#i don't care if their memories were wiped they are TRAUMATIZED

[itsyourstarboy]

Baby 2.0 is in a psych ward, just so y'all know.

Ivan really fucked them up.

[nocreativityfornames]

THE BROTHERS AND THE CELESTIAL REALM (SPOILERS: ALL SEASONS)

Alright, let's talk about it. It's been a long time since the game started flirting with the idea of the brothers forgiving Father/God and changing their views of the Celestial Realm as a whole and it's very odd, to say the least.

The first big red flag was this moment with Lucifer back in Season 3 of NB, that was the most concerning one considering that this was recently fallen Lucifer, when the war had ended only a year ago and they had just lost Lilith, and when he and the brothers had just escaped eternal punishment being trapped at Cocytus forever for betraying Father.

The contrast of recently fallen Lucifer speaking this positively of God when even the present one (who's had who knows how many centuries to process everything that happened) has shown to despise the idea of coming back to the Celestial Realm, mostly remember his time there in a bad light, and outright fear Father is JARRING.

And these moments keep coming, and the brothers keep showing more and more positive feelings towards the Celestial Realm. Forget everything we learned about the CR and what they went through, or the feelings the characters expressed towards the Celestial Realm before Nightbringer.

You're telling me that God wanted to wipe their sister from all existence and half of the realm, angels who they thought they could trust, opposed to them when they dared to protect her, went to war with them, and had her killed (probably along other angels who sided with the brothers to save her because the whole realm was divided) and now the brothers are just going to forget all of that and be all "the Celestial Realm wasn't that bad, actually. We always loved it there and wouldn't mind going back"? Really...?

I mean, even beyond all the Lilith stuff the Celestial Realm had always been a bad place for the brothers. Remember what Lucifer said: most of his memories from that time aren't good. The brothers already didn't like the Celestial Realm before Lilith; they already felt out of place there, and they already had their doubts. Hell, the reason they grew to have such a strong bond as angels to begin with was because they were outcasts, the ones who didn't fit in and were looked down on.

Mammon was close to being cast out and no one knew how to deal with him, Lilith was too chaotic and far away from being the ideal angel, Beel couldn't control his strength and destroyed everything around him, Belphie had no interest in following tasks, had a unique fascination for humans and preferred spending time in the Human World than the Celestial Realm, etc. And Lucifer was the one who took them in and accepted them as they were because even though he was far from an outcast and looked like the perfect angel on the outside, he still had his internal conflicts and struggled under pressure just as much in secret.

All of them suffered living there. Even Simeon opened up to MC about how he thought that angels weren't allowed to have dreams and that he probably wouldn't have found out otherwise had he stayed in the Celestial Realm. And that was on Nightbringer, not an old card from the OG but a recent one, so what's going on here?

It could be Solmare's way of setting things up for Raphael & Michael to become recurring characters since they don't want them to be seen as the bad guys (shout out to @cnl0400 for being the first to talk about this), but they don't need to flip the script and change the brothers' established feelings towards the Celestial Realm and God for this to happen. Raphael and Michael are also victims of the way angels are conditioned to live and are likely just as traumatized and have as many issues as the brothers, which developed from the strict rules they have to follow to be considered "good angels", the War, etc.

And we already had moments in SWD that showed that the brothers still care for Raphael & Michael and vice versa, despite everything that happened between them (though the same can't be said about the CR and God). So why not explore that, instead of having their view of the realm as a whole change so drastically with no explanation?

The brothers not only look at the Celestial Realm fondly now but would happily visit. The place where their worst memories took place and where so many of their loved ones died, the main source of their traumas and the traumas of everyone who survived the war. I mean, just before NB Simeon was harshly punished for saving MC's life and cursed with mortality, just another reason for them resent the CR and their strict rules. And don't even get me started on Father.

Assuming that their goal is to write a redemption arc for the angels who didn't take the brothers' side during the war and paint the CR in a better light so players won't hold a grudge against Michael & Raphael, this isn't a good way to go about it. Burying everything under the rug and acting as if the brothers just came to change their minds over time is insane because we didn't see anything that could've led to that development. Yes, we were gone for months but it lasted so long in the timeline we were taken from that no one even noticed our absence. So what major event could've happened while we were gone that led to this?

Unless this is all part of an overarching plot where we find out that these aren't the brothers we know or our original timeline, the "we're cool with God and the Celestial Realm" ordeal is just frustrating and makes no sense for the characters as we know them.

[we-stan-cale]

I meant to post something about when Cale received the letter from the God of Death, but that whole bit is just too damn good. I basically focused on reading it and didn't really think of writing about it.

This is where we truly start to learn about Kim Rok Soo's past. There were a lot of teasers before - learning that his Korea has monsters, that he was a Team Leader, that his company dealt with monsters and corrupt guilds. That he had an ability like Record.

There were some flashbacks, especially to some of his interactions with Choi Jung Soo (who we learned died before him back when Cale had that memory after fighting the golems) and Lee Soo Hyuk...

And then we got the letter from the God of Death, and Kim Rok Soo had a truly traumatic flashback to when they all died.

I think this is the first time we truly saw him shaken? The guy with the perfect memory, the guy who could record and playback everything, experienced something so traumatic that his records were broken.

We see that Kim Rok Soo was an analyst. A very good one. One able to predict a terrible monster (and thus felt guilty that his entire team died fighting said monster -though he seems to have worked through that. Some. Mostly.

We see how he interacted with his friends, really his family. And in a subordinate role, unlike most of what we've seen.

There's this bit where he'd overused his ability and had a bloody nose, and Lee Soo Hyuk tells him

‘Kim Rok Soo, wipe your nosebleed. You should get some rest if you have overloaded.’

Which contrasts with after their deaths, when he's briefing the reinforcements and notes

The reinforcements all focused on his explanation, but nobody said anything about wiping his bloody nose.

So much desolation from such a small thing.

And the request to retrieve their bodies! Over and over again, we've seen how much Cale cares about retrieving bodies and showing respect for the dead. Insisting on improving the graves at Harris Village, recovering all the remains from the Path of No Return, protecting the dead in the fight against Adin...

While that didn't solely come from this incident (the losses in his monster torn Korea played a role, this is why he truly understands how important that is for the ones left behind.

And we also see how he didn't want his team to fight that monster. He knew, with all his analytical skills, that it was too powerful. That it was likely that they'd all die. Even though even more people would die if they didn't (since the guild in that area had run away).

He straight up says how it made him feel.

The reinforcements had been too late. Boom. Boom. Cale’s heart suddenly ran wild. The sense of responsibility, anger, and sorrow that had made Kim Rok Soo’s heart boil had risen. 

A responsibility to stay alive (even if he doesn't really want to), to carry on in Lee Soo Hyuk's place ('I leave it to you').

We learn why he despises the concept of heroic sacrifice so much, why he works so hard to come up with plans that ensure nobody has to. That nobody is ever in the position where they feel compelled to do so (though if it does come to that, he'd rather be the one to do so... Than be the one left behind. Again.)

And there's this, that he thinks after Raon and Alberu break his flashback (such good friends and family) and he finishes the letter.

Cale knew that he was selfish and bad and that he cherished people who were important to him the most.

Selfish - because he wishes his team had run away and survived? Bad - because he knows that if they had, many more would have suffered instead?

He cares, he cares so damn much. And he also seems to hate himself quite a bit, though I say that not just because of this. Also his hypocrisy towards scars, where it's fine in Mary and Hannah and a sign of survival, but disgusting and something to hide in himself. That, and numerous other things that don't seem obvious at first because damn is he good at masking it and seeming normal, but yeah...

This whole scene is just so well done, means so much, answers so many of our questions, and once you know about it you can see how it affected everything.

Addendum: we also see a contrast between what Cale recalls here, and what Choi Han experiences with Choi Jung Soo's memories. Especially how he saw Kim Rok Soo use a metal board as a shield to defend him, and shortly after broke an arm.

Cale didn't mention that at all, didn't explain why he couldn't move when you he reinforcements came.

[fastcardotmp3]

stranger things au where when it's all done, instead of the general fandom usual of NDA's and cover stories, those guys at the NINA Project figure out a way to use that same technology that brought El's memories back to instead wipe the memories of anyone involved in saving the world/ anyone who saw anything abnormal and replace them with the mundane.

It's the only foolproof way to make sure that none of That gets out, to make sure that no one decides to go poking around again 10 years down the line or write a book or a song or a movie that hits a little too closely to the truth, and the government loves themselves something that seems like a foolproof plan.

But what does this mean for our heroes? They don't remember the circumstances that brought them together, only the cover memories that were inserted in their place. They don't remember why they care so deeply for one another because a summer scooping ice cream or a walk through the woods or an-- impromptu game of baseball???-- doesn't quite line up with how it feels.

It feels bigger than that. It feels--

There are explanations for Steve's scars, he remembers a big dog and a trip to the ER, he remembers getting in a car accident and the seat belt coming loose enough to get stuck across his throat instead of his chest. He remembers-- blood on his hands, blood on his clothes, the outline of a man torn half to shreds--

He remembers a bad trip with Robin, but sometimes Robin will say something and it's-- when we got drugged- took those- when we uh, y'know tried LSD that time?-- fuzzy because of the bad trip of it all.

It's easy to accept the truth as the truth, because he remembers. It's easy, for years, to let the truth be the truth, to forget entirely that there are pieces that don't make sense, that there's no reason he should be as close with Dustin Henderson as he is because wait how did we meet? over a missing cat? It's easy, to just let it be true, because the love is there and that's what matters.

The love is there for a year and two and five and ten and Steve's life isn't always easy, in fact he's gone through his fair share of therapists for the insomnia none of them can explain, the confusion that both him and Robin talk about sometimes in the dead of night but can't remember talking about in the morning.

Eddie gets medicated for some sort of psychosis for a while because he had years of these intense night terrors that he could never explain to people, screaming at the top of his lungs, but the minute he would try to tell a shaking and terrified Steve or Robin or Nancy or whoever was present what it had been about he would just sob with frustration because he couldn't remember.

Max has a condition which made her lose her eyesight rapidly as a teenager, who has chronic pain that no doctors have ever found a real cause for despite Steve dragging her to appointment after appointment with fierce protectiveness in his eyes and voice, a desperation that there has to be a reason.

It's easy to accept it as the truth, that they all gravitated towards each other because they're all just a little fucked up in unrelated ways. That they connected to one another because oh you get scared sometimes too? scared like I do? scared like no one else understands?

Lucas starts spontaneously sobbing when some Kate Bush song plays on the radio in 1992. Can't explain it except that it hurts.

Nancy goes to a shooting range and feels her hands go steady for the first time in years in '93. She's never shot a gun before.

El Hopper had a traumatic enough childhood that doctors say she likely won't ever remember all of it, that her brain is protecting her, that-- that's probably true. They're doctors. They know better than Steve, they know about everything except why Max's legs hurt so bad she can't move sometimes.

They know everything except why Eddie can't feel pinned down without having a visceral belief he's dying.

They know everything except why Jonathan swears that their old house used to be painted a different color in the living room.

There are explanations for Steve's scars. He remembers a big dog.

Sharp teeth. Snarling.

He's in his thirties when he kisses Eddie Munson for the first time, because they're fucked in the head in the same ways, because no one else has ever gotten close enough to see the scars and hear the screaming and feel the desperation and not suggested maybe you need bigger help than I can give.

He's a grown man, and it's easy to believe the truth of his past, easy to think that growing older means it's supposed to be a little fuzzy around the edges, and that's okay because this feels bright and clear and technicolor, this thing with Eddie who has run away and come back half a dozen times but always does come back.

Whether he goes to Seattle or LA, New York or Boston; whether he and Steve are in the same place at the same time for more than a couple of weeks, he always comes back, they always find their way back to each other no matter where in the world, except--

Except there.

Everyone left that town with a haste-- or was it one at a time? No, it was the Byers first to California, except-- didn't Will graduate from that school? No. Because El went to school in Chicago at the same time that Robin started college there and she helped Will apply to the Arts Institute and--

And it was Max who went to California-- no, she was from there, but she also-- did she go back?

And why does Steve remember the house he grew up in but the minute he tries to step outside the back door onto the patio in his mind, out by the-- with the blue light and--

"Have you ever been back?" he asks Eddie one day, 32 years old and living in Chicago now full-time together. Robin's just down the road, Nancy's at the Tribune, Argyle has been franchising that coffee shop of his, is opening a spot here in town near his friends who he met when--

"Back where?" Eddie trails his hands through Steve's hair, laying half on top of each other on the couch and listening to some old tape of Jonathan's.

"Where we're from."

Eddie's fingers slow to an almost still and Steve props himself up to watch the way his brow furrows in concentration.

"Why would we go back?" he asks, and Steve has this flash-- like they've had this conversation before.

Like they've talked about where we're from before, although the name of the place never crosses their lips.

"I dunno," Steve slumps into Eddie's chest. They're getting older though so maybe just, "nostalgia?"

"Are you feeling nostalgic?" A rediscovered rhythm to gentle nails across his scalp. Soothing.

"It's where we met," Steve says. It feels true, although when he thinks about it-- "remember? How we met?"

"I..." Eddie's jaw clicks. It does that sometimes, on the same side with the scar.

There are explanations for Eddie's scars too-- a drug deal gone wrong, too many guys with too may knives-- or was it broken beer bottles? They used those as weapons, yeah. Tattered clothes and tattered skin and blood on Steve's hands--

No. He wasn't there. Blood on-- it was Dustin who found him? No. Wait, it was Wayne. Wayne found him, yeah, exactly--

"We met there," Eddie's gripping Steve's hair now, by the root. "We met back there. High school. Do you want to go back?

"Why would we go--"

Steve startles himself with the words, like they just-- like they weren't a choice to say, like they said themselves, like--

"Ed."

Breathing is tight. Steve sits up straight and looks at him. Scars on his face. Eyes so big and deep they hold endless histories--

"Eddie, do you want to go visit-- visit, uh, you know?"

"Why would we--" Eddie claps a hand over his mouth and hums out a sound of frightened discontent. "What. What the fuck."

"How did we meet, again?" Steve swallows. Eddie stands up, paces to the other side of the apartment.

"High school."

"How in high school?"

"Steve, I stopped taking those meds because they didn't help, but this isn't helping me not feel fucking certifiable either--"

"Eddie, I don't remember."

"Okay, so we're getting old!"

"We're not even middle aged!"

Eddie stops where he stands, shakes his head, and Steve watches him because it's easy to watch him, easy to look at the life they've lived and accept that they found each other, fell in love, because no one else gets what it's like to be fucked in the head. To know what's true and still feel wrong in that truth.

To believe it and still get lost in it.

Eddie clenches down on the tremble of his jaw and his eyes go big and imploring.

"What's happening, Stevie?"

There are explanations for all of it, but no one has ever been able to explain Max's pain or Nancy's sharp-shooting or Robin and Steve's inability to get drunk without losing it or the color of the paint in the Byers' old living room in that fucking town that Steve can't even think the name of--

"I'm calling Robin," he says, already striding across the floor. "I want to go back."

There are explanations.

Maybe that's not good enough anymore.

[strawberrymochin]

Springtime Fushiguros♪

Context-: exploring the memories of childhood of fushiguros, marking the spring time of you and satoru gojo.

Basically im traumatized by all the stuff going on in jjk universe, so imma create my own happiness.

The pink cherry petals covered the grounds, sweet smell lingering in the air, distant laughs of some family echoed from the field you were wandering in, thinking about the reason, he might have called you here.

Satoru gojo, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer to be alive suddenly called you last night, after having months of no conversation. He said he needed a favour from you, what on the earth could it be?

It couldn't be related to any sorcery since you weren't in this field, atleast now you weren't. Moreover, he has the potential to wipe out an entire country with his limitless. He is the first member in his clan to inherit six eyes, his birth distorted the balance of the world. What favour would he need from someone like you?

Or maybe it's the higher ups!

Your eyes widened, chest tightened, almost struggling to take a proper breath at this thought. There's no way this would happen. You had been carefull. Carefull not to let it out.

'Sup!' your thoughts were cut short by the voice of the white haired guy, as you turned to face him. He was in his regular student uniform. Eyes as deep as the mysterious blue sea peeked from the sunglasses. He had a playful face as always, though you sensed something off in it and you knew what it was. Others might not notice but you do. You always have.

'I might not be much of help yk right?' you smiled a bit at him nervous at what demand he might make.

'Ahh, it's not something like that. I'm not forcing you, but—' his voice trails, maybe finding right words, 'I would like you to take care of someone.' He hesitated a bit, rubbing his hand on his neck, his eyes directed to a bench on the field.

Your heart skipped a beat.

Two kids. A glum faced boy, probably 5 or 6 years old, and a cute girl who seemed a bit older than the boy. They are probably siblings.

You should have known he was never yours.

'Zeni'ns.' he said fixing his sunglasses. The girl smiled a bit at you which you gladly reciprocated, while the guy refused to glance you a look. 'Umm, what did you say?' you asked again, not paying much attention before, busy observing the kids. (Not to mention your heart which was breaking in pieces)

'They are zeni'ns.'

'Zeni'ns?? They are not your kids?'

Gojo be like-: ಠಿ⁠ヮ⁠ಠ

'I'm 18. How could you expect me to have my own kids?' he said being sceptical.

A brief wave of relief washed your nerves. 'Oh' you couldn't help but let out a chuckle at your overthinking.

'They are Fushiguros—' gojo started to explain when, 'you just said that they were zeni'ns.'

'Would you lemme finish? They are basically toji's kids. He took in his late wife's last name.' a shudder ran through your spine at the mention of his name. How can he be so calm while talking about it?

He continued, 'Before his death, he mentioned about his kid, Megumi. Megumi fushiguro. The kid is about to be sold to the zenin clan.'

'But he's just a kid!'

'yeah, I don't think none of us would want that. So, i would take care of that and the financial support of both Megumi and his step sister Tsumiki fushiguro. But the problem is I won't be there all the time to look at them, as I'm continuously assigned with new missions.'

'So, you want me to supervise? I can do that, but I can't be much to prote—' he cuts off your words.

'Nah! Don't worry about that. I will protect the three of you. I want us to raise them together. While we date.'

You could believe your ears, when he said the last part. You had always liked satoru gojo, and once even drunk confessed him, embarrassing yourself to death. He never answered that though. Everything after that took a form of such stormy blunder. Satoru had to go through all those horrible situations, losing someone very close to him. A memory you hate and desperately want to trade. Everything fell apart and you all drifted away. And when you decided to leave, for everyone's safety including yours, satoru wasn't there.

'kk. I will help you raise them.' you gladly accepted, shooting a kind look at the kids. This was a dream come true to you. A family. You desired it desperately, wanting to have a family, ever since you lost yours.

'Thanks. Move in with me then.'

'Sure.' you smiled to yourself.

And that was the first time you saw Megumi and Tsumiki fushiguro, taking them in, staring your new life with Satoru gojo.

A new trail of memories are yet to be traced in the springtime of your life.

[shadowqueenjude]

SJM's zionism as seen in ACOTAR: Fae males were territorial, dominant, arrogant—but the ones in the Spring Court … something had festered in their training.

Haha, what? You were just fine with them before, they revered you and respected you, and now they're suddenly suspicious because they live under Tamlin? It's giving "Ohhhh look at Hamas see see see? All Muslims are terrorists!" And I'm almost certain this is the justification SJM uses for Feyre to genocide the shit out of them in ACOWAR. HyBeRn'S aCtIoNs ArE tHeIr OwN sounds remarkably like Israel using October 7th to justify killing babies, maiming children, and abusing the elderly. They use this same mentality towards CoN citizens too despite Mor coming from there. But notice how Mor is somehow white. “Most of your soldiers are dead.” Eris only blinked. “And the good news?” “Two of them survived.” Nesta studied every minute shift on Eris’s face: rage glimmering in his eyes, displeasure in his pursed lips, annoyance in the fluttering of a muscle in his jaw. As if countless questions were racing through his mind. Eris’s voice remained flat, though. “And who did this?” Cassian grimaced. “Technically, Azriel and I did. Your soldiers were enchanted by Queen Briallyn and Koschei to be mindless killers. They attacked us in the Bog of Oorid, and we were left with no choice but to kill them.” “And yet two survived. How convenient. I assume they received Azriel’s particular brand of interrogation?” Eris’s voice dripped disdain. “We could only manage to contain two,” Cassian said tightly. “Under Briallyn’s influence, they were practically rabid.” “Let’s not lie to ourselves. You only bothered to contain two, by the time your brute bloodlust ebbed away.” Nesta saw red at the words, and Cassian sucked in a breath. “We did what we could. There were two dozen of them.” Eris snorted. “There were certainly more than that, and you could have easily spared more than two. But I don’t know why I’d expect someone like you to have done any better.” “Do you want me to apologize?” Cassian snarled. Nesta’s heart began to pound wildly at the anger darkening his voice, the pain brightening his eyes. He regretted it—he hadn’t liked killing those soldiers. “Did you even try to spare the others, or did you just launch right into a massacre?” Eris seethed. Cassian hesitated. Nesta could have sworn she saw the words land their blow. No, Cassian had not hesitated.

Cassian and Azriel are super duper mega warriors and they didn't even bother to try and save Eris's soldiers despite knowing they're innocent, yet we're expected to take Cassian's side over Eris's. It's giving "Israeli soldiers are traumatized over all the civilians they were 'forced' to kill" DAMN RIGHT YOU SHOULD BE TRAUMATIZED!!!

But Keir must have known, too. And said simply to Rhysand, “I want out. I want space. I want my people to be free of this mountain.” “You have every comfort,” I finally said. “And yet it is not enough?” Keir ignored me as well. As I’m sure he ignored most women in his life. It's giving, "I will colonize your land, I will trap your people in Gaza strip and systematically oppress you, but hey we didn't kill you! Why are you mad??" Also the white feminism in that last line I can't. THERE ARE WOMEN TRAPPED UNDERNEATH THAT MOUNTAIN GETTING ABUSED EVERY DAY!!!! It's the same reason no one cares that Palestinian women don't have clean menstrual supplies and no anesthesia for clean births. Because Palestinians are brown.

So Keir knew about Velaris. The Hewn City knew about Velaris. Before Rhys wiped their memory. This is a lot like Israel occupying Palestine and rewriting history to make it seem like they're the country and Palestine are the occupiers. But they can't delete all the evidence, and now the truth has come out.

[blueteller]

Kim Rok Soo!Cale – aka. Poster Child of Trauma

Let's list down all the traumatic experiences of our MC, shall we? :)

Body stolen by the White Star's reincarnation

Being affected by the Curse of the God of Death ("All those you cherish shall die") before being born

Rebirth in Korea, shortly followed by the death of his parents

Taken in by his abusive uncle, Kim Seung Jong, who falls into alcoholism and gambling

Either the uncle dies due to his addictions or it gets so bad Kim Rok Soo runs away – that part was a bit unclear

Gets into the orphanage, where all friends or caretakers he comes to care about leave him, one way or another

Choi Jung Gun shows up when Kim Rok Soo is about to get murdered by the Hunters Park So Jin & Jung Yi-Rang, posing as his counselor & classmate

CJG or the Hunters wipe his memory of the event, which one did it is slightly unclear

Just as KRS's life gets stable enough that he gets a job while studying at a university, the Monster Apocalypse strikes and he loses everything all over again

KRS starves under the wreck of a building for a week before getting rescued by Lee Soo Hyuk

LSH takes him to a shelter where Park Jin Tae is in charge, just for him to turn into an abusive leader who bosses KRS around and beats him up

Then the monster wave shows up, killing everyone KRS got to know and care about at the shelter. Hello, Survivor's Guilt!

Somehow, he survives the rest of the monster wave, but that surely wasn't a pleasant experience, considering all shelters lost power for 24 hours and KRS probably experiences the minor ones failing in-person (who knows just how many different shelters he tried to run off to??)

After a time skip KRS gets into the company and we assume life is pretty good for a while for him, under LSH's guidance and the friendship with Choi Jung Soo, as well as their other Team members... except then the Unranked Monster shows up and wipes KRS's entire Team in one go, leaving him the last and only man standing. Hello, Survivor's Guilt Part Two!

KRS attends the funeral of LSJ & CJS, only to be talked about behind his back how he's not even mourning them correctly because he's not crying (those bastards-!)

He takes upon himself to avenge LSH and the rest of the Team, because they were supposed to have back-up from a Guild which all ran away and left them to die. I suppose KRS going after them went down similarly to how he later toppled Arm and the Mogoru Empire, so let's call it his "practice run on Dismantling Corrupt Organisations"

He takes over as the Team Leader as well, overworking himself to the extreme (not even taking a single day off in the first year) to have a 0% casualty rate

He distances himself from the team in order not to suffer another heartbreak if something happens to them (also, my theory is that KRS subconsciously recognized the pattern of his Curse and made himself believe that he's a bad, selfish person who doesn't care about others... just so the Curse don't kill off his Team members this time)

Once again, he gets his body stolen without his permission – and sure, that turned out well in the end, but still: not just once, but TWICE! NOT cool, God of Death!!

He's dumped with the knowledge and responsibility of the conflicts to come in this new world, which was supposed to be originally CJS's job to fix. Come on, it's not KRS's fault he lived instead!! Not he's gotta clean up THIS mess...

Once again, Cale overworks himself white trying to achieve World Peace, because HOW is he supposed to rest if the world comes to an end around him – AGAIN!?

Cale's body wastes away from continuously sacrificing himself (while claiming that he isn't sacrificing himself) and keeps falling into a coma from Ancient Powers overuse

He breaks his plate in the battle at the Gorge of Death and suffers terribly to get it fixed

He gets a premonition that he's probably going to die around November 8th – THANKS A LOT, GOD OF DEATH!!

He also goes through a traumatic test of seeing his worst fear at the Wind Island

He attracts the attention of several nasty characters: like Adin, the White Star, or the Sealed God... which is definitely NOT a good thing

The Sealed God casually tosses him into an alternate universe to relive his greatest trauma

Cale, once again, has to solve problems in another world because he literally cannot do anything else

Also the White Star is trying to murder him in the meantime, so he suffers great physical AND mental pain at the same time - hurray!

Oh and let's not forget, now he gotta defeat the Final Boss by stabbing himself. It won't hurt, the World Tree says...? WHY DON'T I BELIEVE YOU (Also the Sealed God made sure everyone saw everything, nice going there you son of a-!)

And just when the whole thing with the White Star and the Sealed God gets resolved, the HUNTERS SHOW UP, BECAUSE WHY THE HELL NOT

And now Cale gotta go around MORE UNIVERSES to solve ALL OF THEIR PROBLEMS. ..... H o w n i c e

To shortly sum all of Cale's traumatic experiences:

Bodysnatched: x2

Cursed with loneliness and misfortune

Orphaned

Abused

Lived in poverty

Target of attempted assassination (also used as bait for assassins)

Had his head tampered with

Lived through an apocalypse

Trapped under a building (hello potential claustrophobia!)

Starved

Chased down by monsters

Bullied

Survivor's guilt: x2

Betrayed by allies

Forced into leadership

*Body dysphoria due to scars (forgot to mention that earlier)

Impostor syndrome: x2 (for both becoming the Team Leader and becoming Cale Henituse)

Judged for coping mechanisms

Regularly gets hurt and falls into coma

Near death experiences: x[INFINITE]

Forced to experience his worst nightmare

Forced into self-harm

Forced to save the world: x? (at least 3 times and the counter is still rising!?)

Basically, this man's life maybe have gotten better in the past 2 years... but his life is still hell 😅

(I blame you, God of Death – WHY would you consider reincarnation a good punishment?? And a CONTAGIOUS CURSE which affects the victims of your target!? This is all your fault.

...But mostly the Hunters' fault, obviously.)

[intertexts]

OK HI. HELLO ROS <3 standing in ur doorway like this 🧍 listen i will read worm eventually i just have so much HAPPENING. ALL THE TIME RIGHT NOW. AND DONT HAVE THE TIME. and also jrwi has me in a chokehold u know how it b. ANYWAY. i need u 2 tell me as much about new haven wards as u can without like major insane spoilers for worm. little spoilers r ok. i watch/read everything with a few lil spoilers 2 look forward to anyway <3 i know nothing abt the universe of worm (<<has barely made a sizeable dent in it but god i will i prommy) but i wanna know what exactly nhw is about. how does the universe work. how do the powers work. what is the situation with the nhw how and why are they working together where did they all come from!! gimme the nhw lore!!! as much as u can!!!!! looking at u with the biggest saddest wettest eyes rn pls pls pls infodump abt nhw 2 me!!!!!!!! ros pls 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

HIII HI HI WHISKEY <333 UR INSANE FOR ASKING THIS. BTW. literally insane. grabbing u so hard by the shoulders there is a crazed look in my eye. anyway. FIRST i am tagging @stuck-in-the-ghost-zone here also!!!!!! bc it is his au as much as mine & i am NOT qualified 2 talk abt nhw mark n such. augh.

ok. ok. ok. new haven wards. putting the cut here.

so the basic movement of worm is that powers are from trauma. ridiculously simplified, but that's the base of it-- if you have superpowers, you have them because you went through traumatic events so severe to you specifically that it broke ur brain a little bit. the powers manifest in some way as a reaction to the traumatic scenario. (it is also more complicated than this. playing the spoiler card.) OR secret second option u put urself into indefinite debt to an extremely shadowy and ominous.... organization? person? shadow government branch? conspiracy? and get superpowers in a can, with like, a 10% chance they'll backfire and mutate u into some fucking terrible inhuman shit and then they'll completely memory wipe you and brand you and dump you off somewhere. not really relevant here. because the main way of getting superpowers is to be violently traumatized, cape society in worm tends to be grittier, more violent. there's more villains, the heroes are less shiny marvel or dc and more making whatever moral compromises they need to get the best outcome possible. at one point one of the main heroes in the city worm takes place in tells the sixteen-year-old protagonist "i don't care, there's a kill order out on them, just put a bullet in her brain if you see her, it's fine" and then a while later goes "yeah i'd vote for a kill order out on you guys too," directly to her face. worm is always going "hey, wouldn't it fucking suck if superheroes were real?". there are many horrifying and inhuman and violent threats. sexual and racial and physical violence aren't swept under the rug. these seventeen year olds are sent to crime scenes where flayed and gutted corpses are suspended from the ceilings because they're heroes! ^_^ but this aint about worm this is about the new haven wards!!!!! [wards are the child soldiers junior hero branch of the main syndicated/unionized hero organization, w/ placement in every major city alongside regional protectorate headquarters]

>key things for this au:

--william wisp changed his last name to bell when he moved to new haven (where his brother david lives :) and joined the wards, for another layer of anonymity ^_^ (he is. severely paranoid about his identity & privacy. <- also a Big and Heavy thing in worm/parahumans world. it's a Big Fucking Deal to unmask a cape regardless of their alignment)

-dakota never got the mechanical heart & biomedical augumentation so didn't meet mato cole at that time! he's still dakota damascus :]

-virion... idk why he's still virion & not vyncent actually. probably just because that was the name his parents gave him? we can't change it now though nhw virion & canon vyncent r two different guys to me...

-ashe is the unluckiest fucking guy in the world!!!

their powers are a little different from canon both bc of the ways powers work just being different frm how they do in pd & also because of the "they're always a reflection of the worst moment of ur life that you're just dragging around with you reminding you of it" thing. <333

wibby / whisperer is a breaker/shaker (<- power classifications meaning he has another form he shifts into, and also an area of effect] in his breaker form (crackling white-blue energy) he 1) can control how corporeal he is, or *how* corporeal he is, from "walks into the brick wall" to "doesnt notice there's a brick wall and goes straight through it", to "goes incorporeal to stick his hand in a guy's chest then resolidifies to instakill him" w/ some tradeoffs. & 2) shape/control energy manifestations in a fairly wide radius around him, where the power of the shaped energy is in proportion to the amount of recent death in the area-- if there's a ton of casualties in the area, he can do a lot more than he could in a peaceful small town in the middle of nowhere. the situation with his trigger event was him. growing up socially isolated and half convinced he was going crazy and everyone else Also thought he was fucking insane (deadwood is still haunted!! more haunted :]) for years & years + the loneliness + frustration + unsureness if he's actually the one just. losing it or if it's all really real + the constant feeling of being in danger, that the town is bad and malicious and out to Get you. anyway. he fell, take that as ambiguously as u do for that in canon, didn't die, but was severely injured & couldn't move. just laid there for maybe a day or so in the woods that wanted to kill him. anyway he triggered when he was found! the catalyst was not "the place that's been out to get me my entire life finally succeeded" but the helpless incandescent frustration of "actually nothing i ever do is going to make you understand. i've been trying for so fucking long to make you See It but you won't!!! you never will and you just think i'm crazy or stupid or making it up for attention even though it has such obvious fucking consequences and is manifestly Real!!" he was recruited to the wards by miss g herself, who was like hahahhahaa this kid could be a Really Fucking Big Problem if he doesn't have an eye on him!! ^_^ he never wanted to be a hero, and still doesn't, really, but he's terrified of accidentally hurting people & deadwood is like a weight around his neck and maybe things will be better if he just gets out of here. for a while they're not, of course. he just feels like. y'know. he's another sick thing that crawled out of deadwood, and his powers make that obvious. the way they interact with recently dead shit makes him sick!! living with david is awful-- a big, lovely, lonely high rise apartment, an older brother who barely bothers to speak to him, calls to their mom through the walls going "why is he here? why would you send him here? can he like, go anywhere else?"

virion sol / imprint is a trump (meaning his powers interact With other capes powers.) he can copy powers by touching other parahumans-- the copied power is just as strong as the original, whatever the original is, but he doesn't have an innate sense of how to use it; he can easily be overwhelmed or overstimulated by powers that involve a ton of sensory input, or accidentally loose cannon something he wasn't expecting and can't easily control. regardless, this is a fucking insane power to have. it's so cracked. like within the parahumans-- world, this is something so rare, especially being able to copy the full strength of the power. the very few examples in canon of something similar, the copied power is always inferior. his situation was similar to canon-- the greats were a team of independent heroes, & were like, extended family to virion. he grew up unpowered, but in the cape world-- so many aunts and uncles teaching him security, standard protocols, how to fight capes, how to run cape business and independent team business, how to handle guns and tasers and safely run background checks. y'know. a family's worth of professional knowledge. he never really wanted to be a cape, anyway, he was more than happy to do all the unpowered stuff at home that needed to be done. occasionally he came with them on patrol n stuff or snuck out to watch them. the greats' long term goal was prying out the lich, an extremely heavyweight warlord who had control over most of the city. virion's father struck a deal with the lich-- virion knows as little what the deal was For as he does in canon, but he double crossed the entire team. virion snuck along to the confrontation with the lich (setup) & watched his father turn & murder all of them. still not sure if he did it all himself or just watched as the lich's minions did it, but the way they knew all their weaknesses, how efficient and brutal and unexpected it was-- it was his dad feeding the information. virion stays frozen in shock and horror & hidden during all of this. can't do anything to help. is fucking useless, despite all he knows and has done. for the first time in his life, he wished he had powers, that ram and min and everyone could have taught him how to have and use their powers like they taught him everything else. he triggered watching it all happen. after this, he went on the run, terrified that someone would Know that he saw, that they'd be coming for the loose ends, that his dad would come back for him. all he has of his family is a couple piecemeal things he could grab before he ran-- ram's favorite revolvers, a holy medal of alphonz's, some of his mom's sturdy jewelry. anyway, he ran, moved to a different city, new haven. started figuring out his powers, started targeting specifically other capes who were up to bad shit-- minor to mid league villains, the occasional local hero who would Look squeaky clean, but after their sudden death dirty secrets would come out, etc. all very low-key, very subtle. none of the disappearances or deaths looked related. during this period he is SO fucked up. he is so fucked in the head. he's incredibly hypervigilant and paranoid and jumpy (good at looking unbothered and still clocking every single sound and movement and always facing doors and windows), mired in the grief and guilt and horror at. watching his entire family slaughtered and life shattered in a night. sleeps for no more than two hours or so at a time. even on top of the lich and his dad... what he's been doing puts an even bigger target on his back. doesn't have time or heart for anything but the dirty work. is dissociating through the periods of time where he's not actively hunting someone down or on the job. silhouette is the one who puts the pieces together-- of course he's on the protectorate (hero organization) radar. sure he's only been targeting bad guys, but how clean each one was? how well covered they all are? how whoever this is has allegedly killed at least almost two hands' worth of capes in cold blood by now? sets off alarms, if you're looking!!

anyway, silhouette tracks him down, says hey, i know who you are, i know what happened. you're just a kid. you join us, and you'll gain the resources and skill to be able to get revenge. aren't you tired of running? now... virion took to this fast and well when he did, but. before it all, he was just a teenager. despite the family business, he was just some guy! he helped his mom cook and got help with schoolwork at the kitchen table and his cool aunts took him out for lunch. he never wanted this or expected it. and of course he doesn't trust the heroes farther than he can spit, but... it's something. it's better than this. anything has to be better than the way he's driving himself into the ground. & also, of course. if silhouette can find him. anyone else who's looking for him can too. (i don't think he's even registered on the radar of anyone. his dad didn't actually survive the lich, obviously, & he was the only other one who really knew abt virion + nobody knew he triggered. he's just. so fucking paranoid.)

dakota damascus / failsafe is a thinker/mover. he 1) has a precognitive sense of any pain that anyone in a radius around him will feel in the next short amount of time. this is-- varyingly difficult to block. he can't just Choose not to feel it, although the intensity of the feeling, again, varies. mostly proportionally to how severe the pain actually is, or how many people are hurt, but, with time, he can dull or sharpen it + follow the threads of it to discern Who exactly is in pain, rather than just an ambient sensation. 2) is VERY fast & has matching enhanced cognitive speed. these two abilities work SO good together, both in combat situations & also just day to day patrolling. man. i love dakota. anyway, he triggered young-- he was out with his parents (maybe 7/8) and they got caught in an attack by siberian-- a genuinely indestructible, incredibly powerful villain who can just,,, run her hand through a concrete foundation like it's butter & collapse buildings, or scoop out peoples insides in a heartbeat. and also likes to eat people, like, raw and bloody after dismembering them. whatever level of ultraviolent shocking horror u are imagining. double it. anyway. they got caught in the scene of this attack, dakota got separated from his parents in the panic and stampede and rush to get out-- he's seven! it's terrifying levels of panic and claustrophobia and people shoving and trampling and he's not gonna leave without his parents!! of course not!! he triggers from the fear and the disorientation and the panic & he can't find them & he's trying to fight the crowd but he barely comes up past their knees & there's awful sounds of fighting & he's close enough to see her... things are doubly disorienting with the echo of the agony from everyone who gets Fucking Siberianed. he sees most of the fight. um. a while after she's driven away and it's finally finished he finds what's left of his parents. there's a beat in worm, during an encounter with siberian and the Big Heroes, the prime force equivalent, where they just.. give her a victim to chew on because it makes her happier and less of a nightmare to fight. which is something i think about frequently. anyway, after this things are kind of loose, similar to canon. he does the same shit. it's also quieter and you can feel less people hurting the higher up u are. yk? OH GOD. YEAH. at some point after this we still have not hammered it out. he confronts the slaughterhouse 9 (the supervillain group that attacked/siberian is part of) about it & gets his face slit open (half chelsea smile style) & makes a deal to either kill a guy in [n years] or that guy will kill him & several hundred other people!!!!!!!!!!!! dakota damascus killing a man baked into the bones of nhw!!!

anyway he & cat still fell. he underwent a second trigger event when this happened, actually-- the panic and desperation of that situation + the way it echoed his first trigger, etc. this is also super fucking rare, btw. there are very few second triggers & it is almost Never good. (u cannot trigger more than twice + a second trigger is always a refining or an improving of the intent of the original trigger) so that's where the speed etc. came from. tide found him, gave him. a better support system (low bar!!) + a real purpose in joining the wards. i have a lot of feelings abt this.

ashe / auxiliary / muse is also a shaker/breaker!!!!! his backstory i cannot talk too much about because it is Big Spoilers. but he is a fucking powerful telekinetic (around when he joins the wards, having not really used his power in years, he has an upper weight limit of a couple times his body weight & a fairly large radius of effect). he also has a breaker form that only triggers in certain situations & if he really really pushes himself to breaking w/ his powers-- when he enters it, he loses lucidity, for the most part, & starts warping and stretching and breaking space-time in strange, dreamlike ways-- the pavement melts, or everything gets bouncy, or cars and concrete chunks and things with no business moving float slowly around like balloons, or he pulls and crumples reality to move without really moving.... it gets Real fucking bad, real fast. ANYWAY. he eventually sneaks out one night, walks to a gas station to get. snacks. it-- okay, i'm fucking linking mac's post, i CANNOT summarize all of this concisely. go read that. so. that's ashe's deal!!!!!!!!!

THERE'S ALSO. MARK. ASK MAC ABOUT MARK i have typed this entire thing out on myfucking phone keyboard i literally Cannot keep going. help. and also their mark stuff is so fucking good its so. auuuhhgh. AND ALSO DAVID BELL. WHO WORKS FOR THE ORGANIZATION THAT SELLS U SUPERPOWERS IN A CAN W A CHANCE OF GETTING TURNED INTO AN UNRECOGNIZABLE MONSTER AND DOES HUMAN ABDUCTION AND EXPERIMENTATION. AND JADE AND X AND ALLEN ARE THE FREEDOM CITY WARDS AND GRAYSCALE SHAKES OUT EVEN FUCKING WORSE THAN IT DID IN CANON. YEAH.

SO. YEAHG. THATS. THATS THE MOST OF IT. um. yeah. theyre a dreadful little polycule they are. So fucking clingy they r traumabonded. like little trembling chihuahua puppies. separation anxiety and all. virion and dakota share a comfy old victorian house in a suburban neighborhood maybe a fifteen minute walk from the protectorate hq. wibby starts out living w/ david and eventually just... all his stuff moves over to their place. their clothes r all mixed up they know each others blood types they're all sleeping together on the couch. eventually their house gets blown up. they all get various flavors of nightmare & are 1 million shades of debilitatingly mentally ill but like-- it works. they r good for each other. theyre good together. do not separate them. etc. i'm not even gonna fucking START talking abt their dynamics other than that but like. i mean. if you want a repeat of THIS u can always ask!!!!!!!

[beevean]

"Surge and Kit didn't kill Clutch because he has the answers to their past that they want! They still care about their past! Plus they're scared traumatized kids!"

The issue opens with Surge gleefully announcing to Clutch that they want to quit. If they want to break the deal, it means they care less about the answers than their newfound desire of being "heroes". No, they didn't have a "Shadow moment" of deciding that the past no longer matters. They had it offscreen :)

Clutch's only leverage is "I can make you monsters just as easily", implying that he can ruin their new positive reputation. Which is, again, something Surge and Kit should not give a shit about. What happened to the girl who "aims to misbehave"? Why does she suddenly care about how people perceive her?? Not too long ago, she laughed at Whisper's scorn and praised her for not trusting her!

You're right, Surge. I know you hate when people tell you what to do. You have always butted heads with Starline when he prevented you from causing mayhem, even before learning the truth about him: your trauma response has always been attacking, not cowering. And look at Clutch, making a fine impression of Starline! Oh, no, Surge went from being under the thumb of one abuser to being under the thumb of another! She even points it out!

So. Starline could wipe your memories. Clutch's only power is to paint you as the bad guys you are. What exactly is stopping you from attacking an old, defenseless man who can't physically do anything to you? What is stopping you from doing this to Clutch?

Waterboard and electrocute Clutch and tell him you'll be the one dictating the terms! You are not powerless, guys! You were built to go toe-to-toe with Sonic and Tails!

So is it just a mental block? Is it morals? The fear of losing your newfound reputation? Really? Being clapped at once was enough to rewrite 232 sessions of brainwashing that led you to be this?

And yes, as a reminder, Surge knows that the PR is Sonic, she saw him. By all means, she should be delighted to fight him, regardless if it's an order from Clutch or not. But I guess she just got over... uhhh the very essence of her being?

I don't even like Surge and somehow I'm offended by this sloppy writing

[iamdeceived]

Caresses.

A/n: Hello, I came to wish you a good reading!

Warning: A few moments with Rocket's traumatizing past. (WE HAVE NO SPOILERS FOR THE THIRD MOVIE!)

(I didn't mention gender)

🦋Gender neutral reader🦋

*♡*

You realized there was something wrong with Rocket. He looked…sad.

You've never seen a raccoon so crestfallen. Rocket didn't joke, didn't smile, didn't speak to anyone. He was just in his little corner tinkering with his technologies.

You looked at him with a sinking heart. You love Rocket. He is very important to you. Seeing him so sad breaks her heart.

At one point in the day, you sighed deeply and went to sit next to the raccoon.

"Hey Y/n, could you pass me that piece that's on your side?" You gently pointed to a square piece of metal. "this piece ?" He agreed.

His voice was low, almost a whisper. Unlike the always scandalous tone you've grown accustomed to hearing in his voice.

"Rocket…" He stopped what he was doing, and looked at you. His eyes didn't have their usual sparkle. You knew something was wrong with him.

"Are you well?" He quickly turned his attention back to his trinkets. "What a stupid question, Y/n! Of course I'm fine!"

Something was wrong.

The truth is that Peter and he were having another one of their daily silly arguments. It happened so often that nobody cared anymore. So Rocket ended up saying something really offensive to Peter, who returned the insult by talking about what hurts Rocket. Your past.

Rocket is still very sensitive to everything that happened. But he wouldn't bend over backwards to show he was hurt.

But you noticed.

"Was it because of what Pete said?" He was startled. His shoulders slump. Damn smart human! Who told you to know how to read his thoughts that way?"You don't have to lie or hide anything from me, Rocky! You know I love you a lot, and you know I'll support you!"

His voice cracked. Almost like he was going to break down in tears right there in front of you. "Peter is an idiot! He talks too much!"

You reached out your hand to touch Rocket's ears. You wanted to pet him. You've always imagined yourself doing this. Rocket's fur felt very soft and was very shiny. It must feel wonderful to stroke its fur.

Before you could actually touch him, Rocket turned sharply. The memories came too quickly to her head. The changes in your body. The pain, the despair. His first reaction was to bite you as hard as he could. Blood trickled down his hand.

You startled, and with a cry you pulled away from him.

"Oh shit… look, I really didn't want to do this… it's just… I… I…"

He turned around, picked up a cloth that was on his desk and offered it to you.

"I'm sorry for hurting you… it wasn't my intention!"

The traumatic memories still swirled in the raccoon's head. He remembered the tests, and how he was used. How no one really cared about him until that moment.

Now he had friends. Before, he was just scared.

You wiped your bloody hand and sat down on your thighs on the floor. He wrung his hands nervously. His ears were cocked down.

You understood everything.

"You have a lot of traumas, don't you?" He nodded his head slightly. "I'm sorry Rocky… I shouldn't try to touch you without telling you or asking first… it was my mistake!" He dropped his eyes.

Before you could have time to think, Rocket grabbed your right hand with both of his paws, and placed it over his head.

The feel of soft raccoon fur on her fingers was wonderful. You massaged his head, running your fingers over his fluffy ears.

His ears pricked up and down in accordance with your touch. He let out a satisfied sigh.

"You know… It's not so bad!" You smiled at him. He smiled at you.

"I can pet you whenever you want, as long as you don't rip a piece out of my hand when I try!"

He laughed.

"I promise!"

[underoospeterparker]

hie !! hurt/comfort request <3 w peter sutherland where reader is like a doctor or a nurse and she comes home super sad and like not able to talk because of something traumatic that happened? but eventually she opens up and he just comforts her <3 gah i love him!! and i love u sm ur writing is so beautiful <33

thank you !! hope this okay lovely ₊˚⊹♡ (718 words)

warnings; death, low self esteem, reader has a traumatic experience and feels she is responsible for the death of a patient

the lobby to your and peter's apartment was freezing, colder than it had ever been before. it was evident that you'd been crying, and you tried your best to cover it up before you fished out your keys from your purse.

"time of death, 9:37pm," you had said to the other surgeons in the room, voice trembling. someone started to cover up the body, which you couldn't look at anymore.

you didn't realise you were staring at the floor, unmoving, until you were ushered out of the room. you heard someone talking, but you were too disturbed to listen, until you thought about a question. "who's going to tell them?" you murmured to the person gripping your arm.

"what?" you looked up to mia staring down at you, confusion and concern evident in her eyes. she knew this was the first time you'd experienced a patient dying on your watch, and it was bound to have an impact on you.

"who's going to tell the family, mia?" you asked, louder this time.

she looked shocked that you'd asked that question, even though it was a valid one. "don't worry about that," she said. "why don't you just go home, try to get a good night's sleep. your shift's already over."

"but-"

"no buts," she interrupted. "please."

grabbing your coat, you started heading towards the doors of the hospital, until you heard the crying. you tried to not look back but you couldn't help it. his wife was sobbing, holding onto her son who was trying to calm her but was crying himself.

you couldn't look any longer. tears filled your eyes as you left the hospital, eventually running down your cheeks as you climbed into your car. for god's sake, the guy was a husband, a father. they didn't deserve that. he didn't deserve that. why couldn't you just save him?

blinking out of the memories of tonight, you unlocked the door and stepped inside, trying your best to not start crying again.

"sweetheart?" you heard peter's voice call out from the living room. dropping your bag to the floor, you made your way over to him, vision already blurring. forcing a smile onto your face, you sat down next to him, staring at your sock-clad feet on the fluffy carpet.

you didn't meet his eyes as he quietly asked, "what's wrong?"

"nothing," you responded, still not looking at him. "jus' tired. had a long day." pausing, you added, "i'm gonna head to bed."

your boyfriend was too perceptive, and so he knew that you were lying. he followed you into the bedroom after giving you a few minutes to yourself.

you were curled up in the corner of the room, pajamas already on. you were trying so hard to stop the sobs that were pouring out from your body.

peter knelt in front of you, coaxing you out of your shell with soft, gentle hands. "oh, princess," he murmured.

"i'm sorry," you hiccuped, tears falling. you fell into his outstretched arms, one hand cupping the back of your head and the other softly rubbing your back.

"no, please," he said. "don't apologise. you've done nothing wrong."

at his words you pressed your face into his sweater, wet tears soaking it, but he couldn't care less. he only cared about you, about comforting you.

pulling yourself away, you lifted your hand to wipe away the remaining tears, but your boyfriend did that for you. his hands stayed on your face as you tried your best to recount what happened.

"i couldn't save him, pete," you sobbed. "a-and that's the hardest thing about this job. i can't always save everyone."

his heart broke at the pain you were going through. he had hoped that nobody would ever have to experience what it felt like to have that burden. "you did all you could," he said softly, voice filled with emotion. "that's all that matters, sweetheart. it's not your fault."

he gave you a kiss to the top of your head, helping you to stand up and leading you into the bed. "it's not my fault," you murmured, mainly to yourself.

he nodded, immensely proud of you. "it's going to take time," he responded, pulling you back into the warmth of his chest. "but you'll get there. i promise."

[yyxandere]

BITTERSWEET SCENARIO!

Let’s say that after the events of Yakuza 3 you were traumatized by the sight of your spouse in intensive care after he was literally filled with lead from a turret by his enemies, and as you guessed, it’s your one from favourite characters – Osamu. Since this period, you have developed one habit - you always check his heartbeat by placing your ear against his chest. Most often you do this, let’s say tradition, after nightmares and the rhythm of his heart always calms you down, assuring you that your loved one is still nearby, which makes you involuntarily mutter quietly under your breath so as not to wake him up: "Oh, thanks god that's you’re still alive... The sound of your the beating heart is the sweetest sound of my life".

-ˋˏSINCERELY YOURS. . . ->

MY BELOVED HUSBAND AAAA I'M GLAD THAT PEOPLE KNOW THAT HE'S MY FAVEE

I erm kinda made a small fic, SORRY I GOT CARRIED AWAY! (there's brief mention of Kashiwagi and [Readers] child, hope you don't mind that😭😭)

-

The beeping monitor could never calm you, nor did it help to lessen the anxiety of the day. In fact, the steady beat made the anxiety even worse than if it were a regular alarm because every time it made you feel like everything in your life was slowly unraveling apart and then being swallowed whole into the abyss of sadness.

Your husband Osamu is in the hospital bed as your tear-stained face kisses his pale knuckles, holding on to them tightly without letting go ever since you came to the hospital. He is still sleeping, and he looks absolutely peaceful, just like how he looks after every surgery or treatment he undergoes. You are sitting at his bedside, trying to avoid looking at his face because it is all you can see when you close your eyes. But sometimes it gets harder and you end up staring at him like there is nothing in the world more important than staring at him.

Your heart aches whenever you visit, and to add that, you weren't even sleeping well because of the recurring nightmares, the only time you are at ease is when you are near him, to be exact, your ears near his heart, listening for the comforting thump as his pulse slowly eases your soul and calms you down.

The hospital door opened and you immediately went back to your seat, not wanting anyone to see such a vulnerable action you were doing, you then wiped your tears to see who it was, and it was none other than your nineteen-year-old daughter, Mizuki. She didn't even need to analyze what you were doing, she simply walked up next to you and hugged her dear mother, and you immediately reciprocated the gesture and pulled her tight, burying her head in your neck as you tried to catch your breath, overwhelmed with emotions as she squeezed her arms around her mother.

"Don't worry mama. Papa is much stronger than you think. . . "

-

It had been over two years since the tragedy happened and now, almost three years later, your husband has been doing fine, heck excellent even, but what happened the reassuring memories always mess with your sleep and Osamu wasn't blind to your worries, he would give you calming tea, he would even make comforting meals or make bouquets to help your nerves relax, but the most important thing was that you could get a good night's sleep because it wasn't healthy for you to stay awake during sleepless nights. Osamu knew that you had nightmares about the terrible events, and he felt sorry that you had to lose sleep because of him, but inside of him swells whenever you hug him for comfort, the memories could come back in the middle of the day and you can't help it but hug him in front of many people, it's rather flustering but he can't push you away. (onlookers nearby think it's cute to see an old couple hugging, little did they know that this was the same dude that isolated you from your loved one so you could depend on him)

Yet nothing squeezed his heart more than that one fateful night.

-

A loud gasp and a sudden movement woke up Kashiwagi and to no surprise, it was your nightly terror, even with the lights out the only kind of brightness was brought by the blue moon, illuminating the room slightly so that he could see you laying at his side, his arms around you while you were clutching his hand. Your face was twisted in agony, eyes clenched shut while you were gasping for air through the tears flowing freely like streams down your cheek. A single drop fell onto the sheets beside him as his wife began to sob, shaking violently and trembling in fear.

That tear managed to make Kashiwagi wake up, not wanting you to experience any more of the nightmare you were having. He gently put his hand on your shoulder, "Shh, it’s alright, (Y/n) … it’s just a bad dream", he said in a low voice. Yet even with his comforting words, your eyes couldn't help themselves from having tears waiting to flood out their sockets and pour down on his skin. That simple gesture made Osamu feel as if someone just kicked his stomach hard. As he tightened his grip around your shoulders, making sure not to hurt you, you suddenly stopped crying and turned to look at your husband with teary eyes and a pained expression as you whispered.

"Oh, thank god that you’re still alive… The sound of your beating heart is the sweetest sound of my life".

How can Kashiwagi say no when you look like that? It was impossible, but that didn't stop him from sighing in defeat. He looked at his hands for a few seconds before lifting them up and wiping away some stray hairs behind your ears. After that, he kissed your forehead lovingly before whispering.

"I love you too. The tears in your eyes hurt much more than what happened to me. . ."

[random-things-of-mine]

𝘓𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥

Grayscale Wally x GN Reader

Warning: Angst

- - - - -

Y/n was watching the television, trying to follow the movements of the yoga instructor on screen. Feeling in a funny mood they decided to try it out for themselves.

Sadly you where not build for this.

The ringing of the front caused them to lose focus once again, falling face first on the carpet. Groaning in pain they slowly got up.

It was already dark outside, normally no one would even consider going out at a hour like this.

"What happened?!"

Y/n asked in worry and panic as a sickly looking Grayscale stood shivering on their porch. He was terrible shape, even more than usual.

He was fumbling with his hands, not meeting their gaze. He never intended to involve others in his problems.

"Home kicked me out."

Grayscale mumbled, trying to mentally block out the conflict earlier today. He and it had a fight so to say and now he was homeless (+ a little more traumatized).

This neighborhood wasn't safe in the darkest hours, without a house he had no protection or basic living necessities.

"I totally understand it if you don't want me around." He sniffled. "With this sickness of mine...I don't want you or anyone else to turn grey either."

"Silly, I'll always be here for you. In sickness or health." They reassured. "Please come inside."

You would be there for a friend in need.

The human gently took his hand, leading the puppet inside their living room.

Grayscale stared at their Y/n's hand, feeling their warmth and seeing the color fade on their fingertips where he touched them.

He felt repulsed by taking away the light and brightness of his favorite neighbor.

Tears welt up in his eyes and he began breaking down, sobbing uncontrollably. Feeling pathetic and helpless.

"I'm just a dumb puppet... this world isn't even... it's all fake- Why do you even bother with me, I don't deserve it." He mumbled to himself, grey tears dripping from his eyes.

"Shhsss it's alright I'm here." They softy whispered, using their hand to wipe some of the tears away.

It broke their heart seeing him like this.

"It's okay to feel sad right now, it's natural. I just... hope that you don't stay like this for too long. I don't like the idea of you being sad."

"Why do you care so much?"

Y/n stared at him in silence for a moment, thinking back of their memories with him. Grayscale was the first to welcome them.

He helped with befriending the other neighbors when they were socially awkward. Always so charming and sweet.

Things changed when Grayscale got sick, he acted more distant. Bottling up his feelings and emotions but he was still Y/n's most precious friend.

"Cause I love you. I can't let someone I love suffer like this." They replied, giving him a affectionate look.

Their hand was still holding his but now they used the opportunity to intertwine their fingers together more intimately.

"Oh... you do? You really do?!" He shouted in surprise, feeling like he was just hearing things.

A dark grey color tinted his cheeks, he tries using his free hand to cover up his face. He hadn't felt very loved in a long time.

It made him feel a bit better on the inside, a happy tingly feeling.

"Now it's time for the half forward bend-" It sounded from the sound system.

Grayscale looked back and forth between Y/n and the television trying to see if he was doing it right. The two had settled on watching what was on the screen... which where yoga instructions.

It was embarrassing to say the least, neither one of them was very flexible. Though it was a good activity to keep his mind of the negative things.

"Your doing great!" Y/n shouted supportively as they where trying to keep their legs straight and back as flat as possible while touching the carpet with their hands.

"My back is killing me." Grey whined, attempting to copy the movements. Trying not to blush at the strange positions they where both in.

"We follow it up with the cat-crow stretch!" It came once again from the sound system.

WHO NAMED THESE POSES-

- - - - -

[cyberexo]

FANTASTIC BYUN | A Byun Baekhyun Series

“You were supposed to die!”

warning: this series contains cursing, mentions & includes violence, detailed injury, and death.

GUIDE POST

word count: 1.2K

FANTASTIC BYUN | ONE

"So you're still in transition?" all three of you gazed at the newest edition to your group, Bonnie, Bennett had found her on campus ground doubled over from a pain she was feeling in her wrists, so he'd offered her a little help and brought her to meet the rest of you who were once just like her.

Why any of you were the way you were is unknown, you weren't born into it, it just sort of happened- there was a pattern where before becoming "superhuman" a traumatic event had taken place before, which makes sense however, non of you could figure out exactly what went down in your personal lives before this. It was as if the transition had wiped your memory clean of its cause.

Bennet had been the first, then you, Ben, and now Bonnie, it wasn't hard to come across one another, you all attended the same university, all lived on campus, it wasn't friendly at first; no one wanted to be taken advantage of; understandably, but the more time you spent around each other you were bound to become more trusting and open.

And that's how it's been for the past two years, explorative, fun, and the thrill was worth waking up for. Swinging around campus & the city at night with no care in the world- it was peaceful. Bennett had also scheduled random practice days in case any of you were to ever be in danger- a simulation to teach you what to do as well as what not to do.

Ben had joked around about going around the city and stopping crime- but this wasn't a spider-man movie, you were nothing in comparison to the arachnid icon but it would be a lie to say that it wasn't tempting. Still the risk wasn’t worth the reward in your eyes.

"I mean- I still can't do what you all can do so I must be," one hand holding onto her wrist to ease the burning pain you've all powered through before- it hurt like hell. "Well you've got us now, and it's best to not talk about it with other people who aren't.. us- you don't want people outing you or for word to go around about you being crazy," "Yeah- I was called a marvel moron for six months all because of a simple slip up so be careful," You added.

It was easy being this way in this generation, no one would actually take you seriously; the name calling was the most any of you got.

People don't buy a word you say until you physically did something what would lead them into believing you. It would probably be amusing to see the looks on their faces for a little while but of course it had its consequences- such as loose lips & social media, from one person to the next to a couple thousand and all of a sudden you're being mobbed by people you don't even know.

You had to approach people with caution.

Especially on a bad day, a bad day being; having wrist spasms, you can't hold anything without shaking or you'd shoot a web without meaning to- when you're experiencing a bad day it is best to stay in your dorm and away from classmates and from each other, sudden jolts in your joints that can cause a drastic change in whatever physical form you were taking, one second you're sat in your chair and the next your cross legged on the ceiling- you wouldn't even know where to start an explanation for that to anybody. Let alone a class of over 200 students who's first response was to probably record it all.

"How long does it take till the pain goes away?" she asked, "Depends, for me it was only a couple of days- oh and don't take any painkillers, it does nothing." Bennett advised, you & Ben nodding in agreement- "For me it took around half a year, it won't hurt 24/7 it'll get better with time. You need to concentrate on your mentality and ability to get the webs going, the more you release the less it'll hurt & soon enough you won't even feel it,” you added, offering her a reassuring smile that she wasn’t on her own, which she reciprocated.

This intervention made you wonder if you were going to keep coming across more people like yourself, you hoped not- thankfully all of you seemed to be good people who didn't abuse their powers to inflict harm on others, however, there is no guarantee that the next will be the same.

And about that you were right.

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

Baekhyun who was many miles away from your group sat at his desk moping instead of studying for his upcoming final exam in architecture, he couldn’t think of anything more boring, but if he wanted to lead a seemingly normal and unsuspecting life- he needs to do what needs to be done.

Previous to his transition he was a outgoing, sensitive and down to earth earthling- and that all didn’t come crumbling down right after, he was excited and uncontainable at first, didn’t do anything that would cause harm to himself or anybody around him, it was fun- really fun, and like every other good thing, it had an end.

His excitable persona faded, the feeling of being special and feeling like somebody who was above average significance went with it- nothing in particular triggered the mood swing, at least nothing that he could remember, which of course nagged at him, he wanted to know where it all started to go wrong but he couldn’t figure it out- frustrating and angering him further, telling himself he must’ve just gotten “bored” to suffice the itch to know.

The acts of terror started off simple, easily disguised as a friendly prank or something that he didn’t intent for to go so far in case of any extreme reactions he’d get from friends- whom he’s now lost, or strangers he found interesting enough to meddle with. Unfortunately that all grew old for him quite quickly.

Quickly moving onto business that was non of his, messing with people he shouldn’t be messing with- as well as putting his hands on items he had no business fiddling with or taking. After a couple of fights and wrapping several groups of men to a single lamppost he decided he wanted to chase after the adrenaline by doing something bigger- something worse.

And there was no stopping him.

There was nobody around that was like him, to his knowledge at least, no one with a sliver of resemblance, nothing ever good comes from not being around people who are like you- sure, it’s good to surround yourself with different people every now and again but the feeling of utter loneliness engulfing your existence was unavoidable, especially for a man like Baekhyun.

He had wished there was someone around to share this power he carried, his mind however would dismiss the thought as soon as he’d have it- his being feeling threatened by nobody but the thoughts occurring in his own mind, the weigh of his own internal negativity blurring the scenes of what it would truly be like if he were to come across a person as himself.

No one should ever come close to Baekhyun, or as he likes to call himself; Fantastic Byun.

[ronearoundblindly]

Autumn and steve at some point tried cockwarming at night and hold eachother felt good after a hard day

Get. Out. Of my brain.

(Seriously, it's very dangerous in there; I get hurt all the time.)

No, but truly, I've been thinking about Bucky having a whole trial/interview, etc. with the U.S. (or more) government(s) in order to legally process all the shit that he did and that happened to him, so Autumn would have the same, right? And that's got to be a pretty traumatizing experience because the proceedings would (attempt) to not be biased or outright favoring you, yeah?

So--shit, I have written every single Cap and Autumn thing from Steve's POV, um, I may bounce around by accident--so imagine that you've been grilled by these stuffy government types for hours before being escorted 'home' to the compound...

It's all true, what you told them. You didn't do anything wrong. You didn't choose any of it anyway. You were honest.

Brutally honest.

Sickeningly honest.

And your hands are still shaking.

No team members were allowed. They weren't welcome during your closed-door testimony, so you're driven back in a black SUV, with five men in black suits with black sunglasses. No one says a word to you for another hour-and-ten-minute ride home.

You stare out the window and see, really see, exactly nothing until the car pulls around the front entrance, and a lovely, light blue sweater greets you.

Steve.

Steve also wears a sad smile, one he is so desperately trying to make genuine but can't quite get his sky-blue eyes to participate in.

The shaking of your hands is in your legs now, too, and after a couple seconds of holding your hand and waiting for you to step down, Steve simply takes over, reaching in and scooping you into his arms like a kid wiped out from a sugar crash.

You don't care. You rest your head on his shoulder and close your eyes.

"Ok, sweetheart. I got ya."

You wait patiently, counting his long strides through the main hall, the dings of the elevator, the turns down the residents' corridor.

"Palm, please," he whispers, and you sweep your hand out blindly behind you to the biometric scanner.

Ever a gentleman, Steve asks you what you need, what you want.

Food? Water? A drink? A bath? Company? Space?

Truth is that you don't know.

Every horrible memory you have was just wrung out of you and then magnified into--what does Peter call it?--4K detail, and your hands now have a distinct tremor even when holding Steve's shoulders.

You tug at his neck.

"Don't leave me."

"I would never," he snaps breathlessly before your lips cover his.

It's an excruciatingly soft kiss. A brush. A graze. A whisper of touch. Nothing more.

Your legs tighten around his waist, pelvis rocking against his crotch deliberate and slow.

Steve grunts into your mouth, quickly capturing your lips in a real kiss, but he stops just as fast.

"Rosie, you--"

"Bed," you say back, firm and unwavering, gazing into his sunset eyes that glow with layers of indecision. "Please, take me to the bed."

The sadness alights to concern on his features, but Steve got an answer. He doesn't ask if you're sure. He's respectful enough to listen and trust that it's the truth.

You slide out of his arms onto the mattress, knowing he won't try to leave. He said he wouldn't, and Steve Rogers is a man of his word, even when he's nervous, even if he thinks it'd be best for you.

You sit up and grab the button of his jeans.

His hand automatically wraps your wrist, and you freeze but don't pull away. He doesn't push either. Steve just closes his eyes for a moment, sighs, and lets go.

"Lay with me," you plead. "Just...be comfy."

To show him what you mean, you take off the stupid pant-suit layers Hill dressed you in that morning, a blazer and trousers you'd like to burn in your firepit tonight if possible, but you won't waste the garments. They just can't be on you anymore. The bad day can't touch you if it's not around you.

So you shed.

You shed the clothes. You shed the memories. You shed the guilt.

And what's left is...emptiness.

Steve takes off his shoes and socks, jeans and sweater, all casually at the foot of the bed, and crawls beside you, finding you lost in a staring contest with the wall.

He doesn't have to ask how bad it was. The answer is "it was worse."

Just when the shimmering tears crest the corners of your eyes, he pulls you against his bare chest, lacing his fingers through your hair, cradling your whole body.

"Hey, Rosie," he tries, "my Rosie. Come back to me, sweetheart."

The words are distant pinpricks of light offering navigation away from an endless black world. Black books. Blacklists. Black robes. Black cars. Black suits. Black. Black. Lack. Lacking feeling. Lacking context. Lacking hope.

You are so empty and Steve so warm.

His warmth and his light and his touch are right there but not close enough. It's not enough, and even his kiss isn't enough. You want more. You want connection. You want an undeniable, tangible anchor to a world you have been told you belong in, but the day has done nothing but set you apart.

Steve knows. He knows you. He knows you--even if he doesn't know everything you said today--and he's still here. He still wants you. He belongs here. If you could just...

While your tongue traces the roof of his mouth, your hand works him, pushing away his boxer briefs and earning you soft, fleeting grunts of protest. When you take one of his callused hands and guide it to remove your own underwear, you drag a finger through your building slick and smear it against him, showing how willing you are.

The air hitting the wet streak on his hardening cock makes Steve moan.

He pulls away from your kiss and starts to roll on his back, but you follow, straddling him with both legs and arms.

"I know," you mutter, pressing the source to him, waiting until he meets your eyes, "I know."

I know what I want. I know what I'm doing. I know I'm lost. I know you'll bring me back.

You're leaning over him, hovering, and Steve reaches up to cup your face. He tenderly meets your lips once, then kisses your cheek, then your eyelid, then your forehead, and back down the other side. Your hips rock to his motions, soaking him between your folds until he takes your lips in earnest and you take him into you. The heat and fervor of your kiss juxtapose the languid slide till he's buried to the hilt, but you plant your knees, bent at his waist, and stop.

Steve lifts his own hips once in suggestion.

No.

No, this is all you want: to feel open and stretched and full, to feel connected to the point that you are the same and unending, to feel safe and owned and unafraid of those two things existing simultaneously.

So he doesn't argue. Steve draws patterns on your bare skin--arms and legs, your back, your shoulders. He even runs his fingers tantalizingly across your ass, up between your cheeks, feeling where you're connected. His warm breaths wash over you steadily, rhythmically, stuttering when he fights not to move the rest of his body though he remains throbbing inside you.

When he hits a sensitive spot with his roaming fingers, you tense, body constricting tighter against his, and he swallows what noises he can.

The hazy distraction of pure comfort lulls you both. After a while, your head rests in the crook of Steve's neck, his arms encircle your back, and you rise and fall by his broad chest.

Fullness.

You have your world--your love--behind you, beneath you, inside you, surrounded and all around. It's bliss. It's replacing all emptiness you let go of today. You drove away from it and came home instead.

"I love you." His voice is barely a whisper.

You've grown so relaxed and heavy that it takes effort to draw yourself up to look at Steve and say back, "forever."

Um, so I may write a part two where the *rest* happens, but I'm in a super sappy mood. Currently only seem to write shit that comforts me, myself, and I, but--BUT--I really hope you enjoyed this, nonnie!

[Autumn Is Healing Masterlist]

[busterpoint]

Sequel to the previous post for all the fellas who enjoyed the previous one! Still takes place just after the events of painful, debatably just after the start of jpyful too now?

The reading is again, below the cut.

---

So a crow and a cat walked into a bar. Nah he's kidding. The crow cackled, cleansing his hands clean at the nearby water pump. The heavy scent of diesel hung in the now still air. Only the sounds of his laugh echoing in the distance.

He was certain his new friend would be chilled to hear him. The cat was still plenty weary of him, as one should be. The crow was always worried he would lose control at a moments notice. He couldn’t blame him. Not to mention a whole army wiped out in a matter of minutes. Must've been traumatizing. This world is an abuser for decent folk. Turning the most clueless into cannibals and the kindest into beef stew. Niceties had no place. No how are yous. No more, my day was good thanks.

Actually, he didn't feel so bad. Those memories were fuzzy and distant. No more than a previous life's intuition still echoing in an amnesiac's mind. The flash takes all, doesn't it? Not just women, but memories. God, the crow couldn't remember anything about who he was. Should he seek this past out anyways? Was it worth it? Or was the monster truly him, before he became what others would call as such?

There he goes, holding on too much. Getting lost in thoughts like this gets you killed, Sergei. The task at hand was more important. To seek out a ration for Clint and maybe something to tend to his wounds. A lighter would suffice if he had any holes to be closed. The crow's array of sewing supplies had medical uses too, uses he's thanked many times.

The dead driftwood-esque walls made him claustrophobic. He supposes it was to shift with the times. Eyeless creeps enjoyed these closed halls. They stank, stank of sweat and men. The smell of sleep left in the linen on the grounds. The stench of death rotting away. Antiseptic lingering faintly. A hospital of sorts. A dark, dank one. Straight out of a horror film or a voice that told him it felt like silent hill. Whatever hill this was, which it wasn't, was far too nasty.

The pros of being here, however, was the likelihood for supplies. As long as the dead didn't feel like rising. Bones, maggots, fungi, and whatever else shouldn't bother him. He rumaged through creaky cabinets. Nothing nothing nothing. Ah. Bandage roll. Free of moths, looks clean enough. He slipped it into his secret pocket of the poncho.

Having only one arm had its benefits. Like having a secret pocket to pretend he still had another limb. But that's where it ended. The poor stub left over was worth looking a little more normal. Better than dragging around heavy, dead, cancerous looking weight. Pain hadn't felt the same since he'd changed. That wasn't important now though.

The crow sighed, rumaging around further. Still nothing of use. Would the cat eat raw meat? No, he couldn't force him to do that. As monstrous as he felt, he wasn't that horrible. The cat didn't deserve going through what he had too. Ah, horse jerky. That'll do.

Returning to him, the crow knelt down beside him. "Can you stand?" The cat shook his head. "I'm... Not sure... Everything hurts..." The cat made a move, but the crow stopped him. "Clint. Don't hurt yourself further. I fetched some supplies to help tend to you, I just wanted to see if we could get out of this literal blood bath so I can look at you better."

He patted the cat's head, careful of the spike, before getting closer. "I'm not strong enough to carry you, but if you want to try to get up now... I'll help, Clint." He flinched away, uncertain. The crow understood, but knew if he wanted to be patched up he'd have to put some trust in this stranger. "Clint, please."

The way his name rolled off the tongue felt strange, but the crow felt as if a name held weight against someone. Not in a bad way necessarily, but to keep them focused. Repeating his name multiple times was key to gaining his trust, to show he cared. In which, some would say he's heartless since the crow debated on leaving him in the first place. This cat could be a nice ally though, he lived. That's what mattered to him.

"Sergei... Just... Give me space. I can get up myself." Bold, the crow thought, backing off of the cat. Using his name no less. Second in command, right? He must've been jealous of Rando, no? The crow hadn't known much about the army, but who hasn't heard of Rando? Maybe, he was overanalyzing things.

The cat got up to one knee, before shakily standing again. The crow reached to help, but a swat of a hand told him otherwise. "Alright. Where to, Sergei?" That voice never faltered, hm? Consise, clear, unwavering, and loud, but not yelling. Even in this state, the cat's voice held strong. Impressive.

"There's a cave just down the path, if I'm not mistaken. We can camp in there and I can take a look at you." The crow started moving along, passing by the cat. He stared for a few moments before getting the message and following. The masked man stopped for a few moments, looking back to make sure he wasn't too far behind.

Thankfully, it was smooth sailing outside of there. Past the carnage was an old building. Inside was a pained monster who lie in defeat. It reminded the cat of Rando. Master Armstrong, or whatever that man had once meant was long gone now.

And there it was, the little gap in some rocks. In the blue of the landscape it was like an abyss. A dark navy spot in a clear and... "Welcoming" ocean. The ocean wasn't very welcoming, actually. Let's not dote on shitty metaphors like that, thought the crow.

It's less dim inside than it looks. An empty little hideaway free of human interference. It wasn't big or anything. Just large enough for maybe cramming 4 people in, it could house 3 people shoulder to shoulder. It was fine for just the two of them. As long as it did the job. The crow sat down, checking his belongings. The car warily sat on the opposite end of the small area.

Caves felt rather relaxing compared to old homes. Just the hum of the wind by the entrance, lacking the dust hanging in the air and yellow-eyed freaks of nature. It was cool inside, the walls are dimly lit by the outside light. Though, it wasn't pitch dark! Just enough to see, that's all it needed to be.

"Clint." The crow pulled the horse jerky from his poncho. He kept his back leaned against the wall due to a lack of an arm. The cat watched, reaching forwards and taking the offering. "Eat something, then I'll look at your wounds. I can stitch up the real bad ones the food won't cover."

Now that he says it, the crow finds it odd how food works now. Never in his fuzzy past could he recall any food that magically patched up gunshot wounds. Of course, food doesn't help when you're decapitated... Not now. This wasn't the time to think about ripping heads off in one fell chomp.

The cat realized what he was given, and started to eat, stopping halfway through. "I don't have any open wounds, just burns." Good. That takes the discomfort of stripping off the list. The cat had started looking a little more lively now too. His motions didn't shake or creak, nor were they slow from pain and uncertainty. Ah the wonders of this new world. Not that he remembers living before it, oh well.

"Need to be patched up or anything?" The crow offered, his hand ghosting over his pocket in preparation. "No Sergei. I'm good now. I just need proper rest." He has his attention, it was strange hearing his voice relax now. "Then rest. I'll stay and watch, sleep is the last of my worries." The crow watched his movements carefully. His gaze said he wanted to say more.

Silence began again. The crow stared at him, waiting for him to speak. The cat laid down, as if he decided against it. Oh well, it wasn't worth looking into, it's not like the crow would ask for a pillow either. They didn't have any. That's what he'd assumed, not wanting to assume anything more. "Sleep well."