#I don't get emotionally attached to clothes I'm a normal person

[satansfavoritestripper]

*pouts*

[mega-ringsandthings-world]

I'm back on my bullshit, and I'm about to make it everyone's problem! Sorry if everything's a bit scattered; I'm trying to get my thoughts in order, but I have so much stuff in my now overflowing brain folder. I'll have to sort it out later. Again take everything I say with a grain of salt I’m sure I will love your au wether I’ve got the right idea about it or not!

But oh my god! Your sketches are so good and clean—mwah, chef's kiss. And the sword before Yoru is peak "Hawk-boy has a type," and we all can see it. I wonder if he had it personally made to prepare to take on Yoru as a main blade later, if it existed at this time? Did he go through a catalog of specific special grade swords and go, "Mmm, yes, big blade!" and never look back? Sorry, off-topic, but he deserves a fancy, pretty blade, and those purple and pink jewels are very much like that for him and his vibe.

And huh, him showing Shanks kindness with the handkerchief! It's sweet, and Mihawk's already attached. Normally, Mihawk wouldn't have given Shanks the time of day until he could fight him, but adversity and the lack of autonomy have made him somewhat less controlled, or at least trying to gain some type of control, even if it's just making sure someone uses a handkerchief instead of their shirt. And Shanks, it kinda feels like Shanks already has a crush. He's emotionally defeated, devastated, and probably terrified, and here comes this guy, gruff and rude, but he doesn't ask about Roger, he doesn't want anything from Shanks, and he gives him something beautiful he made himself by hand, just so Shanks could wipe his tears and blow his nose. Fuck it all, I'd fall in love if someone did that for me.

They already feel so enmeshed; like the handkerchief sealed some type of pact with fate. Like the universe has turned and slotted these two together. And your wrote it so seemlessly! Shanks is vulnerable and unable to hide behind drinks, parties, and adventures. Mihawk is out of control, a big and main part of his character that later on becomes like a second skin. As much as he seems okay, this is pushing him into behavior that would likely be out of character if not under these circumstances. Gods, this is the type of character study I love! I will definitely be comparing and contrasting these two and their canon counterparts as they change, and the fic goes on. Tulips are probably about to become Shanks' favorite flower. And of course, Mihawk can embroider. He's a man of perfection and patience (ha, I can relate to that; never perfect indeed), and the delicate, slow needlework of embroidering sounds just right up his alley. Probably his form of meditation. I bet he does all the flowers on his shirts. I bet Shanks will tear his clothes in the future just so Mihawk will embroider flowers on them.

Now off to the boys for a second. Let's talk politics, specifically the revolutionaries. Are the revolutionaries going to be a big part of this fic? Because as you mentioned, the world government is about to commit an oopsie on the highest scale. Are some of those monsters going to be snatched up by Dragon and his revolution? Because this is about to radicalize a lot of people. A lot of powerful people. Hmmm, I wonder if he'll even be interested in what's happening to the pirates who got caught. He seems like a good and kind man, but a man who's willing to put the needs of the greater good over the needs of a few criminals. Pirates aren't exactly the good guys, so to speak, and if they were just headed for Impel Down, I don't think he'd do much for them. But I don't think that's where you're pulling this, and again, he is pragmatic and willing to mess up what the world government has planned. The oppressed, no matter their station or morals, are fellow oppressed, and I can see him looking into what the government's doing and maybe disrupting it to screw the government over. I don't know; just throwing thoughts out there.

But more importantly, in this AU, it seems that the Roger Pirates will be hunted even more than in canon, considering the Marines are on a mission to destroy piracy at the root, and a lot of would-be pirates they would have had to worry about just got snapped up! I don't think they'll be able to help Shanks even if they wanted to. And Garp, where's he in all this? On one hand, I can totally see him advocating for the eradication of the pirates and setting the trap. On the other hand, I'm not sure about him being so gung-ho about taking in Shanks and doing whatever the Marines plan to do with him. It might be a side plot for later, unless, once they get the prisoners, this all goes to Cipher Pol agents and out of the Marines' hands. Maybe this was their idea in the first place; it seems more up their alley than the Marines in general. Maybe a collaboration? Guess I’ll find out when I read.

But also, governments aren't good at mass arrests. How many civilians do you think got snapped up by accident?

Anyways, that's all I have for now. The art I promised should be posted tomorrow, hopefully; I just want to make a few adjustments. Should be all good. Also, do you have a playlist for this AU yet?

I'm pumped anytime I get your asks, hit away all you like! I love hashing this AU out like this. Most times you've hit it right on the head! I'm making it everyone's problem too. !! Glad you like them! Allow me to go on a moment, the 'before Yoru' sword is supposed to be modeled in appearances (jewels, handguard, inlaid blade) after a spanish or italian cusped falchion, and in utility, after the german kreigmesser. Based on appearances, they look closest to Yoru, and yeah, it's exactly 'Mihawk has a type.' He'd be the kind to find a design he likes and stick with it. Kreigmessers were military swords, used often by mercenaries, and used two-handed. Again, like Yoru. I think Mihawk would have obtained/made a sword suited to his fighting style, and that style does contain a lot of extended slashes. Yoru does exist, and I have a whole thing for how he will get it. Let's just say he becomes acquainted with it due to the marines. And yes. More pink and purple everything, actually. Those colors work for him so much. ^^ He's attached and he doesn't even know it himself. He thinks it's simply purely utilitarian, purely practical to make sure Shanks cleans up properly, but it's also to see what Shanks will do. If he'll refuse it, or be insulted, or double down, or turn his nose up at Mihawk's refinement. None of which Shanks does. And yes, also to retain control over the situation. If he has a handle on what is happening right beside him, it 'frees' him concentrate on the more severe aspects going on. Shanks does have a crush. Probably love from first handkerchief. Again, he doesn't know it yet either. Right now he's too steeped in grief, and he also would think Mihawk is out of his league. Still, Mihawk is his only sense of stability at the moment. Mihawk's indifference and stoic-ness is what will unwittingly keep Shanks sane, because at a time when he would have been drowning in despair, he instead is pressing back against Mihawk's opposite personality. And admiring his handkerchiefs. (A thing about the handkerchief, most sailors now how to sew, they have to. Shanks would know how to sew as well, which is why he isn't surprised at Mihawk making the handkerchief, but at it's prettiness. Shanks has never had the occasion to work beauty into the things he makes for himself. Also why he thinks a sweetheart made it for Mihawk) Just so! They don't have the mental armor of their older selves. They do not have the presence, the power, or the coping methods. They are not established. Mihawk is so young, nineteen is nothing, really, and the sympathy and care we only see bare glimpses of in his older self is not sealed away as it is then. At this age, he's haughty, but that is a projection of haughtiness as much as anything. Pitting older and younger against each other is so fun in that regard! Oh, that's for certain. Tulips become and remain his favorite flower. I embroider, and embroidering is relaxing, but requires focus, so perfect hobby for Mihawk. And he gets to use something sharp and pointy. His perfectionism is perhaps what leads to him taking up embroidering and even actual tailoring in the first place, he'd want total say over how he decorates/designs his things/clothes. And YES to Shanks deliberately making Mihawk have to mend his clothes. got to make a pt. 2

[niragixpsych]

Yeah, to be honest, there's several fun stuff you can do in a human body. As a bat I couldn't drink alcohol and smoke cigarettes. Not to mention working as a DJ, having tattoos and piercings and wearing cool clothes. The sex is better in a human body, too.

I like to scare humans. It's funny when they wet their pants at my sight. Most are fascinated by me though. Fucking and fighting are some of the biggest pleasures one can have, so yeah, I can't even blame them. I enjoy it as well after all.

It's a privilege I earned, to have others listen to my words. I can tell you I wasn't born a leader, but I eventually picked myself up and started to believe in myself and my abilities. Developing my style helped me to grow confident. Why wouldn't you be a good leader? Because you wouldn't make good decisions?

Define special. Could a person you're attached to emotionally tame you potentially or someone who's just dominant enough?

Perks of being a flame is that I can fly, that no one can harm me and that I can use my powers to a certain degree. But you can't have sex as a flame or do any of the things you just mentioned. Also now that I heard you talk about it I start to wonder what bat sex looks like. And I also wonder as a bat do you have sex with other vampires in their bat form or with normal bats.

I can understand why they are fascinated by you, you're the kind of person people want to know more about. Like your way of thinking, what you like and so on and on. Plus, they can sense you're not an open book so you become even more interesting.

I enjoying scaring humans too, but I'm also aware some of those scared souls would be foolish enough to come to me again. And fucking and fighting are some of the biggest pleasures someone can have for sure and I will indulge in them whenever I feel like it.

It's not about making bad decisions... it's more about disliking the idea of being responsible for others. You have to look out for them because if you don't at some point you will have no one to follow you anymore. It's about letting others close to a certain degree. And I'm not sure I could get people to trust me enough.

It depends on the kind of taming someone is aiming for. If it's just sexual someone dominant might be able to do it with a bit of look. If it is about getting overall tamed I believe it would be a combination of things. But I admit I'm not sure whether I can get emotionally attached to someone.

[trifoliate-undergrowth]

(Please ignore this if it is too personal) When did you first know you were a man? How would I know whether I am a man or a woman? Is there certain feelings attached or something else? I’d like to hear more about your experience if you’re willing to share. Either way, thanks for your time and have a great day!

Oh boy gender stuff! Good luck anon!

I'll do my best to describe what it was like for me, but everyone's different and I feel like I had kind of a non-standard story anyway, maybe? (feelings were weird bc.... autism? trauma? depression?? all of the above??) But everyone's different, anyways. Some people know as soon as they have a concept of gender as small kids and some people find out super late in life, I figured it out the year after I graduated college.

There isn't really a specific moment I can remember, it was just sort of... steadily going "huh. hm. I think maybe.... huh..." and doing research and thinking about it. A couple days at the very end of August were the tipping point and I was sure by September, which is sort of a personal holiday for me figuring it out. For quite a while but especially for the year previous to this I'd been figuring out that I liked my hair short, and that I liked wearing more masculine clothes (my homophobic mom several times accused me of being queer and I was like WTF NO LEAVE ME ALONE I'M CLEARLY A COMPLETELY CISHET GOOD CHRISTIAN WAMEN WHO IS NOT SLOWLY DEVELOPING A GENDER CRISIS lol.) You can see why the um environment in my family might have contributed to me... not wanting to/feeling allowed to explore this earlier idk.

I was unsure for basically the first year of knowing I was trans, because I have issues with doubting my perceptions easily, but I logiced my way through it and was like. Why would I -want- to alienate my family and complicate my whole life if this wasn't real, like why would I choose extra inconvenience for funsies?? I wouldn't. I've gotten a bit more sure about myself and able to trust my perceptions since then, but also relaxed on knowing the specifics of everything. I'm still figuring out my gender and sexuality on some level (I'm some type of aroace but what fine print and where on the spectrum? idk but I'm something. I'm transmasculine, am I Completely Binary 100% Full Gender Man Dude or more nonbinary/agender? idk, I do know that I want to transition, for now I just tell people I'm a trans man and it's close enough and feels right.)

Emotionally, it's weird. For me, I didn't... at least I didn't notice dysphoria, at first? Because that was the way I'd always been, it felt normal. But here's the thing, "normal" felt dull and dead and just sort of empty. Like I wasn't interested in being my gender I was just sort of going through the motions because it seemed like I was supposed to. The big difference for me was realizing that I wanted masculinity and that it made me feel good about my gender, something I had not felt before. Before it had always just been like "eh, sure, okay, I guess. I mean, there's not another option, right?" (There was.)

I guess when I figured it out there was just sort of a sense of, oh, okay. There's nothing to go back to, because that was all just a lot of -nothing-, and now I've figure out how to actually feel alive, gender-wise. Like I didn't feel there was an option to turn that awareness off.

I don't know, it's confusing trying to explain it. Feelings weird. I want to say "you'll just know" but I did get super anxious and psyche myself out going "but what if I'm just completely deranged and making this all up for some incomprehensible reason?? or what if I'm POSSESSED??" (true story.) so like, it uh, took me a while to Know(TM) myself.

It might be easier to put aside the "am I trans" question for a sec and think about specific things that you do know that you are or want. Like this page! also this, and @transgenderteensurvivalguide in general. They're a good source. and I really like youtuber Jammidodger. There's sometimes a disconnect between finding community online and in the real world though, what I found out is that there were a lot more queer people and a lot more resources in my area than I thought! I was able to get top surgery like right down the street, I had assumed I'd need to travel to another state. So try to figure out if there's a local LGBTQ+ organization of some kind, they might have more information for what's in your area. I'm on a weekly zoom call with other trans people in the community, it's open to gender-nonconforming and questioning people as well as trans allies. I think a lot of trans groups generally are open for you to just come hang out and talk to other people and see other people if you're questioning your gender, you don't have to have all the answers on day one.

I hope some of this helps, it's really only something you can figure out yourself but @transgenderteensurvivalguide is a good compilation of resources to help figure it out. Good luck anon! Take your time, try not to freak out too much, I love you!

[texasthegreatdestroyer]

One Heart, Two Souls: FFX Fan fic

Chapter 1: Part 1.

Cold… That was just one of the things I felt. It was certainly an improvement from five minutes ago.

Then, my lungs had filled with salt water. I remember vomiting it up with what I presumed to be blood, as it left an iron flavor in my mouth.

What a fabulous combination. Blood and seawater. At some point, I must have hit my stomach really hard, that would probably explain the mix of blood and bile.

But what did I have in me to care? My feelings had been washed with a majority of my blood in the sea. The same blood that poured out of my wounds.

The wounds that reminded me of my poor decisions, my failures, and of course, my death. Dying came to me fast, but ended so slowly. I can still feel the sick irony, as the god of the corrupt religion laughs in my face. Waiting, regenerating, plotting which of it's followers to kill next. I felt bitter, but that bitterness turned to sweet salvation and sugar coated numbness, well mentally that was.

The right side of me hurt like hell. Something around the wounds made me hurt. Seawater maybe? No, this felt grainy. My wounds stung and my body ached.

It seemed like every time I tried to move a muscle, it felt like the limb attached to it was being severed from the rest of my body.

I wasn't sure what was worse, my increasing body aches? My inability to open my eyes? Or the the slight but selfish contempt I had for two people I called my best friends?

My eyes, I need to open them. I can hate myself later. I did eventually tried to open my eyes, but when I did, my right one wouldn't open.

The blood on my eye started to clot and eventually scabbed up enough to keep me from forcing it open.

I did manage to get my left eye open though. What I saw was… sort of dark. My good eye and bad eye stung. Using what I knew so far, it was sand that was irritating my eye and wounds.

Somehow, I had face planted into sand. When I figured this out, I lifted my head up quickly. I had finally made it to shore.

I wasn't sure how I ended up here, or in the middle of the ocean for that matter.

I found myself on the beach of a coastal city. It was a big city, but it couldn't have been Bevelle.

I had been all over that city, and knew every landmark, but none of the knees around me looked familiar.

It didn't take me long to figure out where I was, as I noticed that it was busy with machina.

Could this be what I think this could be? Is this Jecht's Zanarkand?

This meant I was able to fulfill my promise to Jecht, but worth how I was feeling, I spat at the idea of fulfilling the promise, as I still felt contempt him and Braska leaving me behind.  Leaving me alone.

As I looked around, I noticed somehow staring at me. It was a child. He looked to be six or seven, but that was not the key thing that stood out about him. He looked like Jecht.

The only thing I could mutter out to him was, “Who… are you?”

The boy looked at me horrified before he ran screaming. “Maaaaa!”. Instinctively, I got up quickly and grabbed his wrist, but that just made him scream more.

“LET GO OF ME!”

“Wait! I think I know your father!”

At hearing this, the boy kept quiet.

“Is your name Tidus?”

The boy was about to answer, but someone came out of their home. An elder looking woman she was. She shouted at us from afar.

The whole beach was made up from boat houses, and she lived in one.

“What's going on over there!?”

We made the mistake of looking over there, it just her yell at us.

“Are you alright young boy?”

She stared at me, then decided it was fit to yell at me next. I didn't really appreciate the attention.

“You! You leave that poor little boy alone! I'll call the police!”

I had no idea what she was talking about. What was a police, or the police? I didn't stay to find out. With the little energy I had, I got up and ran.

To my surprise, the boy followed. We eventually made it somewhere where we'd be safe to talk in private.

“You're Jecht's son, are you not?”

The boy flinched at my question. I could tell that just his father's name made him sick.

“Everyone knows my stupid old man, what makes you special?”

“I knew him on a personal level. I spent three months traveling with him. We were friends. He asked me to find you and your mother.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“I'm only here to bear news off your father to you and your mother, and to help out with you as needed.”

“That doesn't answer my question.”

“Look, it's hard to explain. I just need you to trust me.”

There was silence among us. The boy did finally reply after a couple minutes. All though it was monotone, out was the answer I hoped for.

“Fine.”

I followed him as he guided me to his home. He lived in a fancy little boat house, perfect for a small family of three.

Despite it being a nice, sunny day, there seemed to be something dark and unbecoming of the bright, little house.

The sound of the child's voice snapped me out of my daze.

“I'm going to go get my mom, wait here.”

He opened the door, the inside looked unwelcoming. The boy continued into the dark pit of despair called a doorway. I had to advert my attention to something else to keep myself from running in after him, as I was terrified of what may have been lurking in abyss.

I caught the eyes of the neighbors next door. They were a young, attractive couple. Looks of terror formed on their faces, so like Tidus.

Was my condition really that revolting? As I continued to think about it, the smell of rotten flesh wafted from my body.

I looked down at my decomposing wounds to see that I was squirting blood everywhere as that people next door were watching and reacting. It had occurred to me that my condition was that bad.

My focus was interrupted with Tidus’s return. He walked over to me, but I kept my eyes glued to the dark corridor, waiting, expecting a beautiful woman to illuminate the dark vibes I was getting from interior. Besides, Jecht was supposedly the best blitzer in Zanarkand, and maybe even the world, he would have to have a wife prettier than any of the gorgeous women who flocked to him at the end of the game, or anywhere he was seen.

Finally, a wisp appeared in the doorway. What I saw left me in shock and aww. It was a woman, she would have been beautiful if it wasn't for a couple issues.

Unlike a normal person who emerges in order of a silhouette to a full human body. She starred as a wisp and came out a silhouette.

She was freakishly skinny, her skin stretched across her body like tight clothing. From a literal standpoint, she looked like flesh and bones.

You could see every curve of her skeletal system. The woman was as pale as a ghost. She looked very sickly, almost as if you even slightly touched her, she would shatter.

However, what stood out about her the most was her eyes. They were a shiny, bright, blue, yet appeared to be incredibly dull.

She had darkly outlined bags under her eyes as if she never slept. She looked like the creation made by a depressed artist who felt like spilling their feelings onto the paper.

Her eyes were glazed over like freshly cut glass. She looked like someone who would smile a lot, but not as of now. The one thing the glimmer in her eyes and her smile had in common other than being beautiful. Gone.

Disappeared with Jecht himself, kept in the pocket of his chaos torn pants, as he walked to his demise in the hands of the culprit himself, as he would turn a small family of three into a smaller family of two, leaving it in shambles.

It was very clear she herself was lying on a deathbed, created by her husband's absence and her inability to go on. Her death would be by her own weak, trembling hands. The woman in her frail state spoke.

“I'm sorry, I can't help you. We don't have any medical supplies to take care of you with.”

“That's not why I'm here ma’am.”

“Oh? My son said differently.”

We both stared at the boy. He replied to his unwanted attention.

“Hey, someone had to say it. You look like a walking corpse.”

His mother of course didn't approve of his comment.

“Tidus! That's impolite, apologize.”

He hung his head low in reaction to the unwanted reaction before he spoke again.

“... Sorry.”

“It's not a problem.”

His mother's focus shifted back towards me now.

“Why are you here then?”

My heart dropped. I wasn't  ready to make things worse, but I made a promise.

“I've come bearing unfortunate news… I'm here to inform you that your husband's death has been confirmed… I'm sorry for your

loss.”

She fell to the ground shrieking.

“I knew he was gone, but no one ever found his body! Knowing this, I believed he wasn't dead, that he'd come back to us, my sweet, sweet Jecht! That's been my only hope for months!”

I wanted to comfort her, but I wasn't sure what I could do for her. She had just lost her husband. Although I was also grieving his death, I didn't have it in me to cry.

Looking down at Jecht's wife, I could tell deep down, her heart bleed sorrow, rage, and love. Love that was clearly not reserved for her son.

He tried to go comfort his mother, but when bee did, she just about snapped his head off clean.

“Mommy, it'll be alright-”

“DON'T TOUCH ME!”

She harshly ripped her hands from her son's gentle grasp. I was stunned to see how she treated him. Tidus began to cry, but it only managed to make matters worse for him. She replied with venomous words.

“Grow up and stop crying! You're being pathetic! You HATE him! You said son yourself, so why are you crying!?”

She clearly had a short fuse. The boy cowered. He wiped his tears at his mother's command. He stayed long enough to glare at me, then stomped into the house and slammed the door behind him.

I wanted to tell her the way she was treating her son was wrong, but I couldn't risk her taking offence to what I would say and not let me see him again, so I kept quiet.

Yet again, I kept my eyes attached to the door, while recognizing the so called fruits of my labor.

They were rotten and stunk of failure. A sad and emotionally abused son and a distant mother, that's what was gained.

His mother whispered random words, they sounded of suicide. I looked to find het skin even more tightly stretched across her skull as her eyes got big.

Suddenly the air begun to fill with a bad smell, something other than rotten flesh. It was urine.

I looked below the woman to find a dark yellow puddle under her feet, and a wet spot on her jeans. You could tell she didn't drink much by the discoloration of her… nevermind, too much detail.

I was shocked at the site, and also disgusted. I've had to bear news of fallen comrades to their families numerous times in the past, but I've never gotten this kind of reaction before.

I didn't think grief pissing one's self was anything more than a tale the higher ups told the cadets to disturb them in the warrior monks, but she did so.

I find it funny that this had to happen with the wife of my goner of a best friend. I guess life decided since it was a special occasion, that the reaction had to be equally special. Simply put, a godly, almighty, “Fuck you” from the world to me.

I'm horrible with emotions, I always have been. I watched as wet comps of years ran down her face powerless.

Not too long afterwards, she had passed out. I hadn't noticed, but when I looked away earlier, Tidus had pulled up a stool and watched us from the window of the door.

It took him awhile to move the stool and come outside, but he finally did. He came at me, pushing, hitting, and screaming.

“GET AWAY FROM MOMMY!”

Hee growled at me as I restrained him. I got him inside and locked him in his room long enough to get his mother inside.

I couldn't just leave her to lay in a puddle of her own filth, so I picked her up and took her to the bathroom.

I let Tidus out, asked him if he could help me get his mother cleaned up. After enough fussing, he agreed to help.

There were many weird contraption in the bathroom, but I got her unclothed, and put her in the one that looked closer to a bath.

I wasn't surprised to see that she loomed entirely like a skeleton. However, I couldn't help but stare at her bony structure.

Of course, when Tidus came in, he took my intentions to be impure.

“Stop staring at mommies chest, you creep.”

“That wasn't what I was looking at, I swear!”

“Uh Huh… sure.”

“I promise! She's just… really skinny.”

“Mommy doesn't eat like she used to. She doesn't really eat at all. The doctor told her she needed to start eating more, or she would get sicker, but she never listened. I try to get her to eat, but she won't eat for me!”

He sounds like a mother himself, complaining about trying to get the children to eat right. He stared at me quietly as if he was waiting for something. I wasn't sure what he wanted from me.

“Aren't you going to turn the water on?” He said snarkily.

I wasn't sure how this thing worked, I turned the left knob hesitantly. His mother began to shiver uncontrollably. The boy put his hand in the water.

“It's cold genius! No wonder she's freezing!”

I turn the left knob back to its starting point, turning the water off, then I turn the right knob. I saw steam coming up, so I automatically thought a win for me, but then she flinched in discomfort.

He sticks his hand in a second time, but pulls back immediately.

“Ow!”

He looked up at me and scowled.

“Are you trying to cook her?! You're hurting Mommy!”

“I'm really sorry!”

“No! Just get out!”

I fulfill his wishes and go out to look around for a fresh towel and a set of clothing. It doesn't take Tidus long to call me back in there. He has me watch over her long enough to go grab some things. Tidus comes back with some rubbing alcohol, duct tape and some napkins.

“Stay still!”

“Why?”

“Well, I have to patch you up! I can't just have you bleeding everywhere! You're cleaning the blood up by the way, especially on the carpet, if you don't, mom will be maaaad!”

“That's noted, but are you sure using duct tape and napkins is a good idea?”

“Are you being ungrateful?”

I kept quiet. Duct tape and napkins were at least something. That and probably a better alternative than the local hospitals. Them trying to get my medical records would have been one giant headache all together.

I watch him and cringe at the sting of him stumping a lot of rubbing alcohol on my wounds. I had to bite my lip to keep myself from cursing up a storm. Seriously? Did this kid have no restraint? No idea how painful rubbing alcohol is?

He eventually moved on to putting the fanfic napkins on me and tapping the wounds up.

“You're very lucky mom was talking about throwing these out, or else I would have used paper napkins... But still, keep those hidden just in case.”

“Duly noted.”

He finally did finish, and to my surprise, his method wasn't all that shabby. The bleeding stopped, and the wounds were cleaned. My only issue is that he taped my bread entirely to keep the napkin concealed, this is going to hurt to pull off later.

I continued looking around for what I needed. I didn't take me long, I found her clothes in her dresser, I avoided the panty and bra drawer entirely, I already had taken her out of her clothes and had to put her back in them, I wasn't about to be the guy to look through her potentially sexually arousing undergarments.

I was making my way down the hall to the bathroom when Tidus comes running my direction. I knew something had to be wrong.

“Quick! Help me! Mommies head went under the water and I can't get het up!”

I run into the bathroom quickly and pull her up from the water. If I'd waited any longer, she would have drown. I sit her up long enough to put the towel and clothes down, then hold onto her and kept her head above the water long enough for Tidus to finish cleaning her up.

Afterwards, Tidus grabbed her forty clothes and stuck them in one of the two matching machina. I would later find out that they were a clothe washer and dryer.

I drained the automatic bath and took my time drying her off properly, then put her clothes back on her and carried her to her bed, then I tucked her in.

By the end of this, I stunk of not only rancid flesh and body odor, but a touch of urine. I considered using the bath, but it wasn't my place to do so without permission, so I just left it alone.

Tidus and I sat on the deck quietly. It was an hour before he went in to check on his mother. I could tell he was worried.

When he came back out, we spoke briefly, but the awkwardness turned to silence after the following conversation.

“Is your mother alright?”

“Why do you care?”

His words were cold and untrustworthy. What I said next probably didn't help matters any.

“I wouldn't know what to do if she dies.”

“Don't say she's going to die!”

After a while, we went back inside. There, he spoke to me for a second time. I wasn't off the hook just yet. I was to be thoroughly investigated by a seven-year old. First a doctor, next a detective. This kid has quite the future ahead of him.

“Why were you sent here by my father?”

“I was sent here to bear news off your father's passing, also to help out with you if necessary, in other words, your father's will.”

“... How did he die?”

“He died a hero's death-”

“Don't call my father a hero! He's not!”

There was a pause of silence between us. A few seconds later, I heard shuffling coming down the hallway. I watched as the thin lining of his mother appeared from within the shadows. Instantly, I got up, my first instinct being to guide her back to her room.

When we got back to her room, she said she wanted to talk to me in private, so I shut the door. That was a big mistake.

- To be continued.