited. Finnick says it’s a side effect of my dietary restrictions, that if I fed from a fresh live donor, I’d be healthier and livelier. I cannot dispute him on it, but I won’t go tempting myself with someone’s life, just to feel peppier.

“People can get facts wrong on Wikipedia.”

”That’s why there’s other people scouring over it at all times.”

“If you enjoy it so much, then donate to its maintenance.” He sneers childishly. “People hide behind their anonymity shield, and act and talk as nasty as they can. There’s no respect or consideration anymore.

“Back when I was a child, no one even had a telephone! If a person wanted to chat with another, they met face to face. People used to visit one another. Letters where the way to communicate with long distance acquaintances. None of this nonsense!”

“Finnick, you truly sound your age.” I drawl annoyedly.

This causes him to snap his eyes at me scandalized. “Take it back,” he hisses lowly.

Then, give. It. A. Rest! Social media is a useful tool.”

“A tool? Social media is not merely a tool anymore, Peeta, it’s part of their culture, they need it, they crave it, they can’t go a moment without it… why it’s like they’re addicted to it!”

”That may be, but the same can be said about food, oxygen and sleep. Social media aids as the ability to reach others. Now shut up and shop!”

I arch an eyebrow at him and he finally grunts in displeasure but walks purposely ahead. I just watch him as he rattles the door to the store open and steps inside smiling a beatific grin.

“Ah! Wonderful! Colorful display. That should cheer you up, Peeta!”

I suppress the urge to roll my eyes, since he’s making it sound like I was the one raving and raging our whole commute about social media and it’s dangers. He’s finally changed the subject, there’s no need to rile him up again, which still does not change the fact that he’s insufferable.

“Absolutely gorgeous,” I whisper relieved and step inside.

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