#tw broken bone

[smallpwbbles]

Some Fleetway Sonic doodles for you hungry fleetway fans out there also OG image for the meme

[space-writes]

so I have had. a Bad evening

one broken elbow needing surgery was not on my to do list but here we are

[angelic-oath]

alright,, gonna head off to bed now! have a good day/night, everyone.

random question: have you ever broken a bone?

[bookwyrmsbuttons]

Hey folks! I fractured my right wrist (dominant hand) last Monday. 😅 I’m having surgery on Friday. It’ll be at least a couple weeks before I can make new collage buttons for my shop, so I’ll be running a sale on the stuff I already have posted. Please tell your friends if you feel so inclined. 💖

[booksofstars]

guess who broke their leg this morning lol

[lux1fer]

gay gay homosexual gay Major gay northeast- I repeat, major gay northeast! /ref

[bigoltrashpile]

No Matter What

Hi everybody! This here is a commission for Palestine by the amazing @galacticroyal93!! Thank you so much for the support! If you want a commission, see this post for more details. Also, this fic is about broken bones, so if that freaks you out, maybe sit this one out.

“-and then, do you know what he said?  He fucking said that I was the stupid one!  After he asked for a discount on the shoes that he scuffed up!  Can you believe it??”

Papyrus fought back the urge to laugh.  He always loved when you told him about your day at work, even when you weren’t in the same place.  That’s what phones were for!  “I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT!  SOME PEOPLE HAVE GOT A LOT OF NERVE!”  He threw his wet laundry into the dryer and stepped into the living room.  He had you on speaker phone so that the other skeletons could hear you.  “I HOPE TOMORROW GOES BETTER FOR YOU.”

“Yeah, me too.”  You sighed through the phone.  “Oh well, these delicious nuggets will help me.  And the gummies.”  That was another thing about you, you were always fun to talk to while high, you had no filter.  Just how Papyrus liked talking! And one of the many reasons Papyrus liked you.  You didn’t try to hide how you felt. “Anyway, how was your day?”

“OH, NOT BAD, I JUST-”

“Oh, hold that thought, the doorbell rang, I think my package is here!”  There was the sound of you jogging to the door, and then the door opening.  Just then, your shrill oven alarm echoed through the tinny speaker.  You swore softly.  Suddenly, Papyrus heard the sound of slipping, and a sickeningly loud “CRACK.”

Immediately, Papyrus froze up.  Sans shot straight up from his supposed sleep on the couch.  From the kitchen, a mix between a gasp and a choke came from Slim.  “HELLO?  HELLO???  ARE YOU THERE, WHAT HAPPENED???”

“Ow,” you muttered.  “Oh shit, I think I broke something.”  There was a pause.  “Yeeeeeeeah that’s broken, I can see the bone.”

“OH MY GOD.  OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD, SHIT, STAY THERE, WE’LL BE THERE TO HELP IN JUST A MOMENT, STAY CALM!!!!” Papyrus shrieked, very not calm.

Sans was instantly next to his brother.  “i’ll shortcut us there,” he said.  His eyes were black.  “slim, you coming?”

Papyrus’s double poked his head into the living room.  “i...i don’t think i can.”  He somehow looked even more pale than usual.  “i think i’d throw up.  i’ll tell the others.”

“SIT TIGHT, WE’LL BE THERE IN A MOMENT,” Papyrus promised you.  His brother grabbed him and they both fell through space, right outside your apartment.

As soon as they were there, Papyrus pounded on your door.  Sure enough, there was a large package on the mat.  “WE’RE COMING IN,” Papyrus announced.  He phased through the door, unlocked it from the inside, and swung open the door.

Right on the floor of your living room, just feet from the door, there you were.  You waved casually up at Papyrus, like your foot wasn’t currently facing the wrong way.  Papyrus shuddered and tried not to look at it.  He could see an unnatural bulge in your skin where your bone was attempting to poke through.  “Hey Paps,” you smiled.

Papyrus couldn’t move.  You were hurt.  Badly.  This couldn’t be happening.  Would you be okay?  He had never gotten to tell you how he felt.  Seeing you like this was splitting his soul in two-

“holy shit.”  Sans stepped in as well.  His eyelights were still gone, and his smile was slack on his face.  “oh stars.  we gotta get ya to the hospital.”

“Oh.  Yeah, probably.”  You shrugged.  “Can one of you go turn the oven off?  My nuggets are gonna burn.”

“i got it,” Sans said quickly.  He vanished, and from the kitchen, Papyrus could hear him retching.

Papyrus knelt next to you.  He had helped Undyne with a broken arm once, so he knew how much pain you would be in once the adrenaline wore off.  “DON’T WORRY, WE’LL GET YOU TO A DOCTOR.  WILL YOU BE OKAY IF I PICK YOU UP?”

“Yeah, I should be okay.”  Papyrus carefully, carefully picked you up, trying his best not to jostle you at all.  You winced, but didn’t scream in pain, so that was good.  “Damn, you’re strong!” you said, clearly trying to distract yourself.

“ALL THE BETTER TO HELP YOU, MY DEAR!” Papyrus said, trying to avoid looking anywhere near your ankle.  “SANS!!!!  HURRY UP!!!”

A few seconds later, Sans returned, also not looking at the injured limb.  His face was just even more pale than Slim’s had been.  “yeah, oven’s off, let’s go.”

He put a hand on Papyrus’s shoulder, and the three of you were instantly in the hospital.

---------------------

“You guys can take me back home,” you complained.  “I can take care of myself.”

“IN ANY OTHER CIRCUMSTANCE THAT WOULD BE TRUE,” Scar admitted as he placed a large glass of water on the bedside table.  “HOWEVER, YOU CAN’T EVEN WALK.  YOU’RE STAYING RIGHT HERE.”

You pouted and folded your arms.  After your hospital visit, the skeletons had unanimously decided that you would be staying with them.  Your ankle was so swollen that the doctor’s couldn’t perform surgery yet, so you couldn’t put any weight on it until the next week.  Papyrus shuddered to think of you trying to crawl around the house, before giving up and just walking on your broken foot, hurting yourself even further.

“yeah, you ain’t goin’ anywhere until you’re better.  now shut up and take your drugs,” Butch insisted, shoving your bottle of painkillers into your face.

You laughed and tried to swat him away.  “Jeez, your bedside manner is terrible!  You guys are awful nurses!”

“THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS THE BEST NURSE!” Papyrus argued, putting a hand on his chest.  “THESE TWO ON THE OTHER HAND…”

“RUDE.  BUT FAIR.”  Scar had to admit.  “REALLY THOUGH, WE ARE GOING TO TAKE CARE OF YOU, NO MATTER WHAT.”

There was a knock on the door, before it swung open.  “GOOD NEWS!” Lucky announced.  He strode happily into the room with Slim and Sans, holding a large grocery bag.  “WE HAVE COME WITH GIFTS!”

“Presents?  For lil’ ol me?” you gasped, putting on a false Southern Belle voice.  “Golly, ya shouldn’t have!”

“too bad, we did,” Slim smiled.  “you’re hurt, so we wanna take care of ya.”

That made a small blush spread across your face, but you quickly covered it up by leaning forward eagerly.  “Well in that case, what did you bring me?”

Sans put the bag on the bedside table.  “to start with, we got ya some more nuggets, since yours went cold while we were in the e.r.”  He put a large container of fast food nuggets in your hand and you gasped.  If you were a skeleton, stars would have appeared in your eyes.  “then we got ya some candy, for emotional support.”

“also a new video game for ya to play while you’re stuck in bed,” Slim said.  “i can set up my system in here for ya.”

“AND THEN I GOT YOU A BOOK OF CROSSWORD PUZZLES, AND…YES!!  THE PIÈCE DE RÉSISTANCE!”

“i tried to veto this but i was outvoted,” Slim interjected.

Ignoring him, Lucky triumphantly pulled out a nightgown.  It had lobsters on it, and the words “Pinch me, I’m dreaming!” on the front.  Your face lit up at the stupid pun, but Papyrus groaned.

“Oh my god, that’s so thoughtful!” you beamed.  “It’s going to be really hard to take pants on and off, so that’s a great idea!  And I love the pun!”

“i knew ya had good taste, doll,” Butch winked.

“I THOUGHT YOU HAD BETTER TASTE,” Papyrus huffed.

“Anyway, I should probably get that on.  And take a bath or something.  And go to bed, it’s been a really, really long day.”  You sighed.  “Thanks again for all your help, guys.”

“do ya need any help with that bath?~”  Butch winked.  He wiggled his bone brows suggestively, just to really drive the point home.

“I mean…maybe, but not from you!” you laughed.  “You’re way too horny to actually help!”

“I CAN HELP!” Papyrus immediately volunteered.  “...IF THAT’S OKAY, OF COURSE.”

You smiled.  “That would be perfect, actually!  I trust you, Papyrus, you’re a gentleman!”

“I’M ALSO A GENTLEMAN,” Scar argued.  “I CAN HELP AS WELL.”

“That is true, but you have those scary claws,” you pointed out.  “No offense, but I don’t want to get stabbed and have a broken bone.

“c’mon, let’s give ‘em some privacy,” Slim said gently.  “they need sleep anyway, gonna be hard with all of us in here.”

The skeletons, besides Papyrus, filed out of the room.  A few of them shot Papyrus jealous glances as they left.  Once they were all gone, Papyrus turned to you.  “LET’S GET YOU CLEANED UP,” he said gently.

Once again, he picked you up bridal style.  He was terrified of jostling your broken bone, so he was sure to treat you like a porcelain doll.  He carried you to the ensuite bathroom and set you on the closed toilet seat.  He turned on the water before turning back to you.  “ARE YOU OKAY WITH GETTING YOUR ANKLE WET?  YOU DON’T HAVE A CAST OR ANYTHING SO IT SHOULD BE OKAY, BUT WILL IT HURT?”

“No, I’ll be fine!” you beamed.  “Can you go grab me my pills while I get undressed?  I should maybe take them now so they kick in once it’s time for bed.”

“GOOD IDEA.”  Papyrus went back to the bedroom and grabbed the pill bottle and the glass of water Scar had left.  He waited politely outside the bathroom door until you shouted that he was okay to come back in.

Keeping his eyes firmly on the ceiling, Papyrus walked back into the bathroom.  He did not want you to feel uncomfortable in the slightest.  You giggled at his actions before taking the pills.  “Can you help me into the tub?” you asked.

Papyrus nodded, and helped you lower yourself into the water using your one good leg.  You winced at the heat, but quickly relaxed.  “This is so nice…you guys are the best,” you sighed happily.  “How did I ever get such good friends…”

“BY BEING YOURSELF,” Papyrus pointed out.  He handed you a rag and some soap.  He gently scrubbed your back while you very carefully washed your ankle.  “YOU’RE WONDERFUL, YOU DESERVE ALL THE GOOD THINGS IN LIFE!”

“Ha, my wonderful stupid self, tripped over my own door mat,” you laughed bitterly.  “If I could just walk straight you wouldn’t have to take care of me…”

Well now, that negative attitude just wouldn’t do!  “Hey,” Papyrus whispered.  He gently gripped your chin and turned your head around so he could look you in the eyes.  “Do Not Speak Poorly About Yourself.  I Am More Than Happy To Help You.  You Would Do The Same For Us, Right?”  You nodded silently.  “Then Let Us Take Care Of You.”

He let go of your chin, and you turned back.  Your skin seemed much hotter than before as Papyrus continued to help you wash.  “T-thank you,” you whispered.

“ANYTHING FOR YOU!”

Once you were finished washing up, Papyrus once again helped you out of the tub and handed you the-ugh-pun filled nightgown.  Gently, he helped you pull the nightgown on.  He would have let you do it yourself, but your painkillers had clearly kicked in much faster than you had expected, and you were having trouble staying balanced.  Even while sitting down you seemed wobbly.

Papyrus scooped you up once again to take you back to bed.  He loved holding you like this, you were so light and cute, and it made him feel strong.  Like he could protect you.  It was a great feeling.

You yawned as Papyrus tucked you into bed.  “Mm…thank you Papy,” you beamed sleepily.  “You’re the coolest.”

“Thank You!  Now, Get Some Rest.”

Papyrus tried to leave, but your hand on his stopped him.  “Hm?  Do You Need Something Else?”

“C’mere.”

Papyrus leaned down.

“Closer.”

Papyrus knelt next to you so his head was right next to you.  “Yes?”

Suddenly, you sat up and pressed a kiss to Papyrus’s teeth.  “Mm…love you…”

You plopped back into bed, and were somehow immediately snoring.  Papyrus was frozen.  You had…kissed him???  On the teeth????  Does that mean you like him????

After a…much longer time than he would like to admit, Papyrus finally came back to reality.  He walked out of the bedroom in a trance.  On his way out, he almost ran into Hound and Noir.

“we weren’t eavesdropping-” Hound quickly said, before freezing.  “you good?”

“YOU LOOK…ORANGE,” Noir half chuckled.  “DID YOU TWO HAVE FUN?~”

“I…UM…” Papyrus’s brain was still working at half speed.  “THEY…KISSED ME??” “WHAT???” Both skeletons shrieked.

“IT WAS PROBABLY JUST THE PAINKILLERS, BUT…YEAH!”

“damn, lucky,” Hound grumbled.  “drunk words are sober thoughts and all that.  i bet they like you more than they let on.”

“REALLY???”

“yeah.  i’ve confessed so much shit while drunk, you have no idea.”

“MAYBE I’LL SEE HOW THEY FEEL ABOUT ME TOMORROW,” Noir thought aloud.

While the two skeletons spoke, Papyrus’s thoughts were back with you.  Did you actually like him?  He liked you, a whole lot.  He just thought you didn’t feel the same!

Well, he would ask you later.  Having you feel the same as he did would be a dream come true!

Papyrus went back to his own room.  Even though he was practically shaking in excitement, he forced himself to stay calm.  Right now, taking care of you was the biggest priority.  He could have a long talk with you later, after you were healed.  In the meantime, he would just have to prove that he could take care of you better than anyone!

[surplus-of-sarcasm]

Numéro 23, Part 2

Part 1

Well, based on this, here's a (I'm so damn sorry you have every right to sue me) a very late part 2 to this snippet.

TW: Mentioned bone fracture, mentioned murder, restraints, alcohol drinking

"Oh, I wouldn't do that if I were you," a smooth voice called out from the corridor, the sound of footsteps gradually becoming louder as the villain walked into the room.

Their eyes darted over to Hero, their gaze almost patronisingly disapproving as Hero struggled to break out of their handcuffs, with their fractured leg allowing for very limited movement.

The hero resisted the urge to roll their eyes and stopped what they were doing, trying to sit up, glaring at the villain as though they could incinerate them with simply their eyes.

The criminal simply ignored any attempts at threatening displays from their nemesis, settling down on an armchair in front of their bed. They were dressed in a dark teal sweater and a pair of loose-fitting jeans, an outfit that the hero had seen them wear countless times before in college, but this time its casualness was so awfully jarring, simply because it was just so damn difficult to imagine that they were the murderous assassin they were hunting down.

It didn't matter. Didn't matter how much the crime-fighter despised it, the kill count was there on that file they'd seen yesterday. The three oppressive digits staring at them with as much certainty as the deaths their vis-a-vis had caused.

"How are you feeling right now?" the villain asked in the same velvety tone, snapping them out of their reverie.

"What do you want?" the hero huffed out, raising a skeptical eyebrow and clenching their jaw.

"You didn't answer my question." It was a warning, not a statement, and the hero noticed the way the villain's shoulders tensed subtly, except they payed it no heed.

"Let me rephrase that. Why didn't you kill me?" The hero made absolutely no effort to sugarcoat the venom in their tone. If they didn't kill them when they should have, then they wouldn't just throw that away now.

A ghost of a smile graced the villain's lips, fading away just as quickly as it came to be. They let out a sigh of defeat, turning the full weight of their steely gaze on the hero. "Because you don't deserve to die," they answered simply, the edge of finality to their tone highlighted by them clasping their hands together.

The hero let out a disbelieving snort. "Oh, so your three-digit kill count is a testament to how you should be made the absolute authority on who gets to live and who doesn't."

"Not exactly, Hero. But have you bothered to look at my targets before throwing those accusations my way?" they challenged, raising an eyebrow, "or do you just follow the agency like a blind-folded bull through everything?"

"I know the agency's full of crap. I wasn't born yesterday. Still, I have a hard time believing you killed those people simply out of the goodness of your own heart."

The way the crime-fighter took in the room in which they were placed wasn't lost on the villain; they knew the hero could tell they were somewhat well-off. "So my job pays well. Is it a sin to reap what I sow?" The villain was growing visibly impatient, their jaw clenched, their lips pressed together in a thin, hard line.

"Let's cut the crap, shall we?" the hero bit out tersely, flashing the villain a fake grin.

"I'd like nothing more," they answered back, their voice just like steel, silk-smooth and yet terribly cold. And yet they had the audacity to have a genuinely hurt look in their eyes, as if the hero was the one to betray them.

"You didn't kill me."

"I saved your life," they corrected, getting up to go into the kitchen and coming back with what was probably a ridiculously expensive bottle of alcohol and pouring themselves some in a glass as they sat down again.

"Which means I owe you for this. But it doesn't mean I suddenly believe you're a saint."

The villain didn't say anything, simply responding by pouring themselves more wine and giving the hero a pointed look. It didn't take that long though for their gaze to soften as they set their now empty glass down on a small table and walked over to stand at the foot of the hero's bed. They frowned at their enemy's wary gaze, at the visible tension in their shoulders, at every sign of mistrust the hero's body failed to hide.

"I'm not the kind of person you think I am," they attested their voice barely above a whisper as they crossed the distance between them, pressing down onto the mattress with both of their hands and looking straight into the hero's eyes.

"Who I thought you were. You've made that perfectly clear," Hero replied, their harsh words rendered almost ineffective due to their shaky voice.

"Our time in college together, these moments, they weren't fake. We don't have to give them up," they attested gently, their hands mere inches from the hero's own, slender fingers skirting over the handcuffs. "I saved you because I care about you."

They half-expected a snide remark, but the hero let out a measured breath and something in their gaze changed, almost imperceptible, but the villain noticed everything. "Whatever was between us. . .was that friendship-"

"Or love? I know there was friendship, I know there could be love, but this is a two-way street. I won't force your hand. Not on this," they stage-whispered, close enough till they were practically breathing each other's air.

"I know. Those three digits on that file make it almost unthinkable to trust me. But that's all you know. All you've been told. Aren't you the one who said to me that you'd never build an idea on someone based on a single fact? That you need the full picture?" they urged, their eyes widening not looking at anywhere besides straight into the hero's chestnut brown gaze.

Straight into the line of fire.

Hero wished, more than anything, with the same desperation as a sinner's prayer for atonement, that the villain couldn't take note of their chest rising and falling rapidly with their erratic breaths, of how their blood roared in their ears, of how badly they wished to tear their gaze away from their enemy's face.

"Let's look at the situation at hand here," the hero replied, and they caught the villain's soft, quiet laugh at the statement; at the familiarity established by the number of times the hero had used it. They still didn't comment. "I'm injured and at your mercy, so there's not much of a choice here."

At that, the villain let out an inelegant snort. It wasn't the first time they'd heard it, but it wasn't the first time it had seemed disconcerting to them, never matched the villain or their graceful nature. "Don't downplay your abilities, darling. You'll figure something out if you need to."

An involuntary shiver snaked down the crime-fighter's spine, leaving a strange tingling in their nerves that almost seemed to find its way through the muscles of their shoulders and most of their back at how perfect the pet name sounded in the criminal's voice, even if there was a chance it was sardonic. "With a broken leg?"

"A small obstacle." The villain's smile was subtle, but it could've blinded the hero, dagger-sharp and yet strangely gentle at the edges, their eyes crinkling at the corners.

It wasn't the first time they'd seen the villain genuinely smile, but this kind of smile, almost feline in nature, was a new experience. But again, it wasn't like ruminating on their enemy's various and ever-changing facial expressions was a new interest of theirs.

"But I actually want to earn your trust," they countered, something in their demeanour sobering up as the playful, razor-edged glint in their eyes softened into something warmer. They unlocked the handcuffs with a key in their pocket, inching closer again to them to place a gentle kiss that seemed to last longer than it really did to their forehead, alcohol and honey mixing together with the fresh scent of the villain's conditioner and wafting into the hero's nose without the courtesy of a warning. They spent a good few moments rubbing some feeling into the hero's wrists with their fingers, the warmth and the gentle touch melting the discomfort away quicker than they'd thought. It felt as though they were apologising for causing the pain in the first place.

"I'll make us breakfast," they said, pulling away from the hero and smiling, a much more tender expression than the Cheshire cat grin they were previously wearing.

The hero simply nodded their agreement, hoping their face hadn't betrayed the sudden disappointment that ran through them like poison at the cold left behind on their skin, on their forehead and their wrists, at how the villain's scent still lingered in the air around them even as they walked out.

They hated how they even managed to feel any kind of dismay, how for a moment, they'd let themselves get lost in the soothing touch and all its comfort, as though villain's kill count and the ruthlessness with which they fought had sobered them up forcefully, like a heavy vase had shattered abruptly, destroying a pin-drop silence. But right now, they just had to follow through with this and keep a clear head so that their conflicting emotions didn't destroy everything for them.

Life is a game of both chance and skill, all of the factors affecting its course on a dice of infinite sides. The mind wishes to believe it can override the heart and never fail, but moving mountains is easier when the heart remains living, breathing flesh and not stone-hard and burnt blackened. We are not as powerless as we like to believe; a lie despair of our own fashioning tries to sell us. Because wisdom was never having all the answers, but having the courage to find them.

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