#[ nOT sure what i'll write today ]

[thinwhitedoc]

THE RESPONDER | Martin Freeman as Chris Carson

[cerise-on-top]

This is a vent piece. My psychosis got far worse again today, and my anxiety has been peaking each day for the past two weeks now. Pretty sure no one's going to read this, but I don't care. I wrote this with Price in mind, but this could be about anyone.

TW: graphic metaphors of violence, reader is psychotic and going through an episode, I think

What a beautiful day it was. The sun, at its zenith, brought a pleasant temperature with it. Any creature, capable of feeling both pleasure and warmth, would yearn for a nap underneath its rays. The sky, such a radiant blue, glorious in its pulchritude, made for the ideal day to go outside. Wherever one were to look, a human and its companions were close by, smiling at each other, cracking jokes. Some were enjoying lovely meals, others were indulging in sports. But many agreed, such a day had to be lived. Stormy clouds would come soon enough as they were, bringing an end to this reign of cheer. However, such thoughts couldn’t have been further away from the masses.

So, why were you stuck at home, bearing the curse of a headache no one had ever understood? This echo of a pain, it had only ever brought you suffering. Gripping your hair in your hands, you fought a war with yourself to not bash your head against the wall. The urge, ever so strong, was taking a hold of you, but you dared not let it win, for the consequences were dire enough to scare you into dominance over your mental illness. It was an unbearable pain, unlike anything you could ever have experienced normally. And yet, you’ve been living like this for the past few years now. It brought you to your knees as your breathing was uneven. Sharp breaths, deep breaths, were you even breathing at all? Even the voice in your head was concerned, trying to soothe you. Why wouldn’t the pain go away? Why couldn’t you have been normal?

Promises of aid in your darkest times came to mind, but the fear of burdening your loved ones broke each and every one of them. You wanted to swing your head violently around, making sure to break your skull, the splinters in your brain drowning out the pain that currently was. You couldn’t make it through this alone, but you had to. You were scared, alone, but you were a warrior, fighting for survival. If anyone ever knew how much agony you were in, they’d point and laugh at you. Your breathing sped up as you lowered your head to the floor. The cold wood did nothing to alleviate the torture you went through. You wanted to bite away at your own skin, gnawing at your bones so the physical pain would overshadow the mental one. You clutched your head, horrid images of flesh and bone crossing your mind. What did you do? And why did you deserve this? Picking at your skin, cutting away the flesh to reveal what’s inside, tearing open your body. You didn’t want this.

But somehow, a hand was placed on your back. As warm as the sun, as meaningful as the first nice day after a storm. You didn’t dare to look up. You’ve messed up. Someone saw you in your vulnerable state, here to take no mercy on you, who suffered through the layers of hell in this ordinary world. The hand burned through your skin, ridiculing you, but you craved it.

“Love, what’s wrong? Please look at me.”

You were shaking, your stomach churning as you tasted iron in your mouth. You were not long for this world, but you had to endure.

“It hurts so bad. I’m sorry.”

The hand on your back started to move, frantically so as it attempted to soothe you. The warmth spread, but your pain has been noted by someone else. You couldn’t move. But still, as humiliating as being perceived was, you focused on the hand.

“Don’t be sorry. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

The voice in your head made it all up. It was so loud, almost drowning out any other sound. You needed him to speak. He needed to continue, he needed to distract you.

“I’m sorry.”

Two arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer to another source of warmth. His heart was beating, he was breathing, he was a beacon of comfort.

A body you loved, so close to you. His scent was almost overwhelming, but it was proof he was alive. You were alive, you believed, taking it in.

“Please, continue talking. I don’t care about what.”

And so, he betrayed your one request, staying silent. Perhaps it was your fault, perhaps it showed a weakness within him that only you could bring forth. And yet, his mere presence brought to light a strength you forgot about within yourself. As you no longer held onto your head as though it was torn at the seams, you instead sought him out. Finding solace within a gentle embrace, you took a deep breath as you buried your face in his shoulder. He was a soldier, one much better fitted for the cruelty this world brought about. He only knew how to kill, his only home was within the damned souls he sent to hell. But within his gentle grasp, you focused solely on him. Begging for comfort, like a child starved of its parent’s attention.

The knife of unreality twisted in your guts, slitting your throat, leaving you unable to speak. You were dependent on him in that moment. It was him, who needed to stitch you back together, make sure you could regard yourself as anything but a human failure. If you could even consider yourself a human in the first place.

But he was oh so meticulous in taking each bloody piece, infusing it with new life before merging it into an empty hull of a body. And as he’d build his own poisoned paradise, he inhaled the fumes and saw a glimpse of a future he still desired. What you had always seen as his certain demise, he saw a dream more pleasant than the heavens themself. Exhaling into your seemingly lifeless body, he shared his very essence with you. Even when you unwillingly knock on death’s door, he would still protect you from the grief of losing yourself, tearing you away from the pain of the unknown.

The sun, at its zenith, had nothing to say to you. It gave you an environment to live in, but no reason to stay in it. Only this one man, broken from war, found it within himself to show you the joy of being. His pieces had been scattered, but he still shared what little was left of him with you, building a secure fort around your being.

And from within the view of a safe home, you could even gaze at the stars, relishing in the cold. You had a different kind of warmth to return to.

[b4kuch1n]

I actually for real feel like my phone's scanning quality has dropped monumentally while I was away on thing so that's a fun thing to figure out now. anyways

[generic-sonic-fan]

Omega's a static character because he had his character arc in the basement before Rouge found him

[front-facing-pokemon]

[recitedemise]

𝗚𝗮𝗹𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗲𝗺𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗱𝗮𝗯𝗯𝗹𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗳𝗶𝗲𝗹𝗱𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗺𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗰, 𝗱𝗮𝗿𝗸, 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗳𝗮𝗻𝗲, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗿 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝘄𝗶𝘀𝗲. Still, chalk it up to his thirst for knowledge, not so much for any thirst for power. Gale, a scholar—inquisitive, curious, and infinitely probing—boasts an insatiable desire to learn all that he can. However, as a follower of Mystra, he's solely from her Weave that he's encouraged to pull from; yet, despite this urging, this unspoken rule, the chasms of the Shadow Weave yet bubble in his thoughts. It's powerful magic, of course, warped under Shar like bones or metal, but still, the arcane is mystery, and the arcane delights him, and even clouded by corruption, it still harbors its worth. Put simply, Gale believes that all magic is essentially fair game. After all, it exists on their plane, sits waiting there a touch like a well for your thirst, and so long as you're careful, what's the harm in sampling? In the Shadow Cursed lands, he'd felt the itch to indulge himself, to whet his need, and when he fashioned that lantern without his goddess' permission, there sprung a devilish delight that timidly gripped him. It was like, well, being a boy again, to be honest, with his hand in a jar of biscuits he'd been told to not touch. It was an act of rebellion, spurred a quiver by Mystra's spite, sure, but far more than that, it came from a weakness to feel its power, and to feel the heft of it and to taste its tang. If it's one thing about Gale, it's that he so thoroughly loves magic. And even if said magic is cursed and bedeviled, it'll always have a draw for him, tamable or otherwise. To be sure, there is some hubris at play here as well: he'll be careful, he tells himself. He can manage.

For better or for worse, Gale, though more morally aligned than not, can still find himself weak to temptation.

[elvenbeard]

Timing

Summary: Kerry and V keep missing each other's calls, and need to work on their communication. Kerry decides to investigate what's going on with V, but is not prepared for what he will find. (Post-Sun-Ending, Chapter 2/?, 4003 words, Kerry Eurodyne/V) >> Previous Chapter

“Are you fucking shitting me?” Kerry cursed when once again all he got on the holo was the goddamn voicemail. This time he didn’t leave a message, angrily hung up, and only just resisted the urge to fling his phone off the studio roof.

“You need to work on your fuckin’ timin’, V,” he muttered, pacing around the rooftop terrace as he lit up a cigarette. Once he’d noticed the missed calls – despite everything it had been a really good day recording today – he’d immediately dropped everything to run outside. The reception in the booth was miserable. He’d been anxiously waiting for a sign of life from V from the moment he left two days ago. He’d barely slept, and now that he was back he still couldn’t get him to answer his damned holo. Kerry breathed out a huge plume of smoke through his nose, then took a deep breath in. The studio may have been in the middle of Charter Hill, but up here all he heard was the wind. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on that, visualized it blowing away all his frustration, even if only for a few minutes. Then he pulled up his holo again. Even if he couldn’t reach him now, he could at least listen to V’s voice in the two messages he’d left him.

The first one was from almost two hours ago… V had come back in one piece, at least. But as he did so often lately, he sounded so absentminded, which worried Kerry more than anything. More than the hesitation to talk about his clients, which he’d usually never been shy about, especially the stressful, annoying ones, which this one seemed to be. It worried him more than the ridiculously long hours he stayed away lately, too, ‘cause V’d been like that occasionally even before taking over from Rogue. Something in V’s voice wasn’t quite right, hadn’t been for a few weeks, and Kerry wished he’d at least let him have a glimpse into his mind… but it seemed utterly impossible to peer behind his walls, was getting harder every day. Something had happened, but he didn’t know what it was. It drove him nuts. At the same time, he wondered if he was reading too much into it, only making it worse… or if he was not doing enough and V withdrew on purpose... Would leave him, like everyone else had before.

He opened the second message before his thoughts began spiraling too much again.

“Hey back at ya. Again. Just wanted to say, I’m almost home now, just driving through Corpo Plaza.”

Yeah, Kerry could hear the noise of the rush hour traffic in the background. Ridiculous how he kept doing that to himself without thinking much about it. But V was good behind the steering wheel, and old habits were hard to kill.

“I’ve… been thinkin’ about you a lot, about us.”

Kerry’s heart almost stopped. Had he been thinking about him, about them, just like that, or… was this the start of the “we need to talk” conversation he dreaded more than anything?

“I finally had a moment to listen to your messages from earlier today, too…”

Fuck… He’d regretted leaving those the second it was too late to take them back. He’d been still half-asleep, worried sick, and honestly, a bit mad at V for the way he’d been acting lately. Had he picked up the phone then, hearing his real voice alone probably would have been enough to soothe Kerry’s anger and sadness. But he’d been out there somewhere, unable to answer, and Kerry just blurted out what he was feeling at that moment without thinking it through, talking to a wall more than to V directly.

It was true, he wished they’d spend more time together… but he also knew only too well that V was trying everything in his power to even allow them to have more time. Alt had given him six months, at most, roughly. That was over three months ago. Viktor had done everything he could to patch V up after Mikoshi, and when he was at his wits end, Kerry phoned around and gathered some of the best specialists for brain stuff his endlessly deep pockets could buy them. But all they did was quickly come to the conclusion that the tech V would need to survive this didn’t exist yet. They could ease or delay some of the worst symptoms, and maybe that could give him some additional weeks, or a month, but not much more. Hearing that almost destroyed him, and he couldn’t even imagine what V must have felt when they told him. The nights they’d both spent crying afterwards, about how unfair it was that the time they’d have with each other was so limited. So many wasted years, and V wouldn’t even get to live half the lifetime Kerry had under his belt.

And here he was, getting pissy about V forgetting to go to the grocery store. Again, the urge to toss something off the roof rose, so Kerry threw his half-smoked cigarette. He’d been so lost in thought that he didn’t even catch the rest of the message, so he had to replay it.

“I finally had a moment to listen to your messages from earlier today, too…”

The pause that followed was almost unbearable.

“I love you, Kerry, I hope you know that. ‘Cause I know I’ve been bad at showing it lately.”

“Fuck,” Kerry cursed, a huge chunk of tension falling off his back, so much so he felt the overwhelming urge to sit down on the floor for a moment. He only just caught the tail end of the message of V saying goodbye.

“Yeah, I know that, ya gonk,” he said quietly, “Now please just pick up your fuckin’ holo so I can tell you the same.”

He called, and this time V at least wasn’t talking to someone else, but he still didn’t pick up for some reason. There was no way he’d made it all the way back home already, right? Or maybe he had, no reception in the elevator. Or he was in the shower already.

“Urgh, fine!” Kerry yelled, his voice echoing across the city. He got back up, paced over to the stairwell, and jogged back down the few flights of stairs to the level the studio was on. The recording engineers were still there, sitting on the sofas by the enormous mixer console just outside the recording booth. They seemed to be enjoying their short coffee break, as Kerry had instructed them to before running upstairs, and were joking with Kerry’s new manager Lee who hadn’t been here yet before.

“Kerry!” he said, beaming with annoying joy but also flinching slightly as Kerry stormed into the room, “I have great news! I’ve been phoning back and forth with the Crystal Palace management - …”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, send an e-mail. I gotta go,” Kerry brushed him off as he snatched up his jacket from one of the chairs by the mixer and immediately turned around to leave. The engineers stared at him wide-eyed but didn’t dare to say a thing.

“But… Kerry, this is huge! Let me just-…“ Lee stammered, but Kerry was already out the door.

He was drumming against the control panel restlessly, a random little beat that wouldn’t leave his head, as the elevator took him down to the parking garage agonizingly slowly. He knew it was in vain, but he tried calling V a couple of more times before he made it to his car. Then again as he finally emerged from the darkness, greeted by Charter Hill’s fake cherry trees and glass skyscrapers gleaming golden from the setting sun. But no luck.

Kerry sighed and turned right to get on the highway. It was the less direct way home, but no way in hell he’d squeeze himself through the City Center rush hour like some people did. On the way to Little China he kept trying to reach out to V a few more times, but he didn’t answer. For a moment he pondered calling Rogue but brushed the thought aside. Why would she know anything he didn’t?

Finally, Kerry arrived in the street their penthouse sat on; the parking garage was just around the corner. Even Little China was busy around this time of day… or at least it was today. There was quite the commotion ahead. At first Kerry didn’t think much of it, slowing down his car. Traffic was still moving, but apparently redirected elsewhere. As he got closer to the intersection, he saw that the NCPD had blocked off the road, and a tow truck just arrived to get rid of the carnage of a nasty-looking car accident. An NCPD officer gestured him to turn around, and Kerry almost did without second thought. Then he looked back to the wrecks once more, he wasn’t even sure why, and his heart stopped for the second time in under half an hour. He thought to recognize V’s grey and gold Quadra V-Tech being one of the wrecks. He slammed on the breaks and froze, the guy in the car behind him honking angrily.

“Please turn around, the road is blocked!” the NCPD officer in front of him yelled over her megaphone, but only garbled nonsense reached Kerry’s ears. Almost automatically he put his car in park mode and got out.

“Sir! Stay in your vehicle!” the cop yelled, while in the background the V-Tech was prepared for getting towed.

Kerry started marching towards the police cordon, more cars behind him honking, some turning around chaotically and almost causing another accident.

“Sir!” the cop yelled again, more threateningly this time. But yes, seeing it up closer now, Kerry was absolutely sure this was V’s car. The windshield was broken, the entire front damaged almost beyond recognition, but the color and a few other details were quite unique. The other car, a red Mizutani, was in even worse shape. Lying on its roof the rescuers had cut off the doors to get to whoever had been still inside. Then Kerry saw a body covered in a white tarp a little further back behind the Mizutani, and his stomach turned.

“What happened to the driver of the grey car?” Kerry half-screamed at the cop, almost not recognizing his own voice, the noise of the traffic and his own heartbeat deafening. Only then he noticed she had her gun drawn, pointing it at him. But he did not budge, he couldn’t. He was too shocked by this entire scene.

“Sir, get back into your car, this is a crime scene!” the cop ordered, her voice shaky. Kerry couldn’t see her face behind her tactical visor, but she sounded very young still.

“What happened?” he yelled, his heart beating so fast he couldn’t think straight, he barely understood what she was saying and what was happening anymore. He turned back to face the wrecks.

“Don’t make me lose him like this, not like this…” he whispered to himself, hands on his head, clutching his hair, as his chest was about to explode.

One of the other cops at the scene noticed the commotion and sprinted over to help their younger colleague.

“Officer Riley, status report?” the cop asked loudly, her voice also muffled, but older, more seasoned sounding.

“I just wanna fuckin’ know what happened, how hard can it be?” Kerry snapped and turned back to the cops briefly, half tempted to climb over the makeshift barrier they’d set up.

“Sir, calm down,” the older cop ordered, “And Riley, put your gun down.”

The younger woman did as she was told but kept a close eye on Kerry regardless. The older one walked over to him, keeping her distance, but spoke to him directly.

“Are you a relative?” she asked sternly, but calm.

“The Quadra,” Kerry stammered, “It’s my… mainline’s car. He tried to call me less than half an hour ago…”

“Trauma Team came and picked him up only just,” the cop said, and Kerry finally managed to pull his eyes away from the wreckage to look at the cop, “He was injured, but not in a life-threatening manner as far as I’ve gathered. The shitheads that caused the accident had it much worse.”

“Where’d they take him?” Kerry asked breathlessly.

“Med Center just down the road. Now please move your vehicle out of the way!”

He sprinted back to his car, engine still running, then turned around tires screeching and sped off to the Med Center.

Everything was a blur. He didn’t remember how he got here, where he parked the car, or if he’d even turned the engine off this time, but by the time he burst into the lobby of the Med Center his mission was clear. The young guy behind the only currently available counter kept smiling but also visibly recoiled when Kerry slammed his hands on the desk.

“Can I help you –“ he stammered but Kerry was quicker.

“They just brought in someone, I need to get to him,” Kerry blurted out.

“Um, are you a relative?”

“Look it up, Vincent Ezaki. But he goes just by V,” Kerry ignored him.

“Isn’t that Kerry Eurodyne?” one of the other receptionists gasped, and several more heads turned into his direction, visitors and staff alike.

“Oh my god, yes! I was there for the premiere of ‘Off the Leash’!”

Kerry sighed. Anything for his fans, usually, but currently all that mattered to him was making sure V was okay.

“First person that fuckin’ tells me where the fuck V is and how to get to him gets a front row ticket for my next concert. Go!”

This was the fastest he’d ever gotten the information he needed at a hospital. Not even “my wife is in labor, where can I find her?” had worked as well as this. He’d had to keep that in mind for future reference. A med-tech was called and led him all the way to the correct floor – but then only to the visitor waiting area. Kerry grew angry again.

“No, I wanna see V, not sit around here like a useless piece of shit,�� he complained.

“Mr. Eurodyne, that’s not possible. Mr. Ezaki –“

“V,” Kerry immediately corrected her.

“… V is in treatment, and as a Trauma Team Platinum customer receiving the best medical care available. As soon as the doctors are done you can go and see him, but please let them do their work first.”

Kerry raked his mind for a witty reply, his pulse still racing at top speeds, so much so that his biomonitor had started to alert him of his blood pressure. He took another deep breath and forcefully swallowed down his anger.

“Can you tell me anythin’ at least?” he then asked as he slumped down on one of the free armchairs she had directed him to. The space was quiet and nicely decorated with fake flowers on dainty little tables and artworks on the walls, but it still felt pretty sterile. The tech pulled up a file on her data pad and skimmed through it briefly.

“Some broken bones, bruises, scratches. The most severe injury that is currently being looked into is a possible concussion. But he was conscious and talking to our team briefly before being brought in.”

Kerry couldn’t stop his leg from bouncing and he crossed his arms as he stared down the long hallway leading here, eyes fixated on the door that said “Staff Only” in bright red letters.

“Mr. Eurodyne,” the med-tech said, following his gaze, “Please be patient. Everything’s gonna be fine.”

She patted him on the shoulder, then slowly turned to leave. Kerry got up from his chair as soon as she was out of sight. He pondered lighting up a smoke right then and there to calm his nerves, but he didn’t want to get kicked out of two hospitals for the same thing. So instead, he started pacing again, up and down the hallway, trying to get rid of his nervous energy. The fact that V was somewhere behind this door, so close and yet so far, and him incapable of doing anything to help him, was torture. Eventually he sat back down again and pulled up his holo interface. He hadn’t even noticed Lee trying to call him a couple of times through all of this. He ignored him for a little while longer, instead pulled up V’s last voicemail message again. Received at 6.48 it said. Now it was almost 8. The accident must have happened minutes, if not moments after he’d tried to call. Kerry cursed. He listened to the message once more.

“I love you, Kerry, I hope you know that. ‘Cause I know I’ve been bad at showing it lately.”

If V had died wondering whether or not Kerry knew he loved him… After the messages he’d left this morning, it was no wonder. But knowing this was what was on his mind moments before some random Tygers almost killed him… it would have killed Kerry along with V.

They both sucked at showing their love for each other lately, each in their own way. They’d both been incredibly busy, V with this mysterious gig, Kerry with the new album, barely seeing each other some days. Whatever the reasons were for V withdrawing, it played right into Kerry’s fear of being abandoned once again. And him being snappy and mad and sarcastic played right into V switching into defense mode and withdrawing even more. They needed to work on their communication, desperately, but also… when they finally had some time for each other, just the two of them alone, serious talk like that was the last thing on their minds to blow off steam.

At 8pm sharp a small notification bleeped in the corner of Kerry’s peripheral. “Feed the cat” it said.

“Ah, crap…”

What use was an automatic feeder if you’d still have to refill it so often? While Kerry still pondered who to call to delegate this task to, Lee tried calling him again.

“Well, ya did this to yourself…” he mused as he picked up.

“Kerry!” Lee exclaimed with too much enthusiasm for Kerry’s current state of mind, “So happy to reach you, what I’ve been trying to tell you - …”

“Can ya do me a big solid, Lee?” Kerry interrupted him, “Swing by my Little China pad and feed the cat, would ya?”

“Oh, um…”

Kerry ended the call before Lee could finish his sentence. Something, something, the Crystal Palace, whatever. Kerry couldn’t care less about that stupid space station right now.

Another hour or so passed, and slowly but surely the last couple of nights’ sleep-deprivation began to kick in. Simultaneously he was still on edge, his patience wearing thin at the lack of updates and information, the utter bleakness of this hallway and seating area dragging Kerry down even more. He didn’t remember the last time he’d been in such a weird state of mind… almost as if he was drunk out of his mind while simultaneously high on something that shouldn’t be mixed with alcohol. Lee had given up on calling him, instead sent a photo of Nibbles eating, and a wall of text afterwards about whatever it was he’d been trying to tell him all evening. Right when Kerry got so bored out of his mind that he almost considered reading the text, the “Staff Only” door swung open. Immediately he was wide awake again, jumped out of his chair almost.

The med-tech from earlier was back, accompanied by what he assumed was a doctor, as she wore differently colored scrubs. That’s at least how you could tell them apart on TV shows.

“How is he?” Kerry asked, his voice coming out not nearly as confident as he’d have liked it to.

“He’s sleeping but doing good overall. We gave him some pretty strong painkillers that will keep him knocked out until tomorrow,” the tech explained.

Kerry sighed, relieved and exhausted, his head spinning slightly but in a good way finally.

“There was some minor damage to some of his implants that we could fix, and he will make a good recovery regarding any broken bones. There is something though I wanted to ask you about, as his emergency contact,” the doctor said and pulled up something on her data pad. Kerry’s first wave of euphoria dwindled at the sight of a brain scan with several large areas highlighted in red presented to him.

“He suffered a concussion during the accident. Standard procedure here is a thorough brain scan, but what we found was a lot worse than what the impact could have caused. So, not having his complete medical history on file currently, maybe you can give us some insight?”

Kerry interlocked his fingers behind his head, looking at the images only with reluctance.

“Y’know, I’m no expert on that stuff, dunno what’s everything s’pposed to look like even…” he said.

“We know that,” the med-tech chimed in calmly, gently putting a hand on Kerry’s back, “But are you aware of any past trauma or illness V went through that affects his nervous system?”

Kerry dropped his arms.

“Can I see?” he said, pointing at the data pad. The doctor handed it to him. Kerry flicked through the scans, actually very familiar with the sight. He was just startled time and time again by how severe V’s condition really was, having it laid out so clearly in front of him.

“Guess ya could say he’s quite ill, yeah,” he then explained quietly, “Had a bad injury about half a year back, followed up by… I don’t even know how to describe it. I just know things kinda kept getting worse after that, and still are.”

“An infection following the injury?” the doctor asked, and Kerry laughed weakly.

“Somethin’ like that, I guess. Been told his case is pretty unique. So far, no treatments available. He can explain it better than me.”

“Do you happen to have any more recent scans available? From other clinics?” the doctor asked.

“Dr. Fuentes is conducting a study on hard to cure diseases of the nervous system,” the med-tech explained, “It might be a long shot, but maybe, a few years down the road, there will be a treatment that could help someone like V.”

“He doesn’t have a few years,” Kerry said numbly, any sparks of hope flickering in the doctor’s words immediately extinguished by the timeframe they gave, “Months, at most, we’ve been told.”

“Even so,” Fuentes said firmly, “I would like to look into this. Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”

“Only V can decide that,” Kerry shrugged, “But yeah, there are recent scans. Pretty sure his Ripper has somethin’ from a couple months back. ‘bout a month and a half ago we had that brain specialist have a look, uhh… Wilson, or Williams or somethin’ like that, can give ya her number. If V agrees.”

“Of course,” Fuentes nodded, keeping up the friendly professional attitude. But something in her eyes told Kerry that she meant serious business. Kerry hadn’t decided yet if it was in a way he liked or not.

“Can I go see him now?” he just asked and handed back the data pad.

“Yes, of course,” the med-tech said and led Kerry deeper into the winding intestines of the Med Center. He’d really had enough of doctors. Not even for giving them false hope, no… for seeing V as not much more than an interesting and unique case to study and dissect like a high school science project. They weren’t interested in helping, they were interested in profiting of a dying man, in furthering their careers and agenda. What was a hospital if not just another corporation, and what was a doctor if not a corpo playing dress up with a white coat…

>> Next Chapter

[apocalypticdemon]

finally did my goddamn dishes. and that wasn't all i managed to do today. fuck yeah.

had a meeting for thesis prep. bmv trip. rough plan for friday's discussion lecture. cooked dinner for the first time in like 3 weeks. read ~50 pages of academic text for 2 classes and a paper revision.

feels like i didn't do enough but. considering that yesterday i managed... going to classes and nothing else! and monday i was only capable of doing the required meetings i had, this is a pretty good day!

[volivolition]

truly if anymr f t lttrs f my kybar brak tis inclus svral numbrs an n f t parntsis btw) im fr ral gnna run ut f kybins t rplac tm wit </

[truly if anymore of the letters of my keyboard break (this includes several numbers and one of the parenthesis btw) im for real gonna run out of keybinds to replace them with </3]

[kevin-sedai]

The vibe really deteriorated as the day went on, and now I'm sitting in bed, awake, feeling like garbage

[cerise-on-top]

Hiiii how are you doing love bug? I wanted to request something where farah notices spouse readers anxiety is high while there out at a celebration party thingy after a successful mission and helps them calm down

(Sorry if this is badly explained it’s my first time requesting something + I have adhd🫶🏻🫶🏻)

Hello! Don't worry, I got you! I hope this is what you wanted! I don't particularly know how to calm someone down, I can't even calm myself down usually, so I just swallow it all down until it goes away ^^;

Farah Senses Reader’s Anxiety

She would likely sense your anxiety as soon as she looked at you. Your eyes were wider open than usual, you’ve gone quiet, giving the occasional nod and smile and that’s it. Something was up, Farah knew you well enough by then to be able to tell. Yes, she may have been a highly coveted person at parties like these, but she could always make time for you, even while she was in the middle of a conversation with someone. As soon as you don’t seem to be doing well, don’t seem to be having fun anymore, she’ll take you somewhere quieter so she can talk to you and maybe help you calm down a bit.

Truth be told, Farah won’t particularly know what to do with you. Sure, she gets anxious at times as well, she leads an entire force, after all, but she usually calms herself down by taking a deep breath and sweeping all those negative thoughts under the rug. While it would be ridiculous to assume the same thing would work for you, she tries anyway. She may be good at building connections with other people, but she doesn’t particularly know how to calm someone down from severe anxiety. However, she will take your hands gently in hers, if you allow it, and will talk to you in the most tender tone you’ve ever heard from her. Her voice is audible still, but quieter than usual and she requests that you try to tune out everything else and only listen to her. While she won’t know what to say, she tries, talking about anything that comes to mind. The small lizard she saw on her way to the party, how she once was able to pet a bunny when she was small. Nice things that would take your mind off of the party. You will be leaving it soon enough, naturally, but before then, you need to calm down first.

If her distracting you doesn’t help, then she’ll try to breathe with you, gently asking you to breathe in, hold your breath for a few seconds, before breathing out again. This will be repeated a few times. If that doesn’t work either, then she will try the 54321 method. Granted, she doesn’t exactly know how it works and will mess it up. But who knows, maybe that will get you to laugh. Farah asks you to tell her what you’re seeing, hearing, feeling and so on and tries to crack jokes here and there to maybe get you to smile. Her attempt at distracting you from your anxiety still hasn’t ceased. Talks you through it all. However, if that doesn’t help either, then she’ll ask you what the source of your anxiety may be. If it’s the party then you’ll be going home immediately. Or, at the very least, get away from it as far as you can. If it’s something else then she’ll still try to help you somehow, reassuring you that she’ll do whatever she can to assist you. If it’s alright with you, then, after the party, you’ll go stargazing together. The vastness of the universe has always helped her calm down, and maybe she can tell you some stories she’s heard about the different constellations as well. Either way, she’ll be taking care of you as well as she can during the evening, until you calm down. And then you’ll be cuddling the night away, if you’re calm enough to want to be touched. Farah will hold you to her chest, hum a little lullaby and run her fingers through your hair.

[tblsomedoodles]

Little Morgan doodles

I had to watch some bullshit training videos at work so have some simple Morgans I drew to get me through it.

[essektheylyss]

Oh hey! Do you like stories about wlw and weird, convoluted forms of time travel? Do you like supporting queer folks making cool art? Did River Song rewire your brain as a teenager?

I wrote a short story called "A Practical Study of Time" for Baffling Magazine, a queer speculative fiction mag! It's published on Patreon, if you're interested in becoming a patron of a super neat lit mag—or it'll be on their site when their eleventh issue is published in April!

[prismatic-starstuff]

So I have A Few™️ ideas for things to write about Astarion; which would y'all like to see first?

[shikai-the-storyteller]

After took two weeks of ADHD self-sabbotage, I finally wrote the massive article I've been agonizing over for work (I wrote the entire thing in one sitting). I'm actually really happy with it, and it will never cease to amaze me how good of a writer I am when my brain actually cooperates with me.

[violetsareblue-selfships]

good morning!! <333