#22 year old heart attack

[coquelicoq]

yeah natori is 23 and since matoba is one year younger, he's 22 at the very start of the manga/anime :))) i think it was like around season 3 of natsume when i learned this and went ????????????? and had to go lie down for a while

unacceptable. midorikawa-sensei answer for your crimes. the thing that's killing me currently is i know i learned this information back when i read a bunch of fic after watching the show for the first time - which was less than a year ago - but apparently REPRESSED IT because it was sooo does not compute. and then had to learn it all over again just recently. my poor brain tried so hard to protect me from this knowledge but alas.

FREE THEM they're baby adults they should not have this kind of weight on their shoulders and have like. employees and shit!!! "oh look a dumbass teenager with a heart of gold. how about i protect him with my life" HOW ABOUT YOU WORRY ABOUT YOURSELF YOU MAN-SIZED CATERPILLAR!!! they need to be in their cocoon era not in their head-of-the-family life-and-death-decision-making era. when you're 22 you're legally obligated to make questionable life choices and it seems self-evident you should not have to be forming lifelong contracts with supernatural beings until after you've gotten some of that out of your system but WHAT DO I KNOW, i'm just a thirtysomething with over a decade on natori who still does the modern-day equivalent of unplugging my answering machine so people can't leave me cursed voicemails. i look back on my 23yo self and i want to cry from how much she was learning and how hard she was trying. i love her so much it breaks my heart. stop putting these young men into situations they need to be in situations but maybe ones less fraught with mortal consequences. maybe some situations more along the lines of figuring out the hard way not to buy dryclean-only shirts because who has time to go to the drycleaners? that's just one idea, i've got more of these. midorikawa-sensei are you listening??

[bilal-salah0]

Waiting in endless lines to secure some food or water, fending off disease-carrying insects, and enduring the suffocating summer heat in a makeshift tent; This is what our children's lives have been reduced to.

My family is still trapped in Gaza going through unbearable levels of hardship, completely cut off from the world, malnourished, thirsty and exhausted, and still in mortal danger every minute of every day.

The last airstrike that targeted the camps in Mawassi khan Yunis hit almost near their tent. They barely made it. My heart sank when I heard of the attack and I started frantically calling everyone but none of them answered. Fortunately, my brother later called and said they miraculously survived but it could have been worse. The sound of the bombing was so close; the babies and the kids started crying. Omar was shivering from fear. I was relieved that they had survived but I kept asking myself.

What if they don't next time?! What will become of them if the borders are not opened soon enough?!

Will our babies become numbers and statistics on phone screens?!

Please help me look after them and keep them as safe as possible until they get the chance to evacuate 🙏

we have currently reached €60,837 out of €70,000 our aim.

I truly believe we can make it and achieve our goal thanks to your generosity.

Please keep donating and reblogging. Every single contribution is crucial to my family's very survival!

[intersex-support]

Help an intersex family in Gaza!

Hi everyone. I'd like to share about a fundraiser that is very important to me. A good friend of mine is in contact with the organizers.

(Described in alt).

Their story:

"Hello, my name is Abeer. I'm organizing this fundraising campaign from Belgium on behalf of my family, who currently live in Gaza. 

Since October 7, all families in Gaza have been subjected to genocide. My family is one of those families that has had to flee its own home several times because of the threat of regular attacks. 

After two months, my family decided to return home and take the risk of being bombed at any moment rather than stay in the street. Our 4-floor building now contains over 100 people who have fled from different parts of Gaza. We always open our hearts for our own people, but we can't do it without your help and support. 

My parents, Kamal (53) and Moukaram (51), are suffering from the war because of their age and health. My brother Suliman, his wife Rawan Abualnaja and their two-year-old daughter Bisan are trying to stay strong, but it's complicated by their little daughter's enormous needs. My other siblings who are not married are Mohammed 25, Inas 22, Ibrahim 17, Abdallah 15.

My family medical condition during the war:

My father suffers from delusional disorders. He can't work or help my family financially. Mohammed and Ibrahim suffer from a chronic disease, congenital adrenal hyperplasia. It is difficult for them to obtain medication in Gaza. One of their medicines has not been available in Gaza for two years. During the war, they couldn't get their medicines because they simply didn't exist anymore. My family members are still suffering. They don't want to be potential victims. They want to escape death and live like other families on the planet.

 On 01/01/2024, they attacked the local mosque and the missile failed to explode and ended up in front of my family's house. My family is in danger and the missile will explode any second.

Since then, my family has decided to be evacuated from Gaza because of the senseless attack on our city. Please help me evacuate my family to Egypt so that they can rebuild their lives in peace.

I've been in Belgium for over five years. I feel useless because I haven't been able to do much except try to help them with their daily living expenses. That's why we created this campaign. We're raising funds to evacuate my family to Egypt, a place that offers a glimmer of hope and stability. However, the cost of the evacuation is high, hence our call for crowdfunding.

Every contribution makes a difference The funds we raise will be used for :

- Evacuation from Gaza for both families (Rafah border crossing fees for 9 people total)  - Two months of temporary living expenses in Egypt, including food, shelter, and transportation  - Passport fees  - Food expences untill they leave Gaza 

No matter how small your contribution, it can make all the difference in breaking the cycle of violence and uncertainty. By supporting our campaign, you are offering a lifeline to our families so that they can rebuild their lives, heal from their trauma and make a fresh start in a safe and secure environment. Please leave a comment and share our campaign with your friends, so we can reach more people and make a bigger impact. Together, we can make a difference!"

They are using a French platform called Papayoux Solidarite instead of GoFundMe. Abeer also has a Paypal account for non European donors.

They are currently at 33 588,78 €/ 50,000 €.

Let's see if we can get them to 34,000 today. Any donation matters, even $1 or $2 donations can add up.

We need to help them meet their goal. Intersex liberation means intersex liberation everywhere--it is so important that we show up in solidarity. Those of us living with CAH know how dangerous salt wasting crises are without medication, and how important it is to urgently help Mohammed and Ibrahim get access to the medications they need to support their CAH. Intersex solidarity means that we need to show up and support intersex people facing genocide.

If you can't donate, please share. Consider doing an art raffle to raise money. Do whatever you can to help this family because it is urgent, and we need to act in solidarity with them now and make sure that the intersex community is here to support them!

[mavigator]

(UPDATED!!!) here are some people that have reached out to me recently with their fundraisers. LINKS IN NAMES. status as of 09/19/24. i've checked that all fundraisers listed here are vetted.

Abedalrahman Alhabil (€83,683/€120,000) -- Abedalrahman, his parents, and his five siblings were displaced when an Israeli attack destroyed their home. Abedalrahman's father is in urgent need of evacuation and surgery, as he suffers from chronic heart disease and high blood pressure. (@abdullahgaza) 69% of goal reached. INCREDIBLY SLOW PROGRESS.

Asmaa Ayyad (€20,911/€45,000) -- Asmaa and her family of eight were displaced when their homes were destroyed by Israel. They need funds to evacuate to Egypt before they suffer any more loss. (@asmaayyad) 46% of goal reached.

Hashem Al-Shawish -- (€10,097/€45,000) Hashem's wife, Samer, recently gave birth to their baby, Omar, in a tent. Omar has already needed emergency medical attention as a result of poor living conditions. He, along with Hashem's mother, wife, four brothers, and two sisters need funds to evacuate. (blog terminated. can't find new one.) 22% of goal reached. INCREDIBLY SLOW PROGRESS.

Doaa Jad Al Haq -- (kr212,156/kr300,000) -- Doaa and her 5-year-old autistic son, Omar, evacuated to Sweden, but Omar was extremely traumatized by the horrors in Gaza. He needs treatment so he can recover. In addition, evacuation funds are needed for the members of Doaa's family that are still trapped in Gaza, including 11 children and her father, who has been incapacitated by a stroke. (@doaaomar1234) 71% of goal reached.

Aya Alanqar -- (€12,831/€15,000) Aya and her husband Jihad need funds to evacuate themselves and their three young children (Abdelrahman, 7 years old, Jori, 5 years old, and Adam, 2 years old). Their home was destroyed by Israel and they have been forced to move over thirteen times. (blog deleted. can't find new one.) 86% of goal reached.

Muhammad Shehab -- (€10,514/€25,000) Muhammad desperately needs funds to evacuate himself and his sons, Zaen and Yahya, from Gaza. They have already been displaced nine times and are at risk every day. (@zeanyahya1) 41% of goal reached. INCREDIBLY SLOW PROGRESS.

The Shehab family -- (€55,957/€85,000) This family's original goal of 50,000 has been reached, but has now been raised to 85,000 as the family has added more people to their fundraiser (as they can't make their own), including a 3-month old baby. Please continue to support this family!! (@danashehab) 66% of goal reached.

Mahmoud Al-Sharif -- ($10,503/$60,000) Mahmoud's wife, Soha, just gave birth to her and Mahmoud's fourth child on 8/12/24. Please please help this family of six, including the newborn, get to safety. (@mahmoud-sharif) 17% of goal reached. INCREDIBLY SLOW PROGRESS.

SHARE AND DONATE !! remember that even a small amount can go a long way.

[e-nonsense]

Request for batfam x estranged daughter who looks like Batdad's mom Martha💔 she's more independent and has been raised by her mother's family who she is extremely close with, but when it comes to Bruce’s side of her fam she gets awkward and shy cuz she never really interacted with them and doesn't know how to approach them which leads to misunderstandings and angsty setbacks in bonding time. But for whatever reason, she gets along great with Damian and Stephanie as if they've been friends for years. Which causes everyone else to feel left out and a bit jealous when they see the trio hanging out having a good time.

𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗦𝗧 𝗢𝗙 𝗔 𝗟𝗢𝗡𝗚 𝗚𝗢𝗡𝗘 𝗪𝗢𝗠𝗔𝗡

pairing. Batfamily x batsis!reader, slight Dick Grayson x reader

summary. Reader looks startling alike to Bruce’s deceased mother, Martha Wayne.

warnings. swearing, platonic jealousy, mentions of death, horrible parenting (its Bruce), reader is like crazy rich, reader is also 22 and dick is 26. NOT PROOFREAD

authors notes. hope this is what you envisioned. no part 2 so don’t ask

wc. 1.4k

It was Alfred who made the mistake first. Accidently calling you Martha first. He couldn’t help it, you just look so much like her.

Of course he apologised right after and then nearly had a heart attack when you smiled reassuringly, “its fine Alfred.”

A kind heart to match the face of a woman long gone. The elderly man just nodded in response, deciding too keep his mouth shut from then on.

Then it was Bruce. He completely froze the day he met you, froze and stared like a creep. “Holy shit—“ He was immediately cut off by your mother’s glare at him swearing in front of you. “Sorry.”

That day went on with you being shy and awkward around him and Dick —his newly adopted son— who didn’t seem to have any interest in you at all.

“Bruce Wayne,” the man kneels in the get to eye level with a twelve year old you.

“Uh—“ you found yourself string at your mother nervously, only deciding to utter your name after she nods.

Bruce tries to smile —could you see the way his smile didn’t reach his eyes?— at you, “pretty name.”

That was the first time he had seen you, and the last — unless you count the little run ins you’ve had over the years— until ten years later. You were twenty-two, and looked even more like his deceased mother than before.

Bruce found himself watching as you gave Damian tips on the perfect brush stroke to get a texture that would look more like a cloud on canvas.

You nod and smile —one of those encouraging smiles his mother (Martha) used to give him when he got something right— “that’s it. Just try to get lighter towards the end, gives it that fluffy feeling.”

When you had decided to contact Bruce yourself ten years later it had caught him off guard but he agreed. He watched as Damian took to you immediately, the ten year old boy milking you for that motherly affection he never got from his own mother.

The validation when you pat his head and smile at him proudly at his minor achievements, something was child's play to him and yet you were so proud because of it.

The warmth you gave when you smiled in encouragement, or when you’d chuckle softly at his annoyance about one of his brothers. His brothers, not yours as well. You didn’t Bruce’s other wards as siblings, they hadn’t tried to reach out to you so you decided not to bother them with trying as well.

You were nice not stupid.

Stephanie walked into the art room you and Damian had filled with art pieces. You chuckled when the younger girl groaned and draped her arms around you, whining about some inconvenience she had been victim to earlier in the day.

You patted her head and chuckled when Damian scowled at the blonde girl, “get off her you mongrel.”

“Damian,” you say sternly and the young boy huffs before going back to painting clouds. You dragged both yourself and Stephanie towards the couch in the corner of the art filled room and listened as she whined about her day. How Bruce had scolded her about a mistake she made on the field, a minor mistake that even who would make from time to time.

You saw the tears of frustration brimming in the girls eyes and you sigh. “It’s alright Steph,” you hum softly as the girl presses her face into your shoulder.

If Damian hears the blondes sniffles he ignores it, leaving the comforting to you.

None of you speak of Stephanie’s breakdown after it happened. Opting to ignore it afterwards and move on.

Dinner later is chattier than usual, both Damian and Stephanie sitting on either side of you, giving the other member of the family zero chance to gain your attention.

Across from you sat Dick Grayson, who tried to gain your attention but continuously failed so decided to annoy his other brothers. You’re attention is finally somewhere else when Jason growls in annoyance at something Bruce had said.

“It’s for kids Bruce,” Jason seems to be seething. “Children who don’t have the luxury of getting a meal everyday.”

“I can’t trust that the money will actually go into that cause Jason,” Bruce simply sighs. You frown at that, for the first time you speak up.

“Sorry to intrude, but what are you arguing about?” Your voice isn’t timid or soft, it’s stern and had an authority quality that has Jason looking at you in shock before replying.

“Charity thing I’m tryna do,” he begins to explain. “Wanted some money to buy an empty warehouse and build a place that serves food on a daily basis to homeless people.”

You hum in response, “it’s a good idea.”

Jason beams at the praise, “thank you.” And you smile in response, “how much do you need?”

The question catches everyone off guard, “sorry?”

“How much, it’s a good idea and I’d like to help.” You ask and Jason nods.

“Well i wanted it in a good area in Gotham, might help relocate people and stuff.” You nod taking in his words. “$300,000. I need that much.”

Jason shrugs nervously as you think it through, “done.” You smile slightly, “call me if you need anymore though. I’d be happy to help.”

Jason stares at you like you’re some kind of saint, “where are you going to even get that kind of money?” He asks nervously, surely this was too good to be true. You barely knew him, why would you give up that much money so easily.

You chuckle in response, “my dad’s rich.” You pause before adding, “the man my Ma married I mean.”

“So is my Ma,” you shrug. “I inherited it all when they retired.” Jason blinks a few times, as if trying to determine if you’re actually real.

“So would you say you’re richer than Bruce?” Tim asks and you glance over at him before shrugging. “Maybe? I dunno.”

Bruce watches from the head of the table, “she is.”

You raise a brow at that, “stalking my bank account or something?”

Bruce chuckles and shakes his head, “no. But I know your father and he’s been years ahead of me for a long time.” You snort in response, “sounds like him alright.”

The rest of dinner passes and you go back to talking to Damian and Stephanie. Jason watches you three from his seat beside Dick. “Why does she only talk to them?”

Dick pauses to look at Jason and puts his fork back down onto the plate, before glancing over at you who seemed to be nodding along to whatever Damian was saying.

“Dunno,” he shrugged. “To be fair we haven’t tried to exactly reach out to her as much either.”

Jason hummed in response, “demon brats a bit attached to her though.. don’t you think?”

“Guess so, pretty sure he looks up to her.” Dick says to Jason before moving his fork towards his mouth. “Like a motherly figure or something.”

Jason snorts and Tim looks over at them, “funny. He’s got two of his siblings substituting as parental figures.”

Tim chokes on his food before laughing, “now that you’ve said it.”

Dick rolls his eyes and chuckles, “leave the kid alone. He got a shitty deal of parents.” Jason snickers but he doesn’t deny it.

Dinner finishes quickly after that, and they watch as you let Damian drag you away, Stephanie following closely behind. “You must meet batcow.” Damian says before leaning in closer to you, to whisper in your ear, “Don’t tell father but there are ducks in my room.”

You wink at him and nod, “our secret then.”

The rest of the night passes and Damian is asleep by the end of it. You find yourself back at the front door, slipping your coat on deciding to go home. “Leaving?”

You turn around quickly to see Dick Grayson, an amused look on his face and a small smile playing on his lips. “I am too,” he shrugs approaching you and reaching for his jacket. “I’ll walk you,” he offers and when you nod he grins outstretching his hand.

Nervously you take his hand in yours and let him pull you along towards the front door, “I know a great view.. I could take you?”

You smile and shrug, leaving the decision to him, “guess we’re going then. I’ll warn you though it high up and its Gotham so don’t expect it to be too pretty.”

You chuckle and he keens at the sound, he finds himself wanting to hear it again, and again, and again.

“I won’t get my hopes up then,” you smile up at him.

He grins and leads you out of the manor and onto the streets of Gotham, that coincidently happened to quite peaceful that night. He silently thanked Bruce for fucking up again, he wouldn’t get this chance if he hadn’t.

© e-nonsense. do no copy/steal/translate. do it and I’ll bite your toes off

[missviviii]

a/n: zayne my boo <3 im sobbing over the fact that the game killed off mc’s grandma and caleb 😭

.

ミ★ Love & Deep Space ミ★

pairing: zayne x fem!reader

warning(s): mentions of death, mentions of the explosion that killed mc’s grandma + childhood best friend (caleb) in game, spoilers(?)

Summary: Ever since that day, you’ve fallen in a deep, dark pit. Why did you have to be the one that they decide to destroy? Why did Caleb and Grandma have to die? Is it your fault they did? Zayne, as your primary care physician and a family friend, is concerned for your well-being.

“Sometimes, a small gesture is all it takes.”

The sound of the news on your TV, the thundering rain outside, the sound of the cars driving by your apartment—it all blurs out as you stared at the TV screen, eyes dead and unfocused on the news of the Wanderers attacking and the explosions. Some 22 casualties, two deaths. Grandma and Caleb. His necklace that you bought him as a goodbye gift when he left for the Aerospace Academy sits beside a picture of you, him, and Grandma on the coffee table, the cheerful smiles making you wished that you could revisit time.

Your apartment, once somewhat organized and clean, is now messy with things being knocked down and dirty dishes long discarded. You stare at the one last thing your Grandma left for you, some..tablet(?) with a final letter on it. You haven’t gotten the energy or the ability to open it. It pains you, seeing that you haven’t visited for so long yet when you do, this was the time her house had to explode right in front of you, flames engulfing the house and the only thing that remained was Caleb’s necklace.

“I miss you, Grandma..” You mumbled to nobody, rubbing the tears threatening to spill out your eyes as you glanced down at the item she left you with. Besides that, a small box of her old recipes of those notecards, and other small things that she had entrusted to you years before.

Around you was your laptop, papers and files on the latest Wanderer attacks around you. Yes, Captain Jenna dismissed you and said that you should take some days off to regain your energy, since you haven’t been getting the sleep or the energy you needed, but you just couldn’t.

Your door opened, yet you didn’t bother to look at who entered. “Still sitting in front of the TV?” A familiar voice spoke out, flipping the light switch on and shutting the door behind him. It was Zayne, a long time family friend and your primary care physician. “You haven’t eaten,” he bluntly says as he sets a bag of food on your table and walked into the kitchen. He bites back a sigh, knowing that you were going through a tough time, and people tended to discard everything and grieve and grieve their hearts out.

“Hello to you too, Zayne,” you replied as you shut off the news and got up off your sofa. You pile up all the papers and files you’ve scattered around and set them on the coffee table before you walk into the kitchen as Zayne is cleaning up your dirty dishes. He checks in on you whenever he’s free or when he’s off his shift. He looks back at you, only making a small hum of acknowledgment before cleaning up your dirty kitchen. You looked terrible—eyes red and puffy from crying, obvious eye bags, and the sparkles from your eyes were gone.

You yawn as you take out a bowl and some utensils for whatever food he brought in for you. You unpacked the bag as he cleaned up the dishes you couldn’t bother doing last week. Potatoes, avocado on the side, tuna salad, salmon and rice you said to yourself as you took out the food that he had carefully backed in those plastic containers for you. Then you took out the last thing. Cookie..dough? He remembered your favorite childhood snack. The kind of cookie dough you liked.

“Your grandma gave me a recipe for the cookie dough. She said that if she couldn’t make it, I should since it lightens your mood,” Zayne says as he puts your clean dishes back into the cabinet. He dries his hand off before walking over to you, watching how you stare at it like a piece of gold. Disbelief and shock were etched on your face.

Zayne puts his hand on your back, soothingly rubbing circles as you opened the container and took a bite. Your eyes almost brimmed with tears again. You could remember how your grandma used to bake in the kitchen and you’d always sneak a bite or two of the cookie dough, no care in the world if you could get salmonella.

“Thank..you, Zayne,” you finally said, turning around tightly hugging him. He was a bit hesitant at first, but he put his hand on your head, massaging your scalp as he looked down at you with a gentle look on his face.

“..You’re welcome. I miss her too.”

Zayne’s eyes looked away at the picture on the counter of your grandma. She didn’t have to go out this way.

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

The Good Omens Season 2 Soundtrack! 😍❤🎵

The Soundtrack CD has wonderful cover and pics and look at the brilliant booklet! :D When you open it it looks like a box with a fly! :D

Options :):

(best to use the local store of course :), the Silva Screen page is thewebpage of the recording company)

CD:

Silva Screen 15.99 €

Amazon.co.uk £10.99

Amazon.com $30.79

Vinyl:

Silva Screen 39.99 €

Amazon.com $53.99

Digital:

Silva Screen 10.99 €

More digital listening options :) (some free)

Episode description and Track Listing :):

CHAPTER 1: THE ARRIVAL - Retired angel Aziraphale and retired demon Crowley's lives are upended when a visitor arrives on the doorstep of Aziraphale's bookshop, bringing chaos. Local shopkeepers Maggie and Nina get locked in to Nina's coffee shop when Crowley loses his temper. Heaven and Hell are suspicious, and Crowley and Aziraphale have a disagreement.

1. Before the Beginning 2. Good Omens 2 Opening Title 3. Into Soho 4. Something Terrible 5. To The Bookshop 6. Maggie and Nina 7. He’s Smoking 8. Tiny Miracle 9. Heavenly Alarm Bells

CHAPTER 2: THE CLUE featuring the minisode A COMPANION TO OWLS - Heaven and Hell are determined to find the missing angel. An overheard song provides Aziraphale with a Clue. Crowley and Aziraphale visit the pub to discuss ways that humans fall in love. While almost 5,000 years ago Crowley is sent to inflict punishments on the righteous Job, God's favourite person, as Aziraphale learns at first hand about temptation, and what Gabriel will and won't believe.

10. Avaunt! 11. The Song is the Clue 12. It’s What God Wants 13. A Mighty Wind 14. Whales 15. Gabriel Returns 16. His New Children 17. Am I Awful Now? 18. Fallen Angel

CHAPTER 3: I KNOW WHERE I'M GOING featuring the minisode THE RESURRECTIONISTS - Heaven sends the angel Muriel in disguise to spy on Aziraphale and Crowley. Aziraphale drives to Edinburgh in pursuit of his Clue, and learns a little about a lot. The couple's visit to Edinburgh in 1827 involves graverobbery, a statue and an unfortunate encounter with a vial of laudanum. In the present, Crowley is in charge of the bookshop, and is disappointed by human beings and the weather.

19. Police Arrive 20. Scotland 21. We’re Going to Hell 22. People Get a Choice 23. My Car is Not Yellow 24. Beelzebub in Hell 25. The Book 26. The Fly 27. Mr. Dalrymple 28. We Need to Cut 29. I’m Going to Save Her 30. Crowley Goes Large 31. Not Kind 32. Beelzebub Isn’t Happy

CHAPTER 4: THE HITCHHIKER featuring the minisode NAZI ZOMBIE FLESHEATERS - Aziraphale's good deed of picking up a hitchhiker on his way back to Soho proves to be a serious mistake. In 1941 Crowley and Aziraphale encounter some surprising adversaries, old and new, as the Nazi spies who almost entrapped Aziraphale return as zombies from the dead, intent on preventing him from attempting a bullet catch on the West End stage.

33. Hell-O 34. Nazi Zombies 35. March of the Nazi Zombies 36. Crowley Pep Talk 37. The Magic Shop 38. Catch The Bullet 39. Zombies in the Dressing Room

CHAPTER 5: THE BALL - Aziraphale tries to bring Maggie and Nina together by organising a meeting of the Whickber Street Shopkeepers and Street Traders Association. In Hell, Shax is determined to launch a full scale attack on the bookshop, with a legion of demons at her command. Nina's heart is broken, as is a bookshop window. Gabriel has a close encounter with Mrs Sandwich and a small plate of cakes.

40. I’ll Let You Have It 41. We’re Storming a Book Shop 42. Monsieur Azirophale 43. The Candelabra 44. Here Comes Hell 45. Gabriel Gives Himself Up 46. Shax 47. The Circle

CHAPTER 6: EVERY DAY - Crowley becomes a Heavenly bee and learns the truth about the Armageddon sequel. Aziraphale defends his bookshop from Shax's army and reveals his halo, Maggie and Nina become warriors, and Jim the assistant bookseller gets some hot chocolate. Crowley and Aziraphale get to the bottom of the mystery of the Matchbox. The Metatron brings an oat milk latte, along with a final offer.

48. Bin Through the Window 49. Gabriel Leaving Heaven 50. The Halo 51. Gabriel Revealed 52. Gabriel’s Love Story 53. Leaving The Bookshop 54. Gabriel and Beelzebub 55. Crowley and Muriel 56. I Forgive You 57. Don’t Bother 58. The Biggest Decision 59. The End?

The vinyl should look like this :) (damn, it gorgeous toooo! :D):

[amywritesthings]

silver underground. | chapter 22

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 5k Summary: the past and present; levi's version Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - flashbacks, levi's pov, graphic imagery, sickness, medical conversations, panic / paranoia, mentions / canon divergence of the recently published 'bad boy' chapter (extra warnings under the cut)

Previous Chapter. / Next Chapter. | Masterlist.

CHAPTER 22.

note: there is a presumed major character death in this chapter. please do not read if you are not in the right headspace for this content. mental health first xo

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

He can’t shake the adrenaline.

Kinetic energy thrums through his veins, destroying his focus.

For the fifth time since he returned to headquarters, Levi’s hands dip generously into the pool of ice-cold sink water in the corner of his bedroom.

His wrists flick up, quick, to splash it across his face like the whiplash sting will somehow calm the fever in his heart.

A sixth time.

A seventh.

He’ll keep going until that look on your face from the forest is wiped from his mind.

(Until he stops thinking of the before, when he wasn't enough.)

His lungs constrict as he forces himself to breathe, slow and steady, though the exhales exit like strangled gasps.

White knuckles resign themselves to the mouth of the sink as he leans in. His shoulder blades detangle themselves, sorting out the tension, while his eyes wearily stare at his reflection from the watery mirror below.

I know you, you said.

Of course you know him.

You said a long time ago you’d always know him, as if he’s an extension of your arm leading directly to the beat of your very heart.

How could I forget someone like you? you'd muse. If anything, you'd forget me.

(As if that was ever a fucking option.)

When you were just kids wasting away in the bitterness of the Underground City, you likened yourself to a shadow following Levi’s every footstep.

How could you look at yourself as a shadow when you were always the only light in his goddamn life?

You may not remember everything that's happened to you, everything that's made you, but Levi has silently volunteered to carry every burden in the interim.

Yours and his.

Up a hill, down a slope, through the mud, against raging snow — he'll carry the essence of you until you come back.

Because he was there.

For most, if not all, of it, he was there.

Twin fingers, reaching high for the stream of morning sunlight.

Shoulder to shoulder in a mess of sheets; you swore you’d never get over the sensation — the warmth of the light.

He'd never forget.

Levi would come to know warmth far better than the sun above — like the ghost of smile peppered over your lips.

He rolled over to selfishly block your view.

You were better than the goddamn sun, he'd quickly come to realize for himself.

He'd never forget.

"Can you believe there's really a world out there like this that can be real?" you murmured into the hollow of his throat as he peppered a crown of kisses against your forehead.

That the two of you could lay on a mattress easily fitting the both of you, not threatening to cave in on itself.

That you both could live this secret life, as Captain and Lieutenant, until you were old and gray.

For a second he so foolishly believed you could, too.

In comparison to the Underground, the surface could be considered paradise.

Maybe still hell on earth in its own right, sure, but at least it wasn’t a life buried in a tomb.

The vibrant green of the trees. The dirt that didn’t always stink of rot. The endless blue sky above.

Warmth was a comfort so many took for granted.

You knew. You both knew.

Caked sweat and congealed blood. Green bruises and busted lips. An abyss of gray, nothingness.

That's what he understood best.

 — especially after she died.

His mother; the first concept he had of the sun.

And for the short few years she was alive, she was radiant. 

The withering city wasn’t so bad under her wing, even if the men who berated and belittled her were. 

Levi vowed he’d grow strong enough, brave enough, to make sure one day they wouldn’t have to live in a cramped space surviving on the niceties of traded goods — bodies for money, lies for survival.

Then Kenny entered his life and everything became violent.

Bared teeth and closed fists. Selfishness and territories.

Mine, mine, mine.

Except it was all his — that bastard took every damn cent he could make off of him and then some, oftentimes working him to the bone.

(You got a meanness, boy. Meanness that can’t be taught. No, that’s deep in your blood.)

And Levi believed him.

He believed him because no matter how easy it could’ve been to lie down and die, to maybe one day see his mother at the end of his dining table again, he was fully prepared to do whatever he had to in order to survive. 

To endure. 

To come out on top and never let anyone — not even Kenny the Ripper — destroy him.

Because he had memories to hold onto. 

People.

The rest of the world may have forgotten his mother, but Levi refused.

Hell, it was his only driving force.

He might have known violence, it may have infected his blood, but he wouldn’t lose his humanity and disappoint her.

And when Kenny set him up for a betting fight, usually it was with men twice his size and triple his age.

Little kids were never on the roster, but you — you were an exception.

New, but just as ferocious.

A girl, sure, but you landed the punches on him so many others couldn’t.

He remembers the way your neck felt under his bony fingers. How your teeth clenched together. How you growled like a feral animal.

One more second of that fight and you would have been able to overtake his lead — he was too busy staring, searching.

Memorizing someone who had endured, too.

You said you were a shadow.

Levi knew shadows.

If you were a shadow, then maybe he would've ignored you.

Maybe he would have left you the hell alone.

(Because at the end of the day, all of this is his fault. The memory loss, the injuries — all of it.)

After the gun fired and the crowd scrambled, Levi couldn’t leave you well-enough alone.

He couldn’t let you find your own way in the maze of a miserable mausoleum where your bodies would eventually find peace together, perhaps even side by side.

All Levi could do was selfishly keep tabs, watch your fights, see that piece of shit you called Mother berate and harass you in the comfort of alleyways hidden from plain sight.

If you didn’t die in the rings, then chances are she would have sold you off — resigning you to live out the rest of your days like his mother.

He saw the way the world was cruel to her.

He’d be damned if he didn’t stop the world from being cruel to you.

So at the end of the day, yeah, it’s all his fault.

If he hadn’t convinced you to join his two-person operation all those years ago;

If he had pushed you harder before the final job to hate him;

If he had figured out a loophole in Erwin’s ignorance of what you are to him to push you into another division that wasn’t the goddamn Scouts, claiming disruption or inciting violence—

If, if, if—

So many possibilities, so many scenarios, where he holds your fate so selfishly against his own chest in fear of dissolving it.

Yet he was so willing to finally let you go.

To do the right thing now that you’re on the surface.

Now that you are free.

An invisible string that gleams crimson is tied to his ring finger.

It dips under the sink and snakes across the wooden floorboards of his bedroom, into the hallway, and straight to you.

If only he had caught you the first time.

If only.

.

.

.

.

.

.

  In the aftermath of falling straight to the forest floor, dust kicks up all around him, invading his lungs and choking him out.

It burns, but it doesn't deter him.

Here he has only one objective.

One goal.

“James?”

He calls your name, hoping to hear something.

Anything.

The only sound that answers is the bristle of the tree branches above.

A scene so ghastly concludes with serenity and the weightless chirps of birds.

Coughing, Levi swipes at the cloud of dirt with his hands, dropping his dulled blade to the earth.

It clunks as violently as he’s moving, scrambling to find your silhouette anywhere in this goddamn mess.

"C'mon, damn it," he growls to himself, swiping at the murky air.

One step, then another.

You can't be far.

He'd fallen down with you, trying to break both of your falls, but the momentum was far too great.

At the last second, he rolled away from you thinking you'd lean in and follow.

You did not follow.

—then he sees it.

You’re not vertical, head up and feet outstretched in a daze.

You’re horizontal, lying face-down in the dirt.

Motionless.

“James?!”

Levi repeats your name, louder this time, before nearly vomiting from how much debris he’s inhaled.

He wretches, arm wrapped around his stomach, teeth grit.

He manages to get ahold of himself, to stave off the sickness, before he drops to the ground and crawls to you on hands and knees like a child.

“James, hey—”

The world stops, then and there.

You don't move. You don't respond.

His hand halts in a hover over your body, painfully aware that he cannot pull you upright carelessly.

It's so quiet down here.

Quiet, as if...

Slowly his watering eyes widen, his mind going to the place where logic can follow.

“...James,” he murmurs, voice dissolving. 

He decides to then scoop the once-hovering hand to inch it under your wrapped emerald cloak. His other hand cradles the back of your neck, mindful of the worst case scenario.

The sickening heaviness of your body greets him as he turns you over, carefully, to find your lips parted and eyes closed.

He can't tell if you're breathing.

You look like you're sleeping.

No.

No, this isn't what it looks like.

“James, shit, wake up—”

His words crack, throat dry.

“Wake up.”

Louder this time, like anger might jolt you.

Where he goes, you’re meant to follow. 

You’ll follow his voice. You’ll follow it and you’ll wake up and he’ll never forget how you scared the living shit out of him.

(Even if he will eventually forgive you for dedicating your fucking heart to a cause you didn’t even believe in.)

Logic battles with emotion.

Reality fights with fate.

Cradling the back of your head with immense care, Levi takes action and head ducks to press against your chest, desperate to find —

There.

It’s faint, but a heartbeat is still there.

“Don't do this,” he pleads under his breath. “Don’t you up and fucking quit on me now. I know you can hear me.”

The wheeze of overworked gear flies past his head in a semi-circle.

Several boots land to his west, hasty in their descent.

Luckily his head is turned to the east.

(He can hide the growing terror from his squad. He can buy himself more time to harness his panic and push it away.)

“Captain?” It’s Eld, wasting no time to rush over. He hears the quick taps of his boots running right for him. “Captain, what the hell happened?”

“James?!” Petra yelps, and he can hear Oluo gasp with finality.

No.

No, you aren’t dying.

Not today. Not tomorrow.

“Wait, don’t,” Gunther interjects suddenly.

Levi assumes it’s to keep the rest of the squad back from crowding the scene.

The blonde scout drops to his knees beside his captain, panting heavily. Levi can smell the stench of sweat and exertion radiating from his uniform.

“Captain Levi,” Eld urges once more.

“We have to get her back to the Walls," he forces himself to say, voice steady.

Levi lifts his head with practiced precision.

He meets Eld's worried gaze with a deadened stare.

"Is she...?"

"Her heartbeat is faint," Levi answers the question Eld doesn't have to finish, "but it’s there.”

Eld's face falls.

Levi hates it.

I just said it's there, damn it. Don't consider her dead. Don't.

“She saved us!”

A meek voice peeks out from behind Eld's back.

Levi Squad turns in unison — a well-oiled machine built for crisis — to find Miro Squad riding to the clearing with the extra horses.

The entire squad looks haunted, worse for wear, but they still stayed.

They still fought to the bitter end.

Like true Scouts.

Miro hops off of their horse, running over to the group first.

“Several titans attacked us. If it wasn't for the Lieutenant, we would have all been eaten alive. Please, if we can help in any way, we owe her.”

They bow as one of the other shaken Scouts pulls Levi's horse by the reins from around the back of the formation.

“Sir, Scout Rini is a doctor," Miro continues.

“A doctor?” Oluo blurts incredulously. “Out here? In the field?”

“Formerly a doctor,” Rini anxiously states while dismounting from his horse, "before I joined the cause. I — I would say I could treat her here, but there’s nothing I can do. Too much blood loss. If we can get her inside the Walls—”

“Are we going to keep wasting time talking?” Levi growls, glaring daggers at the rest of the group. “I’m not letting her bleed the hell out. Help me get her on my horse.”

No one hesitates.

Both squads rush to his aid, lifting you with utmost care.

Twenty pairs of hands and ten bodies working in tandem to make sure they don’t jostle your neck or hurt your spine.

The captain only lets go of you to hoist himself up on his black stallion, before bringing you close to his body in a side-saddle.

He can ride one-armed and keep you steady.

He refuses to believe otherwise. 

Because Levi sees it on their faces — beyond the faintest breath against his hand, there’s next to no indicators that you’ll survive.

But they don’t know you.

Not like he knows you.

“Don’t you die on me,” he murmurs against the crown of your head, lips close enough to count as a kiss.

Then he’s off.

He speeds off like a bullet on his horse, crouching over with his jaw so clenched he can feel his teeth nearly cracking.

Forward. His only goal is to push forward — past the trees, past the old villages, and doesn’t stop to look back.

“You’re not allowed to die.”

From this distance the other won't be able to hear, but you might. So he keeps talking.

Come back to me.

“Still got all that shit you wanted to do up here, right? You remember that?”

Levi wishes you could answer.

He wants to believe you would if you could.

“You still gotta get those dumbass cats of yours. You know how many of those filthy things are on the streets? You can fill an entire fucking house for all I care.”

Anything.

He’ll do anything, at this point.

“Didn’t give me a chance to… to find a damn house, to figure everything out—”

A whole world left to discover.

(You asked for his last name. A last name worth nothing, yet somehow it still held something for you. God damn it, he’d give you that last fucking name in every lifetime so long as he could still keep you in this one.)

He stops speaking when Gunther and Eld take it upon themselves to push their horses to their limits, flying past him.

They surge forward in their journey to the nearing Walls, determined to carve a seamless entrance for Levi to enter. 

Eld leans back and holds an arm up high, shooting off a red flare for the Garrison Regiment stationed at the perimeter to see:

Danger.

(Once they reached the gates, they could explain everything. A red flare is enough for now.)

Flicking his wrist to snap the reins, his horse picks up the pace and gallops harder.

Levi pulls you into his chest, ignoring the tremble in his limbs.

From fear or adrenaline. 

From both.

“We have an injured Scout, but she’s still alive!” Eld shouts to the Garrison Regiment above with an urgency Levi’s never heard from the typically stoic man. “We need a wagon and medics, now!”

Between the flare and Eld’s command, the action is already set in motion.

The gears churn, slowly opening the large stone gate just enough for humans to clear in passing. 

Eld and Gunther are first.

Levi, not far after. 

The others, including Miro Squad, arrive seconds later.

Several Garrison soldiers pull up to the gate with a wagon suitable for approximately eight, maybe ten people.

Levi continues to hold you protectively to his chest as they prepare, cradling your neck with the utmost care.

One false move and the light goes out. 

(He knows how easy it is to take a human life.)

“Levi!”

He hears the wail of Hange’s voice in the midst of the panic.

His eyes search for them in the commotion, body stonelike, only to spy their unruly ponytail flying in the wind — with Moblit not far behind.

And...

Commander Erwin?

The tall blonde causes the crowd to divide in half, shoulders adorned with the Scout emeralds.

Hange and Moblit look just as horrified as he feels.

They run right up to the side of his horse calling your name, but their voices are all but mumbles to him.

Not when Erwin’s eyes bore into his.

Although the commander's expression is one of stone, Levi can sense what Erwin wants to say.

Unspoken deja vu; they’ve seen how this played out before.

Except this time, Levi has you in one piece.

He made it back this time.

He didn't forsake you.

(And he isn’t letting a titan take you from him. Not like Isabel. Not like Furlan.)

“Levi, what happened?!”

Hange rips him out of his trance, bringing him back to gruesome reality.

Medics finally arrive on the scene. Below him he can see Scout Rini directing them, immediately stepping back into his former occupation with ease.

On the sidelines, the remainder of Miro Squad huddles together.

Eyes watery and body trembling, some cry into their hands.

Some hide their faces in the shoulders of their comrades.

She’s not dead yet, he wants to snap at them. Don’t act like she’s gone. Not yet.

(If he repeats it enough, then can he make the impossible true?)

“She played hero, that’s what fucking happened," Levi seethes after he manages to find his voice, forcing it not to crack. "Saved a goddamn squad on her own against orders. She needs a doctor. I don’t know—”

“They need to take her, Levi,” Hange interrupts with an understanding softness in their tone. “Let her go.”

The captain’s under eye trembles.

“I’m going with her on the—”

“You will,” Hange promises, nodding quickly, “but you have to let her go so they can start working — before it’s too late.”

They're right.

The medics are waiting, just on the other side to receive her.

Slowly Levi unfurls his arms, one by one, and helps gently transfer you to the people he's entrusting your life to.

As soon as you're off of his lap, however, Levi swivels his legs off of his horse to follow suit.

Hange’s eyes widen as he dismounts, but Levi’s too busy watching them set you down in a sea of blankets and gauze. 

“Levi, your shirt. It’s…”

Briefly he turns his chin to glance up at his comrade, registering what they're saying before looking down:

Maroon.

Deep, deep maroon.

His once-white button down is stained with a mixture of grimy dirt and blood.

“It isn’t mine," is all he can think of saying back.

Hange's expression shifts in seconds, a certain slant of pity he hates witnessing.

He doesn't have the energy to fight Hange, Erwin, any of them.

Not when he has to get to you.

He has to stay with you no matter what.

With that statement lingering in the air, Levi abandons Hange to trudge over to the wagon. In one swift motion, the captain hops over the siding of the transport.

His knees fall just above your head, settling in place for the ride to the hospital.

Most of the medics are too busy ripping up your uniform to check for deep gashes and broken bones, documenting them as they gear up to leave, but a few glance at Levi with uncomfortable shock.

Then one brave soul speaks.

“Sir, we’ll need you to stay back.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Levi firmly states.

“But it—”

“The wagon fits ten. If you have a problem with it, we can talk later. She's on my squad.”

She's my responsibility, damn it, and I'm failing her.

The wagon dips once again in newfound weight, and a pair of knees come into view.

On the other side of James’ head rests Hange.

“I’m going, too," Hange states firmly.

Levi can feel his expression smoothing, one of reluctant gratitude.

He catches the sentiment, buries the emotion down his throat, and drops his chin to focus on James.

“C’mon, c’mon!" they shout to the medics for him. "Let’s go! We can't waste anymore time, damn it!”

With Hange’s order, the wagon takes off. 

In the initial jolt, Levi abruptly reaches both of his bloodied palms to rest on either side of your head, keeping it in place as the horses run the wagon to the Trost hospital.

The medics and Doctor Rini continue working amongst themselves, with Hange on the ledge observing.

Seconds feel like hours.

It's agony.

“We’re almost there,” he murmurs under his breath, to you and you alone. “Just a little longer, alright? We’re in the Walls. You went back and saved almost an entire squad by yourself, you overachieving piece of shit. So don’t give up now, damn it. Keep fighting.”

Despite not being alone this time, the captain is unwilling to stop talking for a single moment.

He can sense Hange’s eyes boring down the back of his neck, but he doesn’t care for decorum.

He doesn’t give a shit if this brings more questions at his front door.

This may be your last few moments with him.

So he won’t leave.

(He never left Mom, and he sure as fuck isn’t leaving you.)

“She’ll need extensive surgery.” 

A rogue murmur catches his attention.

When Levi looks up, he sees one of the medics addressing the doctor scout. Gravity brings a grimace to her face. 

A second medic frowns. “Do you think she’s going to—”

“Don’t say it,” Rini replies softly. “What she needs is our undivided attention. This is a Lieutenant of the Scouts, and she saved my life. Treat her life as your highest priority.”

Levi decides to say nothing.

There is nothing to be said — no argument will change the outcome.

As the wagon finally arrives at Trost medical, they’re received by staff with a gurney.

They begin prepping you to be transferred, but—

In a flurry, Hange gasps and leaps out of their seat to fiddle with your neck.

The sudden touch completely throws him off, causing him to protectively curl around you.

“The hell are you doing?”

“Her necklace, Levi,” Hange swiftly states, their own voice shaking. “The doctors could break it during surgery. You know she’d never let us live it down if they destroy it.”

His heart seizes.

Hange’s act of kindness isn’t lost on him.

You loved that damn thing. 

No, you love.

You’re still there.

It isn’t just a mere memory yet.

Belatedly nodding, the dark-haired man clears his throat. "Yeah, she'd be pissed."

"I thought so," Hange exhales, finally detaching the clasps.

It's the first time he's seen you without it since you were teenagers.

(Doesn't look right, being off your neck like that.)

Eventually the medics successfully transfer you to the awaiting gurney.

Without another word to Hange or himself, the team dedicating to saving your life run into the building.

Everything was a flurry until there was nothing.

Silence.

Levi’s shoulders slump as he’s forced to watch you disappear from his sight.

There wasn’t a chance to save Furlan or Isabel.

They’d been destroyed, limb from limb, before he could stop it from happening.

He’d managed to get you this far, but…

Now it was out of his hands.

His fists clench, determined to keep your blood close, protected, in his palms.

(Helpless.)

“Do you want to hold it for her?”

Hange’s voice enters his mind as he slowly turns his chin, blue-grey eyes finding the taller scout frowning.

Their eyes are glassy in a way he refuses.

Mourning.

Slowly they extend their arm, unfurling their fingers.

A lump forms in the middle of his throat at the sight of the glittering silver in their palm, the pendant still just as beautiful as the day you accepted his gift.

“Keep it, Four Eyes, and give it back to her when she wakes up.”

(If he touches it, then you might actually disappear. He already possesses enough keepsakes from the dead with a self-inflicted burden to carry them all. The world may have forgotten them, but he hasn’t. He won’t.)

“Levi…”

“She’s going to live, Hange.” 

Whether he says it to convince Hange or himself, Levi doesn’t know. Perhaps it’s for both of them.

He knows how much they adore you.

He’s no stranger to the fact that you’ve made your own home outside of him — they love you as much as he loves you.

“She’s a fighter. Always been once, ever since we were kids.”

The lack of shock in Hange’s gaze makes him wonder how much you’ve told them about the two of you.

“She’ll fight tooth and nail to get the hell back here.”

“I know she will,” Hange laments.

A blanket of silence envelops them as they continue to wait for any news outside of the hospital, together.

The longer he waits, the closer he feels to being ten years old again.

Alone.

So fucking along and so goddamn terrified to wait for the truth.

Because it’s either one or the other.

You live, or your story ends.

Levi inhales, holding his breath.

And holds.

And holds, childishly wishing it could be enough for the both of you.

Like if he doesn’t let go until you gasp for life, then he can save you.

He can keep you.

.

.

.

.

.

.

  He finally exhales, giving in to the collapse of his shoulders.

He can’t save you, just as much as he can’t keep you.

Levi knows this.

He’s known it since the second you woke up in that hospital bed without an ounce of warmth in those eyes of yours.

That was when he made his choice to leave you be, to give you a running shot at the life the two of you had always talked about.

He thought one day was grueling.

Impossible.

One day became one week.

One week into months.

He stayed away, but at what cost?

He hasn’t slept right in this bed.

He barely eats.

He opts to show his face at the mess hall with his standard cup of black tea to keep up the appearances.

If the real you died that day, then he was certain he died right alongside you.

Now, within six agonizing months, you’ve saved yourself — chose yourself — to still somehow end up right back where he left you.

(That kiss, tattooed with the permanence of the loss of you, still burns his lips from yesterday.)

You might remember.

You might know who you really are.

You might know him.

The sink below rattles.

It takes a second, but when he shifts his dissociative stare to his thumb, he notes the tremble.

He grips tighter, squeezing, before giving up. He pushes away from it altogether, cradling his forearm to suppress it himself. 

Focus.

Find your sanity and ease it back.

Maybe you won’t say what he wants to hear, but he promised like a fool.

Don’t push me away. Don’t shut me out.

I won't, he promised. I’ll never.

Hearing the horses whinny to a halt outside, he scrubs his face with his hand and chooses to turn on a heel to stalk towards the door.

He’ll scope out how everyone’s doing, make a cup of tea, mull all this shit over—

Then he opens his door to your face.

You stand before him, hand raised like you were about to knock.

Frozen in time just like he feels.

James.

Levi can’t feign indifference when he stares back at you, not when it’s almost unsettling how much more… you, you look right now. 

Life radiates from a dead body. You’re not apologetic in getting caught, just apologetic that you nearly slammed the knuckles of your fist into his face.

For a moment, there’s silence. 

He can hear the other scouts talking amongst themselves downstairs.

And before he can say a word, you speak.

“Can we please—”

“Yeah.”

He doesn’t let you finish.

There’s no reason.

Rip the bandage off the congealed blood.

Call it a day, if he is meant to lose it all.

His hand extends the door on its hinge, inviting space for you.

“Yeah, might as well.”

You step in, and Levi prepares for the worst.

.

author's note: a lot of you had asked for levi's pov on the events that went down, and i've been waiting to get his side of the story.

thank you for reading the final few chapters of this journey. you are all so very wonderful for the encouragement, the engagement, etc. on both here and ao3. i hope all of my rebloggers have a good night's sleep and a little treat; you are the soul of this story.

[slayagami]

𐙚 synopsis: after losing consciousness in a villain attack, you wake up 2 and a half years later in the hospital. the time doesn't feel long to you, so adjusting to the new updates takes you by surprise. like your boyfriend of 2 years, izuku midoriya, apologizing that he found love elsewhere, in your best friend ochaco uraraka. you find refuge and comfort in your old friend todoroki, who visited you everyday you were out. does new love blossom or do you fight for midoriya back?

𐙚 pairing: midoriya x afab!reader x todoroki

𐙚 warnings:: mild violence, cursing, cheating?, love triangle-ish, angst to fluff, slow burn, friends to lovers, depression, nonchalant reader but over thinker, reader struggles expressing emotions, characters are 22

𐙚 readers quirk: poison arrow. can appear a bow and produce arrows that are ingested with poison that can temporarily paralyze or slow down the movement of who was shot. effects lasts roughly 20 minutes but depending on the victim, possible to move but will be slowed down. quirk allows the reader to have sharp sight, and can see farther and more clearer than most. reader has to train to shoot arrows more accurately. strength of poison depends on readers emotions. hero name: artemis.

𐙚 a/n: slow writer </3 SO SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT im such a slow and unmotivated writer but thanks for being patient and im sorry if this sucks or is short! also went ahead and added to the tags, included people who were interested in the second part! 3.03k words! [previous] [next]

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° m.list ! ┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° mha m.list ! ┊ love again

you left the hospital in daze, bitterly rethinking of the harsh words from midoriya, reliving the uncharacteristic look in ochaco’s eyes. the thing that bugged you the most is the raw emotion in his viridescent irises, the way his eyes told you so much but was trapped. like he was under control. and it pained you, because you knew he wouldn’t be with ochaco if he didnt love her. he must be confused. you wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but every time you tried reasoning with yourself you became pressed and bothered, eyebrows bunching together in discomfort. it was his choice to leave, his choice to move on, his choice not to wait. that underlying fact should’ve been enough for you to ration, but your heart weighed over your reasonability.

you walked aimlessly, taking in the change of scenery. it was winter now, or at least the cusp, as trees bare nakedly from the ground, the wind blowing coldly across the tip of your nose. it grew a hue of pink as well as your ears, and you silently cursed the hospital for allowing you to walk off without warmer clothes — or even a blanket. you took in the newer buildings that were placed around, or the updated shops that took over some hole-in-wall restaurants. it felt so familiar to you, holding a sense of nostalgia, even if it wasn’t all that long ago.

your feet carried you a long way, sniffling ever so slightly as the run of your nose. you glanced up at the penthouse in front of you, neck craning to eye up the several stories it compiled. you heart pinged, migraine oncoming. this place felt familiar, and it was almost at the tip of your tongue, but i felt like your body knew where to take you. knew where you’d find comfort. knew where you’d feel safe. grudgingly you stepped forward into the building, hair blowing in several directions at the different air pressures. only then did the penthouse look familiar, the lobby remaining the same as it did years ago when todoroki first moved in, asking you for help with some boxes and casual hang outs. you dragged your feet to the lobby, allowing your body and faint memory to recollect the door your friend lived behind. a funny number to you, something so easily remembered. 808. eighth floor, eighth room. you remember always commenting how the numbers looked like a silly face, a face that could be used as an emoticon during texting.

you tried your best not to stand out, sinking your head lower and sliding your hands in your pockets, slipping into an elevator, though thankfully it was empty. the numbers glowed softly, changing as it passed each floor with a soft ‘ding’. you rocked on the balls of your heels, roughed up black and white converse your parents had left you fit snugly with a double knotted tie. your eyes watched the numbers, slowly growing anxious. you haven’t seen todoroki in — for him — two and a half years. the last time you remember seeing him before the hospital was moving into this penthouse, carrying boxes with yaoyaorozu. oh yeah, you remembered, nodding to yourself, he was dating yaoyaorozu last time i was here. the elevator dinged softly, the speaker muffling a short announcement as the doors shifted open. your feet stepped onto the hardwood floor, turning a hard right and letting your feet carry you to his room, large ceilings aligned with marvelous paintings and chandeliers. you remember gawking at it when you first visited his place too, hopelessly praying you were able to achieve a living space like this too.

you didn’t even know if he was home or not. if he had work, or was on an errand run. you didnt think about much, just knowing you wanted the comfort of your friend, wanting to let him know you were awake finally with your own words. a gentle knock hit the wooden door, eyes glancing down to the doormat with a faded ‘welcome’ message on it, some stains of red pressed on the corners. it was quiet, no noise or rustle, no television or mumbling. maybe he wasnt home. your teeth nibbled at the bottom plump of your lips, the nervous feeling growing increasingly worse. maybe i should leave? you sighed and spun around, lowering your head as you walked off, hands back into your pockets. you made it about halfway down the hallway before the soft sound of the door unlocking filled the air, the gentle pull from the door with a quiet squeak. you froze, not knowing if you should turn around or keep going. but the familiar voice rang in your ears so softly, and you knew exactly why your body aimless took you here in the first place.

“excuse me? what that you knocking?” you can gear the tired croak in his voice fighting back a yawn, “did you need anything?” your body turned slowly, feet picking up as you walked towards him excitedly, that nervous feeling from earlier gone. his eyes met yours, the bi-colored orbs widening with shock, lips parting ever so slightly. for him, time had completely stopped. in fact, todoroki could’ve sworn he was still asleep, replaying a dream he had often of being able to see you again. seeing the radiance that covered your face, the way your arms were outstretched in a hug. but it felt so real he swore if he woke up, the whole world might as well burn.

your body collides with his, pushing him back a few steps before his head catches rest on top of your shoulder, perfectly fit in the crane of your neck. his arms held you tightly at the waist, your own arms circling around his shoulders and neck, sniffles and pants reaching his ears. he was shocked, obviously, but stayed in the hug, not daring to move an inch. the familiar hospital spent fills his nostrils with a weird ease, his hands softly rubbing the small of your back as you sobbed. he knew now this wasn’t a dream, far too real to be. and as happy and relieved he is to see you, he cant help the worried pain he feels as the shirt on his shoulder grows more and more wet, your chest heavily heaving as you hugged him and sobbed.

after giving you the time to recuperate, he invited you inside his home, bending down softly to help you unlace your worn out converse, a hand holding leverage on your shin as the other tugged gently at the shoe. you stood there, surprisingly unfazed, using your forearm to wipe any tears from your eyes while your flushed nose sniffled here and there. with your pearly white socks now stepping onto the soft carpet of his home, a cold hand tugs your wrist to lead you to his grey couch, expectant eyes finding your face.

he had so many questions to ask, so many things that filled his brain on what to say and what he wanted you to know, but he just stared. he let you take your time. let you breathe. the sincerity of his entirety made your eyes water once more, chest puffing out whiney sobs while you laid ur head on his shoulder, a hand holding onto his forearm. it was such a domestic hold, so natural between the two. though your cries were too important for him to worry about anything else at the moment.

you gulped inaudibly, taking a small breath. you began to slowly tell him everything. the moment you woke up, seeing your parents show physical signs of aging, midoriya rushing in, the stupid look in his green eyes, uraraka expecting you to give her your blessing, and finally not even being able to remember the fight you were involved with in the first place. time did not feel long to you, which is why its even harder to understand how much things have changed.

the entirety of the situation felt completely unfair.

shoto hummed softly, letting you talk it out to him. he felt the grip on his arm grow strong as the topic of your now-ex-boyfriend came up, his own feelings getting twisted inside his heart. seeing you cry over someone like him making a stupid decision, he wished to comfort you in a domestic manner yet refrained.

"i need to tell my supervisor i need a break. and to switch me to a different agency. there's no way i can still work with izuku after this." another hum, his back sinking into the couch. "do you have any ideas where you want to go? or how long you plan to take your break for?"

you sighed, the thought of it all already giving you a headache. your yawn filled the small silence, before responding. "agency? no clue. someone who wants me to become the best version of myself and not only wanting me to make their company look better." another yawn, your eyes growing heavy. "i need to consult with my doctor since i can't strain myself for a while anyways. gotta see what she recommends me, first."

todoroki nodded in understanding, noticing the change in demeanor. his blue blanket was folded on the arm rest of the couch, inching away from you slowly to not disturb you. he reached out for the blanket and slowly laid it over to your body. he muttered softly, telling you to lay down and that you should rest before you decide to go home.

"today was tough, so take a quick nap to replenish your energy. don't worry, I'll still be here when you wake up."

warmth enveloped you on a soft cushion, a light weight draped over your body making it unbearably hard to wake up. but with a groan straining out your throat and scrunch of your face, your eyes peered open slowly to look at the familiar apartment. the room smelled of some kind of soup, the broth being enough to make your mouth water. you glanced down at the suspect of the newly added weight to your body, a red blanket on top of your figure. it was weighted, along with a fluffy white cat balled up at your feet. in the kitchen, was todoroki. you can hear the clash of metals as she shuffled through various pots, placing them as quietly as he could on the stove, yet the smallest noise still ringing through the apartment. it felt homey. and it made you feel guilty. todoroki was important to you, but so was izuku. spending the night here, feeling and finding comfort in him, waiting patiently as he cooked you some dinner, it all felt wrong. you still felt the unbearable tie between your ex, and even though your brain finally understood that things were different, and that time has changed, your heart reminds you otherwise.

your hands picked up the ball of fluff at your feet, cradling the tiny baby in your arms to ease your mind. it purred softly, nudging its head into your fingers, its heterochromatic eyes of blue and green peering up. your socked feet scuffed its way towards the kitchen, watching fondly as todoroki lifted the ladle of broth to his mouth, taste testing his soup concoction. he winced at the taste, almost in disbelief at what he tried. who knows how long he's been trying to make this. with a stifled laugh, you offer to help.

"do you even know how to cook? let me taste it and I'll tell you what you need!" for being a pro-hero, him not noticing your presence was a little silly. he jumped a little but played it off, eyeing you softly. the cat meowed, jumping out of your hands and onto the floor effortlessly, rubbing itself on todoroki. it was a cute scene, his cheeks a pale pink and his ears flushed, the soft purrs of his cat and the disheveled wrinkles of his shirt was so cute. cute? oh, the guilty feeling is back again. your smile faltered as you walk to the pot, taking whatever leftover broth was in the ladle into your mouth to taste. you had the same reaction as him, grimacing in distaste. it was so bland, like, uncharacteristically bland. and watery? and.. missing every single spice needed to make it flavorful. you giggled, lifting yourself on the tips of your toes to reach into his cabinet, pulling out every spice needed and some other ones you wanted to try.

you spent the rest of the night cooking the soup, engaging in another game of catch-up over the past two years you were in the hospital. he mentioned the newer stores that opened near your home, or the stores that closed down recently or changed locations. because, of course he would remember all your favorite locations. he kept tabs on probably everything you had an interest in. he wasn't sure if that was good or bad, though. you listened intently nonetheless, nodding in understanding or gasping at the new news. he gave you updates about your friends, how mina went abroad to model for a partnership, or how bakugou actually mellowed out for once. he wasn't as invested in you guys' friends as he was about the things in your life, so there wasn't too much said, thought he said as much as he knew.

"oh, and yaoyaorozu? last I remembered you guys were together, no? we helped you move in here!" right. yaoayorou. he refrained from saying much about her. things didn't end well with her, and to be completely honest, he was to blame for it all. with an uneasy look, he pet his cat in his arms. shoto looked over the digital clock on the wall, 1:29 am. the story was far too long to explain. but he knew neither of you were tired. but if he explained it all, would you view him differently? he bit his lip in thought, uncertain and nervous.

"we broke up not too long after you were in the hospital." he breathed, allowing himself to get comfortable in the solace of his couch. "she said I was invested in everything but her, and that I never acted like a boyfriend to her but a.. placeholder." his blue and grey eyes peer in your direction, your orbs wide but focused, taking in the new information. you didn't want to believe though, you always believed shoto would have been a great boyfriend.

"she said that? im sorry for asking about it, but I'm sure you weren't as bad as she claims. maybe you guys were compatible, to she wanted more than you could give, y'know?" you tried to reassure him, but a part of it only made him feel guilty. he pressed on, thanking you gently while he continued his story.

"I visited you in the hospital every day, for several hours at a time. I went when I woke up before my shift, I went after, I went on my days off, I went on lunch breaks. I sat in the hospital chair, talking to you and sharing a meal more than I ever did with yaoyaorozu. My life had completely revolved around your well-being and it made her upset, rightfully so. I was never intimate with her, we hardly ever slept in the same bed. Our conversations were bland unless you happened to be brought up. Only then did I become interested, or it ended up in an argument. She said if I cared for you so much then why was I even bothering with her?"

the long tangent had you shocked, feeling the irresistible heat crawl up the back of your neck to your cheeks and ears, a hand covering your mouth as you watched him. he sunk further into the couch, almost sulkingly, clinging onto the white cat on his chest. maybe it was the lack of sleep, or the magic of being up late into the night, but he continued to talk and speak nothing but the truth. as bare and open as it was.

"I think my whole life has always been about you. but you were interested in midoriya. I figured it would have been a smarter move to move on from you since you were with him. and since yaoyaorou was the only person who could've been an option I half hazardly chose her and practically exploited her feelings for me to form a relationship, just to find closure in some one-sided feelings. that's why I visited you often in the hospital, and cut all ties with midoriya and ochaco when all those articles came out."

another look at the clock read 2:33am, before his eyes landed on yours. wet, big, and full of raw emotions. you let out a small sob, before sniffling and wiping your face, the faintest blush your nose. you scooted closer, laughing.

"if you say all that, I can't help but feel bad for yaoyaorozu. I can't imagine how that must've felt, for both of you. but i won't take your feelings lightly. give me some time, okay? things are complicated for me, too. if im being honest, hearing you say all those things makes me beyond happy, its almost embarrassing. but my conscious can't help but feel guilty, I still feel tied to izuku. I mean, just the other day in my timeline we were talking about marriage. then I wake up and find out hes with my best friend." your hands reach out towards the cat as well, scratching the top of her head as she purred, your fingers brushing up against todoroki's every now and then, before he decide to holds your fingers between his, his ow eyes never leaving your face as you spoke.

"I want to take your feelings with honesty. so just give me a little more time, okay?" even though the wallowing pain of guilt still continued to eat at you, you persevered and kissed the softness of his pale cheek, his face flaming up in red. he nodded meekly, giving your hand a squeeze.

"of course, anything for you."

tag list

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[specialmedicalcentre]

Irina recently arrived at SMC's Emergency Department with a paramedic crew. She is now stirring in her ER bed in some discomfort. She is confused and frightened. The head emergency nurse tells her brief story.

"The patient is a 22-year-old female who arrived in an ambulance, unconscious, with symptoms of possible heart attack or stroke. She had been complaining of dizziness and light-headedness, and her breathing was labored. She lost consciousness while the paramedics were attending to her. When she arrived at SMC-ED she was breathing on her own."

Once safely at SMC, Irina was placed in an ER bed and hooked up to blood pressure and pulse monitors and had EKG leads attached. Her street clothes were removed and she was catheterized and fitted with a hospital diaper for sanitation and comfort. A blue patient ID tag was placed on her.

(The nursing staff has temporarily placed Irina's bra back on for her privacy and discretion.)

Irina awoke very recently and did not know why she was here or why she was attached to all the machines. She is stable for now, and the SMC ED team will be evaluating her condition and recommending further tests.

=====

SMC's home is on deviantart: https://www.deviantart.com/specialmedicalcentre

Visit us on pixiv for anime-style visual storytelling: https://www.pixiv.net/en/users/100327986

Connect to SMC on Twitter/X: twitter/special_medical

[crystalis]

thread by Arnesa Buljušmić-Kustura

Apr 5, 2024

Today marks the anniversary of the Siege of Sarajevo. The “official” start of the Bosnian Genocide.

Almost 4 years of being cut off from the world, from food and water and electricity. 4 years of daily shelling, bombing, and terrorising campaigns of the city and its residents.

Today is a particularly painful day and in the next 6 months, we will have an anniversary after anniversary after anniversary of the various massacres and horrors that were inflicted on us throughout the Bosnian Genocide.

I was just a child when the Siege of Sarajevo started. The peaceful neighbourhood I once played in was suddenly surrounded and shelled daily. Sniper attacks became common place. Every day you heard news of someone being killed. Someone you knew. Someone you loved.

One of my most vivid memories of the Siege of Sarajevo is my great-grandmother. She was a fiery spirit and I was her favourite human. Her heart gave out when she found out her son had died. I always think she would’ve lived another 10 years had there been no genocide.

The residents of Sarajevo were shot at when they’d be collecting water. When they were in line to get bread and aid. When they’d attempt to get to a hospital. In hospitals. In schools. In libraries. There was nowhere that was fully safe.

On a daily basis, the Serb forces would average of approximately 329 shell impacts per day during the course of the siege, with a maximum of 3,777 on 22 July 1993. The city’s streets, homes, buildings, hospitals, govt and historical buildings were all targeted and destroyed.

Over 13,000 people were killed in the Siege, and over 1600 of them were children. Of the estimated 65,000 to 80,000 children in the city, at least 40% had been directly shot at by snipers; 51% had seen someone killed; 39% had seen one or more family members killed…

19% of the children in Sarajevo had witnessed a massacre; 48% had their home occupied by someone else; 73% had their home attacked or shelled; and 89% had lived in underground shelters.

Today, as I reflect on the Siege of Sarajevo…I cannot help but think of the parallels and similarities with the atrocities occurring during the Siege on Gaza. Over 13,000 children had been killed during these past 7 months.

The Siege of Sarajevo resulted in the deaths of two uncles, my godmother who was a Serb and was killed by Serb forces, my grandmother who was killed when she was making breakfast and her home was attacked by Serb forces. My neighbours, my friends, and countless others.

There is not a day in my life in which I do not recall the horrors we endured. There is not a day in my life in which I do not curse those who destroyed my childhood and my innocence. When I was 5 years old, a Serbian sniper shot at me….a child. I survived thanks to my neighbour.

It has been over 30 years since the Siege of Sarajevo started. A 4 year long campaign of terror, genocide, and destruction. The world knew. The world saw. The world stayed quiet. They refused to allow us to defend ourselves. They said that “Bosnia did not belong” in Europe.

Our pain and suffering became an easily exploitable topic for the politicians, journalists, academics to build their careers off of. To this day, many only have a career because of the Bosnian Genocide. Yet, when it was the worst for us…they watched and allowed it to happen.

The Bosnian Genocide did not need to happen. As all genocides, it could have been prevented. & now they tell us to “remember the past” and they say to “never forget” while they allow the same to happen to Palestinians.

I cannot look at the photos coming out of Gaza and not see Sarajevo in it. Their pain is all too similar to our pain. Yet the International Community, once again, seems intent to ensure that the past repeats itself.

& I cannot help but feel that just as much as they believed that “Bosnia did not belong” and therefore allowed the genocide and horrors to continue for 4 long years….they feel the same about Palestine. To them: we “do not belong”. Our deaths are just a bloody stain on their tvs.

So today I spend my day praying for those we lost in the Siege of Sarajevo and throughout the Bosnian Genocide, I will pray that the world wakes up and sees that they are allowing the past to repeat in Palestine.

May we never forget the beautiful souls whose lives were taken and destroyed, in the name of ethnonationalism and fascism. In Sarajevo, throughout Bosnia. In Gaza. Throughout Palestine.

[thatsonemorbidcorvid]

Murphy’s death was just the latest in a seemingly endless, parade of crimes against women that have horrified the country.

Two weeks after Murphy went missing, another woman was killed in Ballarat, a city with a population of just over 100,000, in a separate and unrelated case. Rebecca Young, a 42-year-old mother of five, was allegedly killed by her partner in a suspected murder-suicide.

On 5 April, in bushland near Ballarat, a car was set on fire. Inside it, police found the body of a 23-year-old named Hannah McGuire. Her ex-partner has been charged with her murder…

On 22 April: 28-year-old Molly Ticehurst; 23 April: 49-year-old Emma Bates; 26 April: 30-year-old Erica Hay; 29 April: 78-year-old Joan Drane.

It was the death of Samantha Murphy that prompted a sense that something in Australia was very wrong.

The 51-year-old mother of three left her home in Ballarat in regional Victoria to go for a jog at around 7am on a Sunday morning in early February and did not return.

Murphy was not the first woman to be killed in Australia this year, she was the twelfth. The country followed along as police conducted extensive searches of bushland near her home, appealed for information and released CCTV showing her setting off for her run wearing exercise gear, and with blonde hair pulled back into a messy ponytail.

More than one month later, police arrested and charged a 22-year-old man with her murder. Her body has still not been found.

Murphy’s death was just the latest in a seemingly endless, parade of crimes against women that have horrified the country.

Two weeks after Murphy went missing, another woman was killed in Ballarat, a city with a population of just over 100,000, in a separate and unrelated case. Rebecca Young, a 42-year-old mother of five, was allegedly killed by her partner in a suspected murder-suicide.

On 5 April, in bushland near Ballarat, a car was set on fire. Inside it, police found the body of a 23-year-old named Hannah McGuire.

Her ex-partner has been charged with her murder. The deaths are all separate and unrelated. Here, in the space of two months was another death of another woman in the same small city.

The grief bubbled over, prompting an urgent conversation about violence against women and what will be done about it. Especially pressing is the situation faced by Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander women, who are disproportionately affected by family and domestic violence.

On 12 April, hundreds of Ballarat residents marched in the streets holding signs asking for the names of the women to be remembered and demanding action to end violence against women.

And then, the next day, on a balmy autumn Saturday afternoon in Sydney, a man entered a shopping centre in Bondi Junction armed with a knife. He murdered six people, five of them women. Twelve people, including eight women, were injured, including a nine-month-old baby girl whose mother was murdered in the attack.

Police announced they would investigate whether the killer, who was shot dead by police, had deliberately targeted women and children. But it seemed they had already reached a conclusion on that matter, with the New South Wales police commissioner Karen Webb, saying videos of the attack “speak for themselves”.

“It’s obvious to me … that the offender had focused on women and avoided the men,” she said.

There were vigils; surfers made a heart with their boards out past the break at Bondi beach; the prime minister granted residency to two men who had fended off the attacker and praised the heroism of the female police officer who – without backup – chased the murderer through the centre and when he lunged at her with his knife, shot him dead.

And still the deaths did not stop.

On 22 April: 28-year-old Molly Ticehurst; 23 April: 49-year-old Emma Bates; 26 April: 30-year-old Erica Hay; 29 April: 78-year-old Joan Drane.

And with the relentless drumbeat, fury and grief erupted across the country.

In people’s homes, at barbecues and cafes, in furious editorials in the newspapers and in segments on radio and television, the same questions were being asked. Why are women still not safe to go for a morning jog, to take their baby to a bustling shopping centre, to exist in their own homes without being killed.

According to the Counting Dead Women Australia project, run by researchers from Destroy the Joint, 28 women have died this year – 27 of them alleged to be at the hands of men. This compares to 15 by this point in 2023, 18 by the same point in 2022, 14 in 2021, 16 in 2020, meaning that even excluding the Bondi stabbing attack, the numbers this year are high.

“It’s time we started talking about it not in terms of just ‘violence against women’,” Greens senator Sarah Hanson-Young told Guardian Australia’s Australian Politics podcast. “This is the terrorising of women in their homes and on the street. Women don’t feel safe.”

Figures indicate Australia does have a particular problem with intimate partner killings.

In 2022-23, while the overall homicide rate was lower in Australia (5.6 deaths per million of population) compared with England and Wales (six per million), Australia had nearly double the rate of women killed by a current or former partner, with 34 intimate partner homicides against women in Australia and 35 in England and Wales, despite Australia having a population nearly half that of England and Wales.

The country’s Labor prime minister, Anthony Albanese has declared violence against women a “national crisis”, convened an emergency meeting of national cabinet – the meeting of all the premiers of states and territories, as well as the federal leadership – and on Wednesday announced a $925m package to help victims of violence leave abusive relationships.

Albanese said on Wednesday the suite of measures was “a further step forward” but that he could not be satisfied when a woman was killed in Australia, on average, every four days.

There is a palpable fury in the air. In the last weekend of April, thousands of people took to the streets in 17 rallies across the country, calling for greater action. But there is fear too, that nothing will change.

“I find myself saying [in media interviews] please don’t forget about us next week when the news cycle moves on,” says Karen Bevan, CEO of Full Stop Australia, a sexual, domestic and family violence response and recovery service.

“This isn’t the first time that there’s been a coalescing of national conversation around issues of gendered violence, sexual assault, domestic violence. We’ve certainly had other moments.”

In particular, Bevan is thinking of 2015, when Rosie Batty, whose 11-year-old son Luke had been murdered by his father at cricket training the year before, was made Australian of the Year. Her advocacy catapulted family violence to the top of the public conversation, for a time.

“She, in a moment, changed the conversation,” says Bevan. “And I don’t think her moment was a flash in the pan either. I think she created extraordinary change.”

Since then, changes in the public conversation, media reporting and in the legislative space have made a difference, says Bevan, pointing to the introduction of affirmative consent laws, the passing coercive control legislation, reform of family law, and a review into the funding of legal aid services.

“The other piece we can’t ignore here is that we have a more receptive political environment to the conversation,” she says, of the Labor government, which announced tackling domestic violence as a key priority when it came to power in 2022.

“I do think it matters that governments aren’t only saying ‘thoughts and prayers’, they are also doing things,” she says.

But, there are still huge systemic issues: a national housing crisis and a drastic underfunding of refuges that means women choose between remaining in a violent relationship and homelessness; a lack of funding for women seeking legal help; a scarcity of services particularly for rural and Indigenous women. Experts have also pointed to bail laws, inadequate and sometimes downright harmful policing practices, to show there is much that needs to change before women are safe.

On 1 May, thousands of people turned out in parks, on foreshores, on the lawns of Parliament House for candlelit vigils in honour of all women who were the victims of violence.

Antoinette Braybrook, the CEO of Djirra, an organisation that provides support to Indigenous women experiencing family violence, spoke of the country’s grief in a video ahead of the events.

“Tonight we light not one candle but many … for every woman, for every Aboriginal woman, whose life has been violently taken. For our children, our future, who will never again be embraced by their mum’s love. For every family who has lost a mother, sister, daughter, auntie, grandmother.

“We want you to know we will never give up on our fight for women to live a life free from violence.”

[skippyv20]

Our Prayer List🙏🏻❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend whose husband of 25 years is terminally ill.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s niece. She just had a healthy baby girl, but she is having some medical issues still.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who has had foot surgery and is in my pain. Also has faced trials of emotional, financial stress. Also her husband is not well and having problems with his kidneys.

Prayers and good thoughts for @bobbydoguk husband who is not well, and for @bobbydoguk who we know is worried. We pray for her husband to be pain free. We also pray for them to feel God’s presence during this time. Prayers and good thoughts for our friend. She is having cardiac issues and will be having many tests. Also her blood pressure is very high. Her mother had many heart issues and this has frightened our friend. She is very anxious and scared.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend. She is going through a difficult time. She has had a rough 12 months and is feeling burnt out. She also is dealing with a narcissistic father, and taking care of her elderly mother with no support from family members.

Prayers and good thoughts for Kylee who is missing. It has been months since her mother and grandmother have heard from her. Today is Kylee’s 18th Birthday. We pray Kylee is safe. We pray for her mother and grandmother as they are so worried. (This will remain until we hear Kylee is home safe and sound) June 15 Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s 22 year old nephew who is struggling with anxiety, depression & panic attacks.

Prayers and good thoughts for The Princess of Wales as she continues her battle. We pray for The Prince of Wales and their children, and Catherine’s family during this time.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who is suffering from ringing in her ear. It is constant and she can’t sleep. Neither her doctor or dentist can find the cause.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s brother who is finally home and who continues his fight with cancer. Our friend and her sister were able to visit with him, and are so very grateful to have had time with him. We pray that their brother will be pain free and that he will be at peace. We pray for his partner and his family.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s mother who is feeling a bit confused at this time.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend who is having suicidal thoughts, and having difficulty finding employment. Praying she finds employment soon.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s son and husband. Her son has spinal fractures and they don’t know why. Her husband is having issues with his back as well.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend whose husband had a mental breakdown and they are now facing financial hardship. He is bidding on numerous jobs and needs prayers.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s oldest daughter. Her daughter is on dialysis now. She did test positive for drugs, and her boyfriend is a known drug dealer. This is of great concern. Mar 27

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s treasured son-in-law. He has been diagnosed with esophageal cancer with mets to the liver and lymph nodes throughout his abdomen. He has a very poor prognosis - less than a year, probably just a few months. He is only 48 years old. Our friend is heartbroken, her son-in-law has been in the family for 17 yrs, and he is so very loved. He is scheduled for a PET scan next week.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s nephew who is struggling.

Prayers and good thoughts for our friend’s nephew who has been diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis.

We pray for our friend who for 36 years has suffered from a progressive, painful, debilitating neurological illness that has her housebound, and she is tired.  

[kinokoshoujoart]

CORRECT TAGS‼️‼️‼️‼️ @rn0na-lizard you are so so so correct….. my favorite ‘Normal Girl’ in hmds…….i almost never see anyone talk about these aspects of her let alone also love her for them as they should.

i feel like Leona/ DS lumina gets mischaracterized super often which is understandable bc out of all the DS candidates leona is the least like her ancestor (who i also love, for different reasons).

in AWL lumina was the only kid in the valley for a very long time, but many of the DS residents have lived in the valley their whole lives. while lumina had accepted her role as a proper young heiress by chapter 3 of AWL— and when DS begins Leona already at this point of her life— lumina still had a lingering sense of uncertainty and angst and loneliness and doubt, and unresolved worries about her parents. absolutely none of this is present with leona

in this world leona starts with Lumina’s 22 year old appearance, she’s just rich as hell and living her best life (as she deserves), she’s unabashedly shallow, puts herself first always, speaks so politely and affably yet she can be so casually cruel in the most genuine cute way and out of touch with reality and and i fucking love her and i’d die for her. my beloved girlboss girlkeep girlypop

more iconic Leona Moments

when muu/muffy asks for beauty advice leona’s recommendation is “this brand of mail order beauty cream is simply divine! and it was quite inexpensive too, just 100,000 G 🥰” everyone else looks uncomfortable and muu is like “you’re as frivolous as always….”

aside from the 3 who take literally half your money (Witch💖, moi, and thomas) leona and panama (romana) take the most money from you if they carry you home when you faint. just a couple of girl bosses holding on to their girlpire (btw shout out to sebastian, the only resident in the entire valley who carries you home for free)

neither panama nor leona attend the harvest festival, they send sebastian there by himself to test the food first lmao (if you poison it like the witch they’re harboring on their property requires you to do, sebastian is just like “i can’t serve this to Mistress Panama…”)

once again sebastian attacks mukumuku for her sake, this time not to make her a paintbrush but she told him to get her the best slippers and this was apparently the easiest way. sebastian gets fucking mauled btw

leona has hands down the best romance route in hmds. all her scenes are incredible but god the slow burn friends to lovers with your DVD player….

in her purple heart event she shows up at your house because she heard you have a DVD player, asks you to show her how it works, and then just leaves after she’s done playing with it

in her yellow heart event she has sebastian fetch van so she can buy a DVD player for herself but van’s like “i’m so sorry …. Pete… bought the last one….”

leona is so unable to stomach the idea of other people having things she doesn’t that she starts to cry and the only way to placate her is to tell her she can go to your house anytime she wants just so she can use your DVD player. that’s not a setup to a budding romance that’s her final heart event

it’s the most incredible romance arc in the world like girl you have infinite money you can just. buy a DVD player somewhere else?? “i want to watch DVDs at my house just like you!” leona you have three entire bedrooms

“rich girl love interest who has everything except love, win her heart by having genuine conversation with her”: done to death, tired, i don’t have time for that

“rich girl love interest who has everything except a fucking DVD player, win her heart by giving her expensive stuff and ‘relax tea’ and access to your DVD player”: audacious, intriguing, never been done before, innovative

if you deny her god-given right to access your DVD player she is like “Is that so……………Just let me be alone for a little bit.” incredible tragedy i understand. take as much time as you need to grieve darling

oh but her first heart event asks you to pick a side in an argument she’s having with panama and the correct answer is to say “sebastian is the one who’s wrong” (sebastian has said nothing wrong this whole time and yet both of them have just been yelling at him to shut up)

and her blue heart event is “help me find this heirloom necklace… boohoo…” and when you find it she’s like “perfect! now grandma won’t get mad at me. hmm, you seem pretty dependable…♡” augh she’s way too good at this…….!!! i’ll do anything for you!

when you propose she says “of course, i always dreamed of having a romance and a wedding♡” and says nothing abt how she feels about you <3

also if you marry her, once a week she goes to hang out at her ex love interest’s place for 6 hours straight and comes home saying “whew… i had so much fun that i must have lost track of time… i’ll hurry on home”

if you marry another girl she starts flirting with you like “I’m so envious of your wife, having such a fine husband… Pete.” (or whatever your name is)

i’ve become obsessed with her and romeo’s horrible trainwreck soap opera marriage since replaying cute in jp… it’s SO… i have so much to say about them that it should be its own post but i’ll just give the cliffnotes

shotgun wedding vibes. romeo is surprised by his own wedding. they’re childhood friends but he himself has never considered marrying her. her words to him at their wedding are “Make me happy♡” (command)

she understandably can’t stand his terrible table manners or his clothes or anything about him (except that she wants to watch him surf and have his child. but he instead walks in circles all day. coward) and he’s both really good at accidentally stepping on landmines and just ever so slightly majorly terrified of her after marriage (“but surely her angry outbursts are just her way of showing love hahahahaha” you’re going to die. she’s going to kill you). the only positive things they say about their marriage are extremely shallow. they can’t communicate with each other because romeo always says the Dumbest Shit obliviously and leona always responds by cutting him out of her life forever!!!!!! (for 5 seconds) while he has no idea what happened

they are both so melodramatic and they both just do nothing except make each other worse and run away from each other and push each other away but they can’t escape each other. neither of them ever has to grow or change if they marry each other because an elderly overworked man is sustaining both of their existences and neither of them can take care of themselves and i love them your honor

also romeo’s first crush as a kid was apparently her mom, and if leona falls for YOU she flirts by mentioning that sebastian says you look like the spitting image of her dead father. dear fucking god

they’re the epitome of “You're both just enabling each other's mental illnesses. You're both perfect for each other. Never change. Just never involve anybody else in what you've got going on.”

romeo really does feel like her stupid lackey. like the karen to her regina. they even had this dynamic in the games they played as kids… she was the Harvest Goddess and he was Servant A/Minion A (they might still be playing this game as adults…he calls her lady/mistress sometimes after marriage…)

btw leona’s best friend (wife) marivia is also just as… there’s an event where they just gossip about all the mineral town ppl and marivia says ann would win a gluttony contest and they both giggle

there’s also an event where marivia casually walks into Witch’s hut and just interviews her so she can write her into a novel. witch is left completely drained by this exchange. leona and marivia both are so chill about the horrible cruel villainess living in leona’s shed who wants the town poisoned and rewards you for killing animals and hurting yourself and is putting curses on everyone (and they’re right. she’s never done anything wrong in her life)

[stephaniebrownslover]

Hİİİİ YET ANOTHER ANON

Can I ask about Creepypasta ages headcanons in your main AU??

THANK YOU FROM NOW <333

HIIIIIIII NEW ANON, YOU'RE SO SWEET<3333

Okay thank you so much for asking, you guys are literally spoiling me, like I'm having a little heart attack whenever someone asks me something.

I don't want this post just be numbers so I'll give a random fact about main characters' most important birthday day and something about non-human characters, hope you don't mind. It's mostly angst and I'm so sorry about that.

YOU'RE WELCOME AND I REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE IT<333

I know most of the ages sound ridiculous but it's really hard to attach them all together :(

Characters' Ages And Facts About Main Characters' Most Important Birthday

Au's ships: TicciWork, NinaKate, MaryJane and Bloody Angel(probably should've said this earlier)

Current year: 2014

Main characters

-Jeff The Killer: 20

Jeff got burned at the age of 15, at his most important birthday. His parents were seeing a therapist while Liu was still in prison, and his therapist made a suggestion to Jeff's parents to organize a birthday party for cheering Jeff up. Jeff can never forget the day he was burned alive because his whole life was shaped by it. That's why he hates his own birthday and attacks if anyone tries to celebrate besides Liu.

- Clockwork: 20

Clockwork's most important birthday is the 18th age. Because that was the first year she wasn't on her own. Jeff, Toby, Nina were close friends of Clockwork at the time and each had their own small-scale celebration. For the first time, Clockwork didn't hate her own birthday. That's how she got into the habit of celebrating other people's birthdays, if she felt good about something stupid like that, the people who cared about her might also deserve to feel good in a stupid way, or something like that.

- Hoodie: 25

According to Brian, the most important birthday is the one he celebrated at the age of 10. His family had taken him to see a theater as a gift, and little Brian was so impressed that he was literally obsessed with theater performances and musicals after that show. Even though 10-year-old Brian is the reason why he is where he is right now, Hoodie never blames him for following his dream.

- Masky: 26

His most important birthday is the 20th, when he started working under Slenderman's orders. The year he realized that his life would be like this and that he would have to spend more than he hoped in this job, that fighting would only cause him to die sooner. Obviously, he didn't care about himself, he'd rather die than live this way, but he didn't want to leave Brian alone.

- Ticci Toby: 19

15th birthday. The last year he celebrated with Lyra and his mother since he was a proxy at the age of 16, he celebrated rest of his birthdays as a proxy. Toby doesn't remember all of his memories, and although most of the time his memories are more like pieces, he knows that two women named Lyra and Connie are worth worlds to him. And every time the fragments of that birthday come in front of him, he feels nothing but happiness.

-Eyeless Jack: 21

↺Actually, if he was still alive, he would have been 34. Because he was 21 when he died during the ritual in 1980.

The most important birthday is the year he received the letter of admission to medical school at the age of 18. He had received this a letter a few days ago, and he and his family had thrown a big party to celebrate it. Although he spent his 19th birthday, his first year of studying med, with his family, the most important thing for him is his 18th age.

-Jane The Killer: 22

21, when Mary proposed to her on her birthday. Jane was in a very emotionally repressed state after all her trauma, and Mary could no longer control her feelings for her. While Jane and her lover Mary were sitting in a fashionable restaurant, Mary proposed to Jane. And when there was a lot of opposition because the age group was generally old due to the cost of the restaurant, Jane kissed her on the lips so as not to discourage Mary. The best birthday of her life.

-X-Virus: 17

7th age. That year, he had gone to the zoo on a school trip and celebrated his birthday with the animals there instead of people. This is the biggest proof that he prefer animals' existence to humans. Of course, he might have been happier if a monkey hadn't stolen his food, but little Cody wasn't mad at the monkey then. And when the monkey saw that Cody was upset later, he gave him some of his food anyway.

-Nina The Killer: 19

16th birthday. She and Jeff hadn't made up yet and it was a day when she was really hurt emotionally by him. Her close friend Kate, who saw this, tried to kill Jeff. Although Nina could hardly stop her, Kate was convinced later and they went to hang out at Kate's special place together. Kate was a really special friend to Nina, and she liked that she knew that Kate opened herself up so much. And when Kate dropped her home in the evening, she found Toby and Clockwork were clumsily trying to celebrate her birthday, she cried because of cuteness.

-Kate The Chaser: 20

The first year she spent with Nina as a lover, 20th age. They had become lovers a few months ago, and unlike other proxies, Kate did not remember anything about her past, so she had no memories to miss. Nina had known her since she found Jeff at the age of 15 and was after him. They became close friends when Kate was 17 and Nina was 16, and they started dating when Nina was 19 and Kate was 20. Their relationship began when Kate took pity on Nina and helped her, and Nina helped her during difficult times where Kate tried to expertize in proxy work. The year they became lovers, Nina organized a special day just for the two of them, knowing that she wouldn't want a big party, and Kate's favorite moment was when they watched the sunset with one head phone.

Main supporting characters

-Homicidal Liu: 18

-Sally: 13

↺If she was still alive, she would have been 55 years old. She died in 1972.

-Ben Drowned: 12

↺If he had continued to live, he would have been 32 years old. He died in 1994.

- Puppeteer: 23

↺ If his heart was still beating, he would have been 37 years old. He died in 2000.

-Zero: 24

-Nurse Ann: 27

↺If her heart had been alive, she would have been 33 years old. She died in 2008.

-Bloody Painter: 17

-Judge Angels: 17

-Mary Vaughn: 22

Supporting characters

-Lulu: 16

-Laughing Jack: 214

↺He was produced in 1800.

-Nightmare Ally: 15

↺If she was still human, she would have been 55 years old. She died in 1974.

- Kagekao: 29

↺If he was still a human, he would have been 34 years old. He died in 2009.

-Rouge: 32

-Jason The Toymaker: 134

↺He was produced in 1880.

-Laughing Jill: 114

↺She was produced in 1900.

Background characters

-Slenderman: 2500+(?)

↺It is not known exactly when he was born, some say that there are drawings of him even in ancient Egypt.

- Emra: 25

↺If she was still alive, she would have been 37 years old. She died in 2002.

-Dr. Smiley: 33

-Cat Hunter: 30

-Zalgo: ?

↺It is estimated that his existence endured back even before the earliest times of humanity.

-Weeping Forest: 16

↺If she had not undergone this change, she would have been 56 years old. She died in 1974.

[idohistorysometimes]

So what is going on in Iran right now?

I am pretty sure most of you who are either on TikTok or keep up with international news have heard about the massive protests happening in Iran right now. Its a pretty big deal. But what exactly are these protests for and why are they so important?

Hopefully, for those who dont know whats going on I can explain it all here.

Who is Mahsa Amini and what happened to her

Mahsa Amini was a 22-year-old woman traveling from Kurdistan to Tehran (the capital of Iran) to visit family and was stopped once she entered the city by something called “the morality police” (yes this is a real thing). They claimed Mahsa Amini was wearing her Hijab incorrectly and that she would be arrested to undergo “reeducation” at the police station (which would result in her being released after an hour or so). Mahsa’s brother was with her when she was arrested and waited at the station for her to be released.

It is unclear what exactly happened between when Mahsa was arrested and the events of her death (mostly because we do not have any video of these events), but the women detained along with Mahsa reported for similar offenses reported Mahsa was violently beaten by said “morality officers”. This was supposedly for resisting their insults directed toward her. This story is corroborated by her brother’s report of Mahsa having bruises all over her body and the hospital where Mahsa was staying reporting she was brain dead upon arrival along with reporting signs of skull fracture and bleeding in her brain both on social media and in leaked medical reports.

Mahsa died of her injuries 2 days after she was admitted to the hospital on September 16th of 2022. 

The official cause of death as reported by both the morality police and Iranian government has been extremely suspicious since the ‘official’ story claims she died as a result of a random heart attack/seizure combo. However, as stated before, there is plenty of evidence that Mahsa was violently attacked which includes (but is not limited to): the skull fractures found, the bruising around her body and face, the bleeding found in her brain and ears, and the fact several other witnesses have either said they witnessed the assault or have seen the previous things. Mahsa’s father also reported she was in perfect health and did not have a history of heart or seizure issues.

Why are people protesting?

For the people of Iran, instances of violence like this are not an unheard-of occurrence. Since the revolution of 1979 and the creation of this “morality police force” women were forced to wear the Hijab regardless of personal choice and had to adhere to a strict modest dress code lest they face similar treatment to Mahsa. To quote an actual penal code enacted in Iran post-revolution:

"women who appear in public without religious hijab will be sentenced to whipping up to 74 lashes"

Violence against women for this reason was now, in a way, much more normalized. Some of these dresscodes did apply to men, sure, but they were primiarly created expressly to control women with the use of fear and force by way of the Hijab. To also directly quote Iran’s Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei (who has been in power since 1989):  

"improperly veiled women should be made to feel unsafe"

Is this an anti-Islam protest?

The protests surrounding the death of Mahsa Amini have definitely gained international attention by what many people are doing in them. Many women are burning their hijabs in the streets, cutting off/shaving their hair, and otherwise just doing a lot of things that, traditionally, would be considered taboo under this system that's currently in place. However, this does not seem to be a direct rejection of Islam and rather a direct rejection of control over women by the use of the Hijab as an avenue for that control.

As stated before, this is not a new issue. There have been anti-hijab protests going on since the revolution in Iran back in the 70s. There were even protests pre-revolution FOR veiling since the leader at the time wanted to strictly stick to western norms. Iran shifted from one major extreme to the other. And in both these extremes choice on the part of the woman in question is completely taken out of the equation. It has been men making these choices for women in a broad universal way without giving women the ability to decide what they want for themselves. There is more than 1 way to veil in Islam. There are also many women who do not veil at all but are still active participants in their faith. There is not one specific way to do this correctly within Islam because modesty as a whole is a subjective topic. So the fact this police force exists in the first place is less about keeping morals ‘secure’ and more about exerting control through these rules via more extreme interpretations. 

It would however be unfair to say that these protests and the cultural revolution happening because of these protests do not diametrically oppose some parts of Islam and the culture surrounding it. These beliefs are incompatible by virtue of them being polar opposites of each other. These protests, like it or not, have western influence on them and this influence threatens certain parts of Islam because over time certain aspects of culture have become rooted in these controlling methods. Its pretty unclear how this will all play out. However, it is safe to say this will be shaking up things both within Iran and in the world of Islam as a whole. 

Why are Non-Iranian women also cutting their hair?

Ever since the protests have gained international attention many women outside of Iran (both ethnically Iranian and not) have also been cutting their hair to various degrees to stand in solidarity with protestors. 

This is significant symbolically for a few reasons. In many cultures, long hair is directly tied to one's femininity, attractiveness, and even in some cases where one comes from. Like it or not hair is culturally and socially important and the loss off it can be a very big deal for those living under these cultural expectations. In Iran doing something like this subjects you to harassment from the morality police. It breaks the morality code and challenges the idea of what a woman should be and look like. Outside of this context, the removal of hair can be a sign of mourning, fear, anger, and a rejection of femininity (or in this case, the control brought on by strict gendered dress codes). 

There has been a lot of controversy around this act since many people currently participating in these protests feel this act is performative activism on the part of western allies. Cutting one's hair is not really on the same level as donating money to a cause or protesting yourself. But others believe this is an important act of international solidarity. If you reading this decide to do this: do it at your own discretion and be sure your act of solidarity does not outshine the actual protests going on.

Why are people asking to blur/delete protest footage posted online?

It should go without saying that the people protesting right now are putting themselves in very real danger. What happened to Mahsa Amini is now happening to protesters who are speaking out about Iran’s harsh morality laws. Many people have died already as a result of participating in these protests and many more have gone missing. When you are dealing with an oppressive system like this they are not going to take too kindly to opposition. And if they are not afraid to beat women simply for wearing their Hijab ‘incorrectly’, they are not afraid to do much worse to political rivals. 

Out of respect for the protesters and their safety: please blur out any faces, names, and remove all metadata from any protest photos/footage you decide to share online. Because if I can find one of the protestors on Instagram simply by looking at their face and general location so can the morality police. For those around during the Black Lives Matter protests, the Russian anti-war protests, or any other media-sensitive protest use those same rules when posting footage/reporting on them