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myhauntedsalem · 3 years

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13 True Horror Stories from the Psychiatric Ward that Will Give You the Creeps

Death, illness and tragedy have long been part of the history of insane asylums, and for as long as they have existed, so too have the scary stories associated with them. From haunted hospitals to sadistic doctors and nurses, psychiatric wards have been the inspiration for many of our favorite horror movies and books. Yet, the true stories told by the psych ward workers below far surpass any horrors that we might have seen at the cinema or read in a book.

Without further ado, here are thirteen of some of the creepiest psych ward stories on the internet that have been shared by health care professionals.

1. Holding her own Eyes

My mom told me this story from her time at a neuropsychiatric ward while she was in grad school. She was making her routine room checks and happened upon the most horrific scene I’ve ever heard.

This was during the night shift, and generally, all the patients’ bedroom doors should be closed. So my mom turned a corner and noticed an open door. She saw a staff member’s legs on the floor, halfway out the doorway.

When she looked into the room, she saw the patient, a woman with a severe postpartum psychiatric disorder, who had just gouged both of her own eyes out with her bare hands. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor, holding her eyes in her hands.

The first staff member to witness the scene, who was now lying face down on the floor, had a heart attack when he first witnessed the woman while he was making his rounds.

My mom screamed for help and frantically tried to perform CPR on the staff member. All the while, the woman just sat rather calmly, holding her own eyes.

2. The Saw

I work as a psychotherapist in a hospital system. My definition of creepy is probably quite a bit different from other medical professionals.

The one that got to me the most was a patient who came to us after attempting suicide by sawing both his arms off at the forearm with a table saw. His arms were reattached, fairly successfully too, with only limited impairments in mobility. All I could think was how bad it would have to be to live in his head that sawing his arms off seemed better than that.

He has since completed suicide.

3. Jane?

We had a young lady in our custody with quite a few issues. We’ll call her Jane. Jane’s first night at our facility staff doing a bed check found Jane in a puddle of blood. Turns out Jane had been slicing the skin around her shin with her finger nails and was pulling her skin up her leg, essentially de-gloving her calf.

Jane also had a ritual she performed every night before bed. While in her room she would run between walls in her room touching them in a crucifix pattern. After doing this for a few hours she would sit on her bed and go to sleep. This particular night Jane was frantic in her pace, practically running between walls. Our night staff observed the entire interaction and reported Jane screaming late into the night. When the staff went to check on Jane she reported Jane standing in the doorway smiling. The staff asked what was wrong and Jane replied, “what makes you think you are speaking to Jane?”

4. The Vampire

My mom worked in mental institutions in her younger years (and actually worked at a large, well-known asylum before it was shut down.)

There was one woman there that thought she was a vampire of sorts. She was only allowed out one hour a day, and they had to use safety precautions. She had already attacked and killed at least one hospital worker before these were enacted.

When my Mom asked about her, it was revealed that she had killed at least two of her children, wounded another as well as her husband because she had some sort of physical condition called Porphyria, which apparently made her crave blood.

By the time that they discovered there was something physically wrong with her, she already had lost her mind from guilt and grief.

5. The Spitter

I’m not a psychologist but my friend is. She told me about a patient of hers who was HIV positive and a paranoid schizophrenic. He thought that the nurses who worked at the hospital he was in were trying to kill him, so he would frequently bite his tongue, and spit HIV positive blood into their faces/mouths. When they had to come into contact with him, they were required to wear full masks and gloves.

6. The Only One

I once knew a woman who had spent part of her residency at a psychiatric hospital for people with severe mental conditions. Apparently, the grounds had a lovely, enclosed greenhouse. One day, one of their schizophrenic patients was sitting on a bench, smoking a cigarette, as a heron frantically flew around. It had found its way in and, not being able to escape, it was smashing into the large panes of glass. The man just sat there watching.

Finally, my counselor asked him if the bird was bothering him and he kind of sighed and said, “Thank god, I thought I was the only one seeing that.”

7. Family Photographs

My sister is the director of a psychiatric hospital. There was recently a lady there who would cut her arms, legs and torso open and place photographs of her family under her skin.

8. Under the Bed

Once, a fellow female patient told me she found writings under her bed. They were just old, small wooden bed frames with hard mattresses that would make all kinds of noises when you rolled over, but I still wondered what exactly she was doing lying under her bed to find these writings.

When she first told me, I thought it was a joke. But sure enough, one day during group we managed to sneak away, and she showed me. Indeed, there were stories written under her bed. After that, we had everyone check under their own beds, and there was more writing under every single bed.

They were stories of patients who had stayed here before, or ways they were planning on killing themselves, or who the good and bad nurses were. It creeped me out.

9. Time of Death

Well, my mother was a nurse that specialized in geriatrics, and she worked for several hospice hospitals for many years. She often described situations at her work with several of the patients. She would say that each person tends to have a very similar “checklist” that they follow right before death. This checklist often ended in a very similar way.

They would get caught talking to someone that wasn’t there. When asked who they (otherwise lucid people) were talking to, they would describe an individual who was already dead. When asked what they were talking about, they would say that their relative wanted to know if they were ready to move on. A pretty common response would be, “Yeah, he/she said that she will take me tomorrow at 3:00.” Well, it would often happen that they would die at the exact time their relatives quoted.

10. The Test Subject

I had an hour-long conversion with a delusional guy who was confined to a mental health facility, and who was probably smarter than I am. Lots of these folks believe that somebody – often the CIA – is either beaming thoughts into their heads, or has implanted a microchip in their brains for this purpose. This guy was offering a very thoughtful argument as to why such claims should not be so quickly dismissed.

“It’s precisely because such delusions are so common that mental patients make the best test subjects,” he said. There he was, confined and protected, constantly observed, his health and behavior documented, and there is zero chance that anyone would ever take his concerns seriously. How else would you test and improve such technology? Does the government not have a strong motivation and a plausible ability to create such a device?

“You can see I’m not irrational,” the man said. “I’m just straight-up telling you that they are doing this to me. I know just how unbelievable it sounds, and yet, here I am.”

11. The Boy who Loved Knives

As a tech in psych years ago, there was a 7-year-old kid sent to the floor because the mom didn’t know what to do with him. Sadly, common thing to happen, even if the kids don’t have psych issues. Anyway, the mom was shaking and crying, and they had to take the kid into another room. She was genuinely afraid of her own son. She had suspected something was wrong when she kept finding mutilated animals in the backyard, but never heard or saw coyotes or anything around. The neighbors smaller pets started disappearing. The boy had an obsession with knives, hiding them around the house. Denying anything when the mom confronted him. Then when the two started getting into arguments, he would get really violent and hit her, push her down and kick her, threaten to kill her. On multiple occasions she woke up in the middle of the night with him standing beside her bed, staring her in the face. She put extra locks on her bedroom door to feel safe while she slept. The last straw was when she lifted up his mattress and found 50+ knives of all shapes and sizes under there. So she brought him to us.

I remember talking to him, treating him like he was just any other kid that came through. He seemed remarkably normal, until you spoke directly to him. He had this way of looking right through you, or maybe like he didn’t see you at all while you were speaking.

He would respond like a robot, like he was just saying words because that’s what we wanted to hear. And he would always put on this creepy, dead-looking smile. Like all mouth and no eye involvement in the smile. Especially when he would get away with something, like taking another kid’s markers and they couldn’t figure it out. Still gives me chills laying here thinking about him.

I believe I met a 7-year-old psychopath.

12. The New Mom

I was a pharmacy technician at a hospital with a psych ward for some time. We would have to go around with a cart and dispense the patients’ medications, and being a 5’2″ girl, a security guard or male nurse would accompany me, just as a precaution. I never had any real issues other than the occasional death grip onto my arm or manic outbursts, but there was one boy who was entirely different.

His chart said he was nine and he had pale skin, dark hair, and huge bright, green eyes. He always greeted me in the most polite way, asked how I was doing, and always found something different to compliment me on every time. He was extremely well-spoken and mature for his age, so I began looking forward to seeing him, as normal small talk is definitely cherished in that setting. If he saw me outside of his room in the halls, he made sure to say hello and always called me “Miss Jones” or “ma’am.”

One day, a couple of our female nurses saw me pause to chat with him in the hallway, and waved me over to ask if I was out of my mind. Apparently, when he was in kindergarten, he grew an intense attachment to his young female teacher.

This escalated to the point of him calling her “Mom” and leaving notes for her about how he wished he were her son. He had a normal home-life with both parents, and the teacher tried to explain to him that she couldn’t be his mom because that would hurt his real mother’s feelings, and that she already had that job covered.

So, he went home and, killed his own mother in her sleep by cutting her throat, so his teacher could be his mom. The female staff had a general rule of not interacting with him excessively to prevent any kind of attachment from forming.

13. Bugs

Nothing I can say can possibly describe the year I worked in Psychiatric Intensive Care. Creepy isn’t the thing that comes to mind when I think back on it…more heartbreaking and horrifying. But creepiness was a part of it. Especially evening and night shifts, naturally.

There is always something disturbing about watching someone while they hallucinate. You can tell it is 100% real to them, and something about that makes you believe it, on some level. A lot of stories end with, “and of course, I had to look over my shoulder to make sure”. You see the emotions it brings out.

There was a woman that came in and sat down across the table from me for her admission interview. She had bandages all over her arms and scotch tape over her mouth and ears. She looked very uncomfortable and wouldn’t really sit still. When the nurse would ask her a question, she would peel the corner of the tape back and answer, then stick the tape back on really fast.

We eventually found out that she saw and felt bugs crawling all over her, and they were trying to get inside her body. The tape was to keep the bugs out. The bandages were because some bugs got in and she had to dig them out. She couldn’t sit still because she felt the bugs all over her even while we sat and talked. The worst part was, she had some idea that it was her mind playing tricks on her. Can you imagine going through your life, feeling like someone is continuously dumping buckets of cockroaches on your head, feeling like they’re all over you and getting inside of you to the point that you’re digging chunks out of your flesh in a panic, all while knowing intellectually that none of it is real?

#13 True Horror Stories from the Psychiatric Ward that Will Give You the Creeps #shared stories #paranormal #ghost and spirits #ghost and hauntings #haunted salem #myhauntedsalem

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psychospeak-blog · 4 years

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The thing was, you were used to going to rinks and hockey events with Tyler. You were used to the meeting up with him, to the feeling like you were somehow being signaled out when it was obvious that he knew you or that you were getting special treatment.

You were not used to going to these events as his girlfriend.

You also think you'd only been to Biosteel Camp once before, that week the marking the separation of his life with you and his life in the NHL.

But some things were different now that you had a child with who you wanted to share new experiences. So when Tyler had asked you to come, you'd agreed, realizing that having Bentley come along added a layer of excitement to go to a hockey game, even if it was just a scrimmage. Which is exactly why you had Bentley dressed in Dallas Stars colours, even though Tyler himself wouldn't even be wearing them. You'd decided that you didn't want to drive into the city by yourself, which is why you had Bentley packed up to head in with Tyler for the day, in his jeep which seemed to be your new family vehicle.

"You might want to get into this lane here," Tyler said, leaned forward, and then looking over his shoulder, "But there's a car right behind you so -"

"I have driven before, you know," you laughed, and Tyler sheepishly sat back.

"Sorry, sorry," he said, "I like to be in control, especially when you're driving my car."

"I've driven your car before, too," you said.

"Well, I still like to be in control."

"You're in control of him," you said, nodding towards the backseat, where Bentley was in his car seat.

Tyler turned in his seat, looking at the mirror that reflected Bentley's face back at you. "He's sleeping."

"Tyler," you whined, your whole body moving in a sigh.

"What?" he asked, completely oblivious.

"You never, ever point out that a baby is sleeping when you really don't want them to wake up."

"Is that a thing?"

"Yes, it's a thing."

"Well, I didn't attend the parenting classes, I don't know," he said, "It's not in my book."

"I didn't go to a parenting class," you laughed.

"Yeah, you did," Tyler said, looking at you, and you wracked your brain until you remembered.

"That was a childbirth class. And I went to a baby CPR class," you said, thinking, your eyes glancing towards him, "Would you go to one of those?"

"A baby CPR class?" Tyler asked, and you nodded, "If you want me to?"

"I just think it would be a good idea for us both to know it if we're gonna be living together. Officially," you said, "And he's gonna be starting solids soon so he could choke."

"He could choke?" Tyler asked, in alarm, "I thought babies ate like... mush."

"Well, they do eat soft stuff," you confirm, "but it's a different texture. They have to get used to it."

"I'll go if you’ 'll come with me and take it again?" Tyler asked hopefully.

"Deal," you agreed, "I mean if we can find someone to watch Bentley."

"We can find someone to watch Bentley," Tyler said confidently. "Jamie can do it."

"Jamie?" you repeated.

"Yeah, he's great with kids," Tyler said.

"Yeah, but it's just not about being great with kids, watching a baby isn't the same thing as hanging out with an older kid."

"You let me watch him."

"Yeah, but you're different," you said.

"What? How?"

"You know...." you said, taking your hand off the wheel for a moment and gesturing back and forth between him and Bentley in the backseat to demonstrate that connection and Tyler cleared his throat loudly, and you placed your hand obediently back on the wheel.

"Well, I wouldn't let any of the guys watch him unless I knew they could do it," Tyler said, "He's got a niece, he babysits for other kids on the team."

"Really?" you asked in surprise.

"Yeah, we're more than just hockey players, you know," Tyler said, "we have skills."

"I know, I know, I just -" you laughed because you didn't quite know how to put into words that it felt overwhelming to think about having someone other than family watch your baby, even though you knew it was okay.

It didn't really feel like your home there, yet.

"We just started dating babe, and I know we were fucking for like a year, but that's different."

"Tyler," you said in shock, with the baby in the back seat, so blunt, and you felt his eyes on you.

"Moving in together is a really big deal. When you've been together for years and just ---"

"You think we shouldn't move in together?"

"What? No," Tyler said, "I'm just saying that.... we need to make sure we have time for each other. It's not just us, there's a kid and I just...if we're gonna do this whole parent thing, I think we just need to make sure we work on our relationship too. And I don't mean like pawn the kid off as soon as we get there, obviously, I want to hang out with him. I just mean like...once a month or something."

And now you were imaging the anticipation that you might feel picking out just the right dress for a dinner out that Tyler had promised you after a long road trip, or sneaking moments throughout the day to find someplace fun nearby that Tyler hadn't discovered yet.

"Okay, deal," you said, your wide smile giving away what your feelings about actually getting to date Tyler.

"I know where I'm taking you first," Tyler said, the smile evidence in his voice.

"Where?" you asked by reflex, even though you realized he'd want it to be a surprise.

"To the backyard," Tyler said, laughing even before he got the words out. "Then you won't have to worry about worry about Bentley because we'll be right there."

"Okay, I wasn't that bad," you clarified, "The was the first time that I'd left him with someone who....wasn't involved in making him," you finally decided on, and Tyler burst out laughing.

"It's fine, babe, I get it," Tyler said simply, his voice filled with an understanding that you didn't think you had until you actually had your own child.

"Love you," you said simply, because you couldn't put it into words how much it meant that he never questioned would feelings when it came to Bentley.

"Love you too," he replied, your tender moment being interrupted by Bentley's abrupt cry.

"Oh, what's the matter?" Tyler asked his voice sickly sweet, turning in his seat to see what was going on in the back.

"You're okay," you soothed, "we're just going for a car ride."

"Yeah, you're gonna go watch hockey," Tyler added, to which Bentley let out an even louder cry, "Okay, I guess you don't like hockey."

"He likes hockey," you said.

"How do you know?" Tyler asked.

"Because we used to watch it all the time when he was a newborn."

"Oh, so you who never used to watch hockey suddenly became a huge fan, huh?" he asked, his voice playful.

"Tyler, you literally watched the whole of Grey's Anatomy with me and baked everything I wanted with me even though you hate measuring."

"Well, it's so specific," Tyler said, waving his hand, and you laughed because you could somehow at least always convince him to hang out in the kitchen with you while you whipped up a batch of muffins or cookies.

"But, yeah, Bentley and I watched every game because we missed you."

"Aww," Tyler said, clearly exaggerating how adorable it was, but you could hear the smile in his voice.

"This'll be a test to see if he can handle going to a real game," you said, Bentley still making himself known from the backseat.

"Well, it'll probably be easier to take him to a Stars game," Tyler said, turning and reaching into the backseat, you assumed to see if he could grab Bentley's pacifier with the way he was reaching around.

"Why?" you asked, the simple amount of people seeming overwhelming to you because the person you felt understood Bentley just as well as you did would literally be on the ice.

R 5 4th 344

"Because you can just take him into the family room if you don't want to sit with him in the seats or need somewhere to feed him or change him or whatever."

"What's that?" you asked, Tyler huffing out a laugh, and you were reminded just how foreign this whole world was to you.

"It's a suite where all the girls hang out," Tyler said, "There's a bunch of toys and stuff for the guy's kids. He'll probably be more psyched to hang out there than watch the game."

"Oh," you said quietly, still trying to process this all, and focusing on the fact that he was referring to the players’ kids, and not just family friends.

"When do you think he's gonna be able to walk?" Tyler asked, drawing you out of your thoughts.

"Umm...after he learns to crawl?" you said, Tyler making noise to let you know that was rather obvious.

"I'm just stoked for him to run down the hallway towards me after a game," Tyler said, his arms raised and flailing about, mimicking the determined and yet awkward way that toddlers ran.

"Yeah, that'll be cute," you said, caught in that place where you wanted your baby to stay little forever, but were also looking forward to seeing how his personality would continue to emerge.

"You fed him before we left, right?" Tyler asked, Bentley still making himself known from the backseat, and you nodded your affirmation.

"He's just fussy," you said, recognizing his cry.

"What do I do?" Tyler asked, "Like how did you even do this by yourself?"

You laughed a little under your breath, Tyler turned in his seat, looking at you like you had all the answers. And although you'd driven with him before so many times, it was always him driving, and now he seemed a little out of his comfort zone like he was doing the wrong thing, even though you knew if Tyler had him in the car by himself he'd figure it out.

"Just talk to him," you offered.

"Like about what?"

"Anything," you said. "he just wants to hear your voice. Like when I was taking him to my mom's on Father's day, I told him all about what Father's day was. And why we were getting you a gift, and why you were spending time with your dad.."

"Awe," Tyler said, "Hmm..."

You didn't even realize you laughed until Tyler instructed you not to laugh at him because he was thinking and that he was under pressure now because you'd told Bentley something sweet, so he just couldn't tell any old story.

"Oh, I know," Tyler said, his voice even and thoughtful, "I'll tell you about the first time I realized that your mom was going to be a good mom."

And now you were pretty sure that you were paying even more attention to the timbre of Tyler's voice than Bentley was.

"So one time Grandma Jackie and Papa went to go out, so Uncle Ty-Ty had to babysit your Auntie Candace and Cassidy," Tyler said, "And because Mommy's awesome, she came over to help."

"That's when you knew?" you asked suddenly.

"Shh..."Tyler said, "I'm telling the story to Bentley, not you."

"Oh, sorry."

"Anyways," Tyler continued, pointedly, "Because Mommy was secretly in love with me she gave up her Friday night to come to hang out and help me."

"Don't tell him that," you laughed.

"Oh, right, it was because she was a nerd."

"Tyler," you laughed.

"Anyways, I appreciated it," he said, "So we were just hanging out watching a movie or something after we the girls had gone to bed, and then we heard this big crash from the kitchen."

And now you knew exactly what he was getting at, still feeling like that teenager responsible for someone only a few years younger than you77 even though you now had a child of your own.

"And of course we ran up there, and there was glass all over the place," Tyler said, his voice showing just how shocking it was, "Because Auntie Cass wanted some water and she didn't think she needed to come ask for help because she wanted to do it by herself."

"Which is why you'll be drinking out of a sippy cup until you're 12," you said.

"Yeah," Tyler laughed, "Anyways, so because Uncle Ty-Ty didn't think about what was doing he yelled, and what did Auntie Cass do? She cried. Yeah, even louder than you're crying right now."

"See, Uncle Ty-Ty was just scared that she was going to hurt herself more and he didn't think about how she might feel, but Mommy did," Tyler said, "She was so calm, and she just knew the right thing to say."

As Tyler's voice softened, you could hear the noises coming from Bentley softening, too.

"She knew just how to calm her down," Tyler said, "Because Uncle Ty-Ty didn't even know why she was crying, and if Mommy wasn't there, Auntie Cass probably would have been crying until Grandma got home."

"That's why I knew she was going to be a good Mom," Tyler said, more to you now than Bentley, "Because she cares a lot, but she also thinks about how other people are going to feel. She always knows just what to say to make people feel better. So I was really, really glad she was there."

"Well, I was glad you were there," you said, "I was freaking out."

"You were not," Tyler said, "I was freaking out."

"So was I," you confirmed, "You know how I hate that stuff."

"Well, you couldn't tell," Tyler said.

"Well, you couldn't tell you were freaking out either," you confirmed.

"'Cause you were there," Tyler said, even though it was the same for you, "I don't know why my mom didn't just ask you to babysit."

"Because you had it under control," you insisted, "It was your idea to take them to the corner store and let th6em pick out a chocolate bar to have with our ice cream."

"Yeah, cause they always take my money," Tyler said, a subtle uptick of his lips.

"You can't say no," you laughed, Tyler no longer able to hide his smile. And it was him who suggested Cassidy come sit with you on the couch after you'd cleaned up the glass, Tyler carrying her to bed after she'd fallen asleep during the movie, something which had made him seem so much older than the sixteen years he'd been at the time, Tyler looking over his shoulder now.

"Okay, apparently we were boring before he got here," he said.

"A little bit. I think he liked your story though," you said, "But you gotta stop only telling him good stories about me. We need like a storybook."

"Don't tell me what I can and can't tell him," Tyler said, his voice playful and teasing. "I'll always hype you up, babe. I'm like your hype man."

"Well, listen when you're out there because we're gonna cheer for you," you said.

"I will," Tyler smiled, looking back again. "He's already got the shirt though."

"He's got all the shirts, one for each game of the season, " you said, Tyler laughing.

"Do you think he'll wake up at all?" Tyler asked as you pulled into town, getting closer to that arena you'd spent so much time in as a teenager.

"Oh yeah," you said confidently, as Bentley was getting more and more interesting and aware of the world around him each day. "Where do you want me to drop you off?"

"Just up here," Tyler said, pointing to an open spot, and you noticed the 6other guys arriving after having driven to the rink on their own, whereas you felt like you were drawing attention to yourself with the way you were arriving.

"I feel like I'm your mom dropping you off at practice," you said.

"Nah," Tyler said, leaning across the console towards you, pressing his lips easily to yours before you even had a chance to process what was happening. "I'm not embarrassed to kiss you in front of my friends."

You weren't expecting him to grasp the back of your head though, pulling you to him for a deeper kiss, his hand tangling in your ponytail, and you knew you'd have to fix it, but you didn't care, smiling against his lips.

"You need anything before I go?" he asked.

"No, we're good, we're just gonna go pick up Brooke," you said, Bentley still sleeping, hoping he'd be able to get a bit more of a nap in while you did that, so he'd wake up rested and hopefully on his own. "Dani's gonna meet us here."

"K, well tell Bentley to look out for puck bunnies."

"Tyler!" you scolded, which he scrunched his nose up at, laughing.

"Hey, I said watch out for them, like avoid them, not look for them."

"Mhmm," you said, teasingly.

"I'll see you in a bit," he promised, and you kissed him once more, certain that he was being even more quiet than usual when getting his gear out of the back as if not to wake Bentley, hearing him talking to the other guys although you couldn't hear what they were saying, part of you wondering if he was explaining why he was arriving with such an entourage.

You were, however, thankful that you had brought your somewhat of an entourage with you, setting up a spot in the stands with your diaper bag which you'd tried to pare down as little as possible, Bentley curled up in Brooke's lap, eyes blinking drowsily as he began to realize that he was somewhere new.

"Oh, you made it," you said, when Danielle found you, knowing that she'd have to come by after work, your summer this year so much different than last, when you were still working regular hours.

"Well, yeah, I got to spend as much time as possible with you guys before you leave," she said, leaning down to hug you.

"I know," you said, your voice bittersweet, but as you felt the excitement of the kids around you thinking about getting a chance to see their favorite hockey player in person and your eyes watching Bentley's reaction, you couldn't help but think that this was even better than the love you'd imagined you'd have in your life last year, the experience of getting to see all these things that seemed so ordinary before through Bentley's eyes your new favourite thing.

"You look like you're having an existential crisis," Danielle said, laughing as she sat down next to you.

"It's just...I used to spend so much time here in high school," you said, looking at the rink around you, "just because it was something to do and because we would all go get food afterward. And I never even paid attention to what offsides were and barely noticed when Tyler scored and now I'm like... if you told me I would be sitting here with his baby completely invested, I would have thought you were crazy."

And yet it made you smile, having all this history with him.

"Careful how loud you say that baby part," Danielle said, eyebrows raised, although this was more about the kids getting a chance to see their favourite players in action, not so much the gossip and rumours that swirled online. "We are going out to eat though, right? Because that's the only reason I came."

"Yeah, Tyler said there's a good sushi spot we can check out," you said, which was pretty much all he suggested when you went out to eat, knowing how much you'd missed real sushi while pregnant. "We brought Bentley's stroller in case he naps."

"Tyler's paying, right?" Danielle asked, her voice giving away that she didn't care either way.

"I mean, it was his idea.." you said. And although he teased you relentlessly about whose turn it was to pick up the cheque he pretty much always did. Although he was more appreciative of when you grabbed him eggs at the store before he even noticed he was running low or arrived at his house after work on a warm summer day with a frozen lemonade for you both. "We'll have to wait a bit though, he's doing this video interview piece or something? For a YouTube channel called Spittin Chiclets?"

"That's fine," Danielle said, leaning over towards Bentley, "you want to spend more time with Auntie Danielle, right? Before you have to move because of silly hockey?"

And you tilted your head at her, wanting to just enjoy this time you had left at home with all of your people, not thinking about how you were currently uprooting half your life. It was almost like when you went away to university, leaving your summer essentials at home, except now you were a full-fledged adult and would be in a completely different country, not just an easy drive down the road.

There had to be a handbook for 7y.

"He's doing Spittin' Chiclets?" Brooke asked, and you broke your gaze away from Bentley in his Dallas Stars onesie, so much bigger than the first time he'd spotted the gear, noting the look on her face.

"Yeah, is it...not good?" you asked.

"No, no, I mean it's fine, everything's fine," Brooke said. "They're just gonna definitely ask him if he has a girlfriend."

You still froze, even though he'd kissed you’d in the car, and been the first to be vocal about the fact that he had a girlfriend.

"Do a lot of people watch it?" You asked, hesitantly, wondering if this was going to be where things really started getting serious.

"Kind of?" Brooke said, her tone letting you know that, in fact, a lot of people would be paying attention to Tyler's actions and words, and you wondered if you should have talked about this with him, even though he'd been being followed the whole camp. "I’m sure it will be fine though."

"And it's not like it's live," Danielle added.

"Yeah, it's edited, I'm sure they'll edit it out if he says something dumb," Brooke said, the slight uptick of her lips indicating that Tyler would be the one to not think before he spoke.

But you weren't exactly so sure how they could blur out that tattoo he had of your son's name across his ribs, the date so clearly connected with that game he'd missed in April, especially with Tyler's propensity to take his shirt off well working out.

Or anytime, really, part of you wishing that it was as inconspicuous as that tattoo he got for you.

But Tyler had never really been the one to shy away from sharing things, even if it was the declaration that it was personal.

So, instead, you focused on the fact that this was Bentley's first time in a hockey arena, getting to see Tyler play for the first time in person in the same place you had.

It was a lot easier than you thought, getting lost in the screams of excitement from around you, and you found yourself picking up Bentley, joining the group of kids who were waiting to see the players emerge from the tunnel. And, because you couldn’t resist when you heard the delighted calls trying to gain Tyler's attention, you tried to sneakily ease yourself in on the end, taking Bentley's hand in yours and extending it as if he was waiting for a fist bump too. Tyler might have missed it had it been during the season but he wasn't forced to focus, looking up talking to the kids as he passed by in greeting, his grin growing wider when he saw you, eyebrows raise in acknowledgment that he'd get to you, so you stood up a little more, easing out of the way.

When Tyler got to you though, he didn't reach out his glove towards Bentley's hand like you thought he would, instead of shaking it off and tucking it under his arm, extending his hands out and motioning with his fingers for you to hand the baby over.

"Give him to you?" You asked like you weren't understanding him properly. Tyler didn't answer you but nodded emphatically, so you shifted Bentley, holding on tight to his torso as you held him over the railing, Tyler reaching up to support his weight quickly, and then easily shifting Bentley onto his hip, Bentley's eyes going wide with interest, Tyler's large hand splayed easily across his stomach. You weren’t going to lie and say that you didn’t hold your breath when Tyler stepped onto the ice with your four-month-old, but Tyler was watching him carefully, Bentley's body barely even moving with the movement. Somehow, Tyler managed to turn around without his feet even moving, giving you a view of him watching Bentley's reaction.

And then your brain caught up to where you were, that you couldn't stay stuck in this moment forever, fishing your phone out of your pocket to take a picture. You could see Tyler talking to Bentley but couldn't hear what he was saying, pointing towards you like he thought he could encourage a baby to not only make eye contact but smile for a picture. You thought you'd got a decent one but Tyler frowned though, motioning back a forth between you and then spinning his hand around, gesturing for you to turn around. Cluelessly, you looked behind you, seeing Danielle and Brooke there, realizing that Tyler wanted you to get in the picture too, and you swire you could hear Tyler giggling at you, shooting him a look over your shoulder as you inched up near the glass, hearing Tyler's laugh grow even louder as you shook your head. You focused on smiling for the picture, resisting 6he urge to just watch Tyler and Bentley the whole time, knowing you’d get to enj9tseeing the picture later. When Danielle put her phone down, you walked back over to meet Tyler to get Bentley, leaning your body over, getting closer to him than you'd probably ever been with him in full ge8ar.

"You got him?" Tyler asked, his voice louder than you were expecting.

"Yep," you affirmed, your voice confident and yet Tyler kept his hands his hands around Bentley's waist for a moment too, and then dropped him them suddenly with a gasp like he'd just dropped the baby, your heart skipping a beat even though you knew you had him.

"Tyler," you chided, pulling Bentley into your body but not looking at him quite just yet, giving Tyler a stern look. "Don't do that."

He laughed, his lips turning up in a smirk, and then you could have sworn he puckered them just a bit as though blowing you an apology kiss before sprinting onto the ice in a way that would have had you landing hard on your backside.

You shook your head, addressing Bentley. "Did you go on the ice?" You asked enthusiastically, using your hand to fix his onesie where it was riding. "What did you think? Mommy's not so sure how she feels about it."

"I’m surprised Tyler hasn't bought him skates yet," Danielle said, and you smiled, shifting Bentley onto your hip and then sitting back down.

"I told him there's no point buying him skates until he can walk," you said, holding Bentley in your lap, bending over to get him something to hold out of his diaper bag, not wanting him to get restless too soon. "And then I'll deal with it once Bentley can walk."

"He's totally gonna convince you, you know," Danielle laughed.

"I know," you sighed because Tyler could smile in a way t h at was so damn charming that he was pretty much the only one who could convince you of putting a bra and real clothes back on after you’d gotten home from work to go out for the evening or give up your paid time off to fly down to visit him for only a day or two.

"It goes both ways though," Danielle said, and you smiled at that main example of that that you had sitting in your lap. "He looks at you all googly-eyed all the time, and like finally I don’t have to pretend not to see it like I did all last summer."

"Okay, he was not looking at me like that all last summer," you clarified, because that you would have noticed. And maybe he did look at you a little more often but he was just being ... caring.

"Little bit," Danielle said, and now you smiled a bit, her sitting down next to you, flipping the ears on Bentley's toy. You all jumped though, when there was a large bang on the glass in front of you and you didn't even have to look up to now it was Tyler and that ge was trained on your reaction.

"Why does he always do that?" You said, laughing when you took in Bentley's startled expression.

"Flirting," Danielle said matter-of-factly.

"Well, he can stop," you said, "he already sweet-talked me into moving in with him."

"Well, stop blushing then," Danielle said, and now you felt the heat in your cheeks.

You were so screwed.

"I’m not, it's just a bit warm in here," you tried.

"It's an ice rink," Brooke pointed out, and you bit back a laugh, looking out onto the ice, the reason that you were here.

The baby.

"Do you think he's warm enough?" You asked

You'd actually put pants on him for the first time in months so he was in layers, but you hadn't actually expected him to go out on the ice.

"Tyler?" Brooke asked, and you had to look over at her to know she was joking. "Yeah, pretty sure the stuff they have them wear is pretty warm."

"No, Bentley," you said, "I don't care if Tyler's warm enough. Well, I care, but he can deal with it, he's the one who chose to play this ice sport."

That garnered a laugh from both Brooke and Danielle, Bentley looking around curiously as if he didn't understand what was quite so funny, yet wanted to be in on the joke.

"He doesn't feel cold," Danielle said, taking Bentley's hands in hers, feeling them. You leaned down anyways, pulling his blanket out so you could tuck it around his feet.

"I was gonna put a footsie pajama on him but Tyler said he'd be too warm," You said, "And he's too old to be going out in his jammies now."

Danielle stifled a laugh, which came out as a snort. "Wait, he thinks he's a baby stylist now?"

"He gets disappointed if he comes home from the gym and I already have Bentley dressed, " You said. He was actually good at it, too, picking out coordinated outfits and often pairing them with a hat, which he said was to keep the sun out of Bentley's eyes but you suspected was just for looks. He'd asked you a couple of times for certain things that you didn't have, making you feel confident 5hat Bentley's wardrobe was going to be growing once you moved to your seasonal home.

"Whatcha looking at?" You asked Bentley, his eyes gazing around in front of you, the sound of skates against ice surrounding you, and you spotted Tyler immediately, watching his arou3nd the front of the net. You took his Bentley's hands in yours, clapping them together like he was cheering. "Can you say 'Go Dada'"?

As soon as you heard the word come out of your mouth you tipped your head back, letting out an exasperated sigh.

Sure, it wasn't the first time that you'd done that, but you really, really had to stop doing that.

Especially when there were people around. Yet, you couldn’t really do it in your head either as that just made it more real, the word could slip out that much easier.

"I can't believe that I did that again," you said because Brooke and Danielle were looking at you, like maybe you'd maybe that transition and you'd hadn't told anyone yet.

"..he's still not?" Danielle said, her voice soft and yet you understood her words.

You shrugged and shook your head easily because you’d slipped up a couple times already and he hadn't mentioned it, but he'd referred to himself as Uncle in the car. "It would be so much easier if he just....stopped acting like a dad," you confessed. You laughed because it was so much easier to stick to the uncle’s word when Tyler was looking to Bentley to play with and was ready to look to you the second he started fussing.

"You know he's committed though, right?" Danielle asked, turning to you.

"Yeah, I know," you said because that was one thing you'd never doubted.

"As he asked you to move in with him," she continued. "That's a huge deal. Especially for Tyler."

"What is that supposed to mean?" You laughed.

"You know how he always talks about girls being 'clingy' if they spend the night," she said, "and then you spent practically every night at his house last summer."

"I did not spend every night at his house," you protested, and Danielle gave you a pointed look. "Okay, but it wasn't like a thing."

"Yeah, exactly," she said, with satisfaction, as if you just proved her point. "He, like, wanted you as his "friend" there. Now imagine living together on purpose."

"Yeah," you said dreamily because that was what you were really looking forward to, not the casual keeping things at each other's place that could easily be packed up, but having your lives so intertwined that you no longer knew which things were whose.

"Okay, let's just...stop talking about the move," you said because you'd been so focused on packing and planning that you just wanted to escape for an afternoon. "We're supposed to be here to watch the game, and we have no idea what's going on.."

"Yeah, you're so into him," Danielle teased, her smile matching yours. "Never have you been so interested in hockey."

"Well, I got to teach Bentley what's going on," Tyler's not gonna help me explain when he's out there."

You were glad, though, that you were able to catch bits and pieces of the game between your chatting and keeping Bentley entertained because you caught Tyler's goal, standing Bentley up on your lap. "Go "Yay!", you said, dancing him around on your lap until he let out a happy giggle, just catching Tyler's glance towards where you were seated.

"The only one you're gonna have to compete with for Tyler's attention is this guy," Danielle said, her fingers tickling Bentley's belly, causing a delighted squeal.

"And the dogs," you said, "but I am totally okay with that, that’s exactly what I signed up for."

You were also glad that Bentley was handling the big outing like a champ, especially with him being awake for longer periods during the day now. But you were definitely grateful for the extra hands, Danielle soaking up as much time with Bentley as she could.

"Wow, so this is what being a WAG is like," Brooke said after you’d given your name so you could go and meet Tyler after.

"Okay, this is no different than before," you said, leading the way through the hallways that were so familiar to you, finding Tyler leaning against the wall, his damp hair curling around his face.

"Hey," he said, pushing himself off the wall when he saw you, hand curving around your waist as he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

"But that's different," Danielle said, and you laughed under your breath. Tyler raised his eyebrows a bit but didn't ask about it.

"Hey, guys," he said instead, reaching out to brush his finger against Bentley's hand. "Was he okay ?"

"Yeah, he stayed awake the whole time, he was watching," you said, meaning that he was looking at everything going on around him, not at just what was happening on the ice. But Tyler didn't need to know that.

"Yeah, I saw you cheering, " Tyler said in his baby voice, "while mommy was sleeping."

"It was the one time," you defended, which made Tyler laugh, your smile betraying your false annoyance. "Are you ever gonna let me forget it?"

Tyler shook his head, a smirk played on his face. "Don't even with the pregnancy thing, I know you can stay awake when you really want to."

"You fall asleep too," you insisted.

"No, I don't," he scoffed, and you nodded. "When?"

"You slept his whole first night on the hospital," you said, nodding towards Bentley.

Which was a bit much, because it wasn't like it was his responsibility to wake up to check on the baby, but Tyler just tilted his head, a smile spreading across his face.

"Okay, you're right," he admitted, looking through the doorway to the gym where there was a small crew setting up for the shoot. "I'll probably be like 20 minutes or something if you guys want to go ahead, I can meet you there."

"We can wait," Danielle answered for you, bouncing Bentley, and you nodded your agreement.

"K, we're ready for you, Segs," a voice said and you followed the voice to see a tall man, just a little surprised that Tyler was talking to a group of people, yet he seemed to recover quickly.

"This is Biz," Tyler introduced, at the same time as he introduced himself as Paul and you looked at Tyler in confusion, even as you introduced yourself. "Hockey thing," Tyler clarified.

"Oh," you said, redirecting yourself to the handshake and repeating your name once more, which you were certain you heard Tyler snicker about. You enjoyed watching Tyler more than you thought you would actually, listening to him talk about his training routine and summer schedule while Danielle walked down the hall with Bentley, a quick glance making you think she searching for your grad class photos to point out to Bentley, even though so many more photos of Tyler alone or with his hockey team existed amongst those walls.

"So, usually come out here early and train and then get on the ice for a bit, then I drive back to the lake, unwind, do stuff around the house, cook dinner.."

"By yourself?" Paul/Biz asked now, and Tyler's lips ticked up into a mischievous smirk.

"Maybe."

"So are you extending the invite then?"

"I mean, just with the guys I train with," Tyler said, Biz's eyebrows raising.

"Well, I don't think I got the invite."

"Currently still train with," Tyler clarified.

"Hey, I think I could still jump in here."

Tyler's eyes trained up and down his body as if in evaluation. "Yeah, you look pretty ripped."

"Oh, not like you," Biz scoffed, gesturing towards Tyler, wheels seeming to turn in his head. "Any girlfriend?"

You watched Tyler's eyes dart towards your direction and then bounce back as they'd never been there, his lips turning up in a boyish grin, arms crossing over his chest. "Yeah."

You watched as Biz's eyes bulged out of his head in shock, examining Tyler like he wasn't sure if he was telling the truth.

"No shit," he said, pushing Tyler in the arm, and then somewhat glancing where you were standing with Brooke. "Is she here?"

Tyler shook his head, running his hand over his chin. "No," he said, settling his hand on his jaw before he smiled mischievously. "Is that all about her then, like..?"

"I mean, unless you have something else to say about her then," Biz said, speaking with his hands.

"I mean, she's awesome," Tyler said, "I like her."

And you brushed the confusion of that you felt off until Tyler siled back up next to you, afterward, his voice low like it was just meant for you. "Hey, I just said you weren't here cause," he nodded towards Bentley, "I just don't want anything to slip by accident."

"Okay," you said easily, thankful your mind didn't go there, but equally appreciative that he'd thought to explain it to you, your eye wandering over the walls behind him. "It’s weird being back here, eh?"

"Eh?" Tyler teased, "I mean, I've been here pretty much every day this summer but.."

"You know what I mean," you clarified.

Tyler ran his hand over his chin, taking his time in response. "I don't know, I kind of like where I am now."

You raised your eyebrows, giving him a look to show he was right, and he returned your gaze, looking briefly over his shoulder, and you got the impression he was ready to leave.

"We're good," Biz said, making his way back over, your head turning as you thought you heard Bentley starting to make fussing noises. "So this the girl then?" He asked, nodding towards you, and you shot Tyler a look as Biz waited for his response, because Tyler really wasn't as subtle as he thought he was.

"Well.. yeah," he admitted, letting out a breath of laughter like he’d been caught with a secret he'd just been waiting to reveal.

And now Biz was reintroducing himself to you again, and you had a brief glimpse into what it felt like to be Tyler Seguin's girlfriend rather than just you.

"How'd you guys meet?" He asked, and you found yourself deferring to Tyler, like you weren't sure how much he wanted to share.

"We went to school together actually," Tyler said, "high school. She was smart enough to go to University."

"Really?" Biz asked like he'd expected Tyler to say you met at a party or through Instagram, not that you'd met when Facebook was just becoming a thing.

"Yeah, her picture's up around here somewhere."

"You got any good stories?" Biz asked, turning his attention back to you.

"No, she does not," Tyler answered for you, his arm coming around you, pressing a kiss to your temple, and you felt yourself relax with his presence. You turned only when you heard Bentley cry, Tyler allowing you to pull away. You instinctively reached out to take Bentley from Danielle, bouncing him as you turned back, trying to settle Bentley's head against your chest, knowing that he must be getting tired.

"Kid too?" Biz asked, and you failed to notice it was a joke, freezing when you realized that Tyler's hand was settled on your waist, both of you leaning in towards the baby like attentive parents.

Tyler's hand shifted on you as he turned, his hand moving across his face as he spoke. "It's...kind of a long story.," he said, and Biz looked at you both apologetically, realizing he hadn’t thought through his words before he spoke. But it was okay. "I'll have to tell you about it sometime."

You were glad that that quelled everything, half-listening to the small talk about the start of the season, putting Bentley into his carrier, not wanting to miss the window for getting him to sleep. Brooke and Danielle went ahead to get you a table at the restaurant while you and Tyler took your time saying goodbye a little more slowly, moving your body to soothe Bentley, and getting a few comments about how cute he was.

"You okay with him?" Tyler asked once you were making your way out of the arena like he hadn't just been playing hockey.

"Yeah, I don't want to move him and wake him up," you said, keeping on hand on Bentley's back, but using the other to reach for Tyler's hand, Tyler's lips turning up into a soft smile as he intertwined his fingers with yours.

"No, we don't want that," Tyler agreed.

"I barely even held him in there, either," you said with a smile, loving that everybody loved him as much as you did.

"Oh, look whose Mr. Popular," Tyler teased.

You heard the excited little gasps which meant you turned to see a group of kid's yelling "Tyler Seguin!" like Tyler needed to hear his full name in either to respond.

"Looks like you're Mr. Popular," you said with a smile, and Tyler gave you a slightly sheepish look, you letting him slide away, and he instantly turned his attention to the kids, just as excited to see them as they were to see him.

You leaned down, pressing your lips to Bentley's head, your hand rubbing up and down his back as you listened to Tyler talk excitedly with the kids about what position they played, and what made them love hockey in between pictures and autographs.

"Sorry'" Tyler said when he appeared back at your side, easing into you like he had something to apologize for, and you weren't just spending the entire time loving him. And you shook your head, smiling, and leaning in to kiss him, Bentley nestled between you.

Because him you’d wait forever for.

#wont go slowly #tyler seguin #tyler seguin imagine #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #nhl imagines #nhl imagine

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afoldintime · 3 years

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9-1-1 Ep. 1x03 “Next of Kin” live reaction

a bouncy house flying away? great, another new fear I didn't know I needed

the extras' acting is... not great

yeah, chim's got a point, why doesn't he get to do the fun stuff?

real talk, buck's "just stay calm" is not very calm-inducing

okay why was there an emphasis on the winch in the shots? I thought something was going to go wrong

nothing like an emergency to get mom and dad to stop fighting

Michael brought his date to the hospital in the middle of everything? yikes

me too Chim, I am also a fake adult who cooks by using her microwave

woah Chim is proposing????? I did NOT get the impression they were that serious at all

also Tatiana seems very disinterested in him

I mean, she's got a point, I feel like you should discuss the idea of marriage before proposing

I love that Hen and Buck are there for Chim to talk to

Chim's right, Bobby's smirk is a little off-putting

Hen and Buck's synchronized looking away to appear they're not eavesdropping hahaha

Chim just walks off his shift? or is there a time skip and he's driving home afterwards now? unclear

okay wow this metal rod... normally I'd call BS on this but I learned about Phineas Gage far too many times in undergrad to say this is impossible

if you don't know who Phineas Gage is, he had a metal rod go through skull and survived but after the incident he had a completely different personality

basically Chim surviving this... I'll allow it

Bobby showing Chim a video of his situation cannot be protocol... it's just making him more anxious this is why you don't do it

brain surgery is absolutely wild... did y'all know that most of the time it's a lot less precise than you'd expect it to be?

oh wow, I was not expecting this show to touch topics like illegal immigration

im starting a petition to not let Buck do any more CPR on this show until he learns how to do it properly

are you expecting me to believe the CPR worked?????? unrealistic. blocked.

these green/yellow/red triage blankets...is this really how it's done? like i'm sure first responders have a triage system but I feel like it's too obvious and civilians are going to pick up on it which might not be a good thing

Buck, why are you answering your phone in the middle of an urgent call!!!!!!

Abby do not make major life decisions based on the general platitudes of someone who is basically a stranger and doesn't know anything about your situation

Tatiana really is in a sticky situation, since they were essentially going to break up before the accident anyways

earnest Buck trying to motivate Chim to get better by telling him he can do the Maneuver is so precious

"it's alright, his family's right here"

FOUND FAMILY MY BELOVED

Found family is the all time best trope, no one can fight me on this

This is exactly what I’m here for, the found family of it all. On one hand, I will not complain if we get found family all the time, but on the other hand I feel like the easiest way to make found family happen is to whump at least one character, so... who am I kidding let’s whump them and get the emotional catharsis afterwards. No workplace infractions in this one (unless Chim walked out of his shift early, but that wasn’t definitive enough for me), so workplace infraction counter is still at 5.

#911 live reaction #911 fox #911 1x03 #next of kin #tram rambles

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iwriteforthetincanman · 4 years

Text

Mandoctober Day 9: Darksaber

A/N: OVER 3K BABY!!! This is the longest thing I have written in a hot minute so please give it a read. Thank you @dindjarindiaries for motivating me today with ALL of your content. If any of you are lost towards the start of this that’s because Day 8 is part 1! If you have trouble looking for it just use the iwriteforthetincanman writes hashtag on my blog! THANK YOU!!

This is for @leo-moon ‘s Mandoctober!

Something was wrong. That was a fact you clung to as you roused from slumber, a headache brewing behind your eyelids. It was like real life had become the dream and sleep, a reality that had slipped away. An echo ghosted through your mind, a feeling that you knew who it was came and went...it sounded so familiar?

It was highly unusual to wake up in pain, unless that's what woke you in the first place. Although you had a sneaking suspicion that you had been in pain since you had passed out too. Then there was the cold...everything else was warm but you could feel the cold on your cheek.

Beskar.

Din.

“D-Din?” A wheeze left your lips as you reached out to your Riduur. It was like he was asleep himself the way he sat, still as a statue. As soon as he heard your voice, he startled awake, his hands carving through your hair.

“Cyare...you scared the life out of me, I thought-I thought you were dying.” Realising he was no longer wearing his helmet gave you a weird helmet. It was a rare sight to see the rest of his armor on his person whilst missing the helmet. The only reason he would’ve done that is if he was giving you CPR.

“I’m okay...I think.” Brows furrowing in frustration, a hint of a thought wove its way through your brain. “I...I think I know why this is happening…” Trailing off, you saw the panicked look in Din’s eyes grow into an inexplicable fear. Were you dying? The thought shocked you into damage control.

“I’m not dying but...I think someone is trying to kill me.” The accusation itself confused you, but then again you had no idea how right you were. Din’s expressions morphed into so many different emotions, it was difficult to keep track. Without the helmet, he was just a man...to you at least. That didn’t make him any less dangerous.

“Are-are you sure? It was like you were having an extreme panic attack, or someone was…” Realisation dawned on your lover’s face, all other emotions falling away. It scared you how still he was, fingers no longer stroking your hair. Faintly, you could hear his heartbeat under his armor, otherwise you wouldn’t know what to think.

“It was like someone was strangling you.” His voice was much deeper now, sinister in a sense. Not to you, you knew he was angry but he was angry with the force that was trying to kill you.

...The Force.

Someone was trying to kill you through the use of the force!

That’s when it hit you.

“...Moff Gideon.” Your face matched your lover’s. You were afraid, apprehensive and yet angry with the events that were occurring around you, to you.

“Moff Gideon is trying to kill you, without being anywhere near you, using the force. It’s the one thing we can’t fight against.” Din’s grip grew tight around your body, as if he were protecting you just by willing it to happen. Part of the force worked like that, you knew that much about it.

Right now...you were powerless to stop it. The child could only do so much, but reaching through space? To another person? It was next to the impossible.

“Din...right now. All I need is you by my side.” Trying your best not to cry again. You knew the inevitable was approaching. All you wanted was for him to be near you, even if it was coming to an end.

Silently, you watched as Din’s anger broke, revealing how torn up he really was. Tears flooding into those sweetly intense eyes, he refused to let them fall. Scooping you up in his arms, he carried you to your bed.

---

Sleep was also inevitable. Which is why you weren’t surprised to find him there, waiting for you. Like he had never even left.

“Y/N Y/L/N? Isn’t it?” He smirked to himself, he sat in some sort of throne, legs crossed. He was comfortable. What got on your nerves was how smug he was about it. Glaring into his soul, you restrained yourself. You were in your mind and the force was on his side. If anything, he could easily do more harm to you than you could to him. The whole situation was insanely unfair.

“Is it even worth answering? You’re in my mind. You could learn anything you wanted about me!” Shouting across the void, angry reverberated back at you. It was like anything you did, reflected on the storm clouds brewing above. Anything Moff Gideon did, had no such effect.

Glancing around, all you could see was the emptiness. It was like you had stepped into a room with no limits. All you could see was him and that dumb throne, like he had taken control away from you.

“Looks like I have all the control when it comes to your mind Y/N.” He continued to smile down at you before standing, stepping down from his throne to walk across the void, towards you. Although he was walking at a leisurely pace, the cape that swished behind him highlighted how menacing he truly is.

“But I’m not here to hurt you. Not this time anyway…” At this, you growled. Confirming everything you and Din had suspected. Chuckling to himself, he continued “I’m here to make a deal with you.” Immediately your anger vanished at this, concern overtaking your whole body as you tensed. There’s only one thing he could possibly want from you…

The baby.

“I will never let you have him.” You were determined to stay strong, but the whimper you let out was pitiful.

“No? Not even if I turned my control over to your husband? Made him suffer the way you did? Perhaps even kill him? And leave you all alone with the child instead?” Gasping, the clouds above reflected a blue hue. Your true emotions were on full display to the enemy. You were backed into a corner. Either he could kill you and expect Din to break, give him the baby or you could listen to what he has to say and let them both live.

“...Fine. Please, leave the Mandalorian out of this.” It felt like you were begging, but in reality you knew you would do anything for Din. Even if it meant fighting for a warrior’s death.

“Very well. Next time you land, I will send a ship for you. You will find a way of escaping the Mandalorian...and bring yourself to me.” This proposition surprised you...he didn’t want you to bring the kid?

“Do this...and I will leave your husband and child alone...forever.”

Now why did he have to go and make it an offer you can’t refuse?

---

The unforgiving metal you were resting against made you want to cry. It was nothing like the beskar you were used to. Your body kept reminding you of all the differences between now and then. It was like a backwards game of spot the difference. Except this was much more dangerous.

Moff Gideon no longer had a grip on your mind. That was only because he was standing in front of you...in person.

Earlier you had woken to find Din happy that you were still alive. He was apprehensive yet grateful for the next day of life the Maker had gifted to you. You had managed to lie, telling him you felt so much better, before somehow convincing him to land the Razor Crest on a peaceful planet. One where you could get as much sunlight and fresh air as you wanted.

It was all just a farce. An act.

It hurt you so much to lie and betray your Riduur. It felt like you were going back on your vows. Throughout it all you reminded yourself, you were doing this for him and the child, to keep them safe for the rest of their lives.

That all came crashing down when the ship collected you in the middle of that flower field. It stood out violently and you were certain Din had seen it as it came into land.

This theory confirmed itself as you stepped aboard, turning back to spot your Riduur, the child in his arms as they both just stood there and watched. You could sense the horror behind their eyes as tears fell from yours. Mouthing the words that you were sorry, the doors shut and you flew away.

It took all the strength you had not to fall onto your knees when you arrived, not in front of that much evil. He had already gotten what he wanted, you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry as well.

Now, he had you in this complicated contraption that was somehow a mix between a chair and a gurney. The metal, a bitter reminder of what you had given up and in exchange what you had received.

It had only been a couple of hours, but the torture was relentless. Moff Gideon had put your mind through hell to see how far you could go before you snapped. He had the force, you knew that beforehand, yet you underestimated just how powerful he was. He didn’t want any information, he just wanted you to suffer.

No physical harm had come to you, but it felt like you were close to death. You were so tired and a myriad of dots danced before your eyes as you glanced around the room. It was a cell despite how many buttons and controls were placed on the walls. If Din could see you now you knew he would be horrified, you must’ve looked like a corpse.

You weren’t dead yet. But you knew you were pretty close.

---

The sounds of a distant battle were the next thing that woke you. For a moment you thought you had finally succumbed to the darkness, all the hurt and pain had collapsed on top of you, forcing you to sleep. But a battle could only mean one of two things, either the rebellion was attacking the Imperial ship or…

Din was here.

Just the thought of your husband made you move to get out of the chair, pain screamed back at you in retaliation. It gave you a clear message, you weren’t going anywhere.

But if Din was here, here for you and he might die trying to get to you. You sure as hell were going to fight for him. Even if it meant you were only going to see him one last time.

Imperial soldiers were many things: treacherous, hypocrites and sometimes, if you were lucky, they were very stupid. Which is how you came across your tools stashed in your belt. They weren’t the kind of tools that were visible. No, these were lock picking tools that were hidden on purpose.

It took a couple of minutes, thankfully no one came in to check on you at that time but finally, you were free.

---

No guards were stationed outside your cell, which meant they must have been called away towards the fight. Din had been a part of many battles, but aboard an Imperial ship? You couldn’t begin to imagine how severely outnumbered he was.

Limping down the endless hallways, you followed the sound of the fight. Knowing that at the other end of it was your husband, you only hoped that your limp wouldn’t keep you from a fatal mistake. This whole decision was a mistake, you knew that now.

It was a trap Moff Gideon had set for you and you only.

Din’s grief was just an added bonus.

Finally reaching the room of the fight, you discovered that all the soldiers had already been taken out. The only reason for that must’ve been a weapon of immense size and had enough ammo to take on an army. Well, in this case, it kind of did. The Razor Crest was parked at the other end of the hangar.

All that was left was Moff Gideon and Din Djarin in a vicious fist fight.

...And Din was losing.

You knew that if you didn’t act now, Din was going to get himself killed and all of this would’ve been for nothing. The only thought you had was that if this was going to happen, you wouldn’t want your mistake to take Din away from you in its wake.

Limping into the hangar, Moff Gideon didn’t even notice your entrance as he held out a weapon you didn’t recognise. Not until he activated it at least.

An ominous black blade shot out, made of light and outlined by a white glare. A darksaber.

Only hearing about them in stories from the past, you knew lightsabers were flashy but they were twice as deadly. They could kill you in an instant, cauterising wounds as soon as they were made. Din didn’t stand a chance, even with the beskar. None of his weapons matched the darksaber’s intensity.

Launching forwards, the both of them clashed as Din used some sort of a shield. Part of the ship, you recognised. The sinister sorcerer retaliated, lashing out with the darksaber searing through the shield. By some miracle it held up.

“HOW DARE YOU TAKE HER AWAY FROM ME!” The sound of Din screaming out in pain scared you to the point where you thought he was dying, not you.

“She came of her own free will, Djarin. To protect you!” Sneering down at him, you couldn’t help the strength that returned in the form of pure rage.

“SHE WANTED TO PROTECT THE CHILD! FROM YOU! YOU-MONSTER!” He was so infinitely angry, he was blind to his actions. You were scared for him. Sprinting back towards Gideon, Mando attempted to bring part of the ship down on his head. It was a stupid act, a rare kind of mistake for the Mandalorian to do.

Yet, he prevailed.

In shock, Gideon let go of the saber. With it falling out of his grasp, it clattered to the floor. It was almost like the whole scene was taking place in slow motion before you.

“I loved her...and you killed her. All for a child?” Din’s voice was broken, if all he did was look up right now, he would see that you were still alive. Broken in places, but alive and right in front of him.

“I wasn’t after the child...not this time.” Moff Gideon panted in agony, blood gushing from a gash on his head. You could see that much. But now was your time to act, while his guard was down.

Three things happened in the next moment.

Firstly, whilst they were talking, Moff Gideon’s hand moved towards a blade he had hidden away in his robes, fully intending on driving through the space between the bottom of Din’s helmet and his neck.

Secondly, you felt a deep and complicated feeling overtake you once more, causing you to reach out this time. Not fall to your knees in agony. Now was no longer the time for pain. You were a lion that had been kept in a cage, prodded and poked at. This time you would bare your fangs and lash out at your captors.

Thirdly, as Moff Gideon swiftly got to his feet, running at Din, the Mandalorian stumbled backwards in surprise causing him to trip over debri.

In the moment he fell over, all he could do was watch as you drove the dark saber through Moff Gideon’s chest.

As you retracted the blade, a wet gargle left the man’s throat as he fell sideways. Revealing your worn and beaten from to your Riduur.

Despite everything that had just happened, you were so happy to see him.

Falling to your knees, you collapsed into his chest.

“It’s over, it’s over. We’re finally safe.”

As you sobbed, you finally slipped away, in the arms of the man you loved.

---

Over a week later you awoke.

“Din?” This time your voice croaked from not using it. Not because you had been screaming in your sleep.

“Cyare.” Turning to your side, you observed the scene before you.

You were all in a hut, the sound of children playing outside bringing an unexpected amount of normalcy.

What gave you peace of mind that you were all well and truly safe was the sight right in front of you.

Din was dressed in simple clothes, a tunic and pants, no shoes and no helmet. His hair was freshly washed and had dried in the sun, letting his curls be shown freely to the world. He smiled down at you, immensely grateful you had woken.

As he made his way towards you, you grew aware of the warmth tucked into your side. Looking down you spotted the child curled on top of the blanket and you, fast asleep.

“You’re awake.” He whispered, crouching down at your bedside.

“I thank the Maker that I am. I wouldn't have missed this wonderful sight for the universe.” You joked, combing fingers through his hair. That was when you noticed the countless bandages winding up your arm, no, your arms.

Noticing the light flicker in your eyes, Din explained what had happened.

“You were gravely wounded Cyar'ika. The healers said you were lucky to have pulled through at all.” Moving your hand to his cheek, you looked upon the face of the man you married.

“I’m here now. We’re free. We can...start our lives as a family, together.” Din beamed at this, his pearly teeth on full display as he leant down to kiss you, gingerly at first.

As the kiss deepened, you remembered how long it had really been since the two of you had shared any form of affection. Yet, something else popped up in the back of your mind.

“Din-wait.” Pushing him away, it pained you more than the wounds that littered your body.

“What is it?” Confusion laced his features as his eyes flickered across yours.

“I think...I think I’m like the child. That was how I killed Moff Gideon...I used the force.”

As you spoke these words into the air, it disturbed the peace you two had created in just a few short moments. Din Djarin turned his face, his eyes landing on the object that had been resting on a table for the past week, untouched. Sure, you two were free and about to start a new life all together.

But now was the time you and the child would train.

Two Jedi and a Mandalorian.

It sounded like the start to a bad joke.

#moff gideon #mando #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfic #din djarin x reader fanfic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin #pedro pascal mandalorian #pedro pascal din djarin #the mandalorian fandom #iwriteforthetincanman writes #mandoctober #mando x reader #mando x reader fanfic #mando x reader fanfiction

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calvinistwoman · 4 years

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Doesn't it seem self-contradictory for God to create human beings solely to make them suffer? How can anyone be said to love God if love is an act of the will and humans don't have free will?

Romans 6:15-23 When we talk about things like predestination and equal ultimacy (the idea that God created people for hell) we have to first understand who God is and what is the purpose of mankind. I think most people come to the Bible with the idea that God created people because He basically wanted pets that He could watch and love. We assume that God just wants our happiness above all else, and that it’s His job to take care of us. Likewise, our job is to love our Father and try to live good lives.

And so when a topic like hell comes up, people try to give God “the benefit of the doubt”. God’s loves everyone and doesn’t want anyone to go to hell, right? It’s only for extreme cases. Like murderers and Hitler. But really, God doesn’t want anyone to go there... Maybe He even cries when they do.

But, like I have said on this blog many times, we do not need to rescue God from His sovereignty. We don’t need to make God seem “nice” or “loving” according to human standards. We don’t need to sugar coat Him to make Him seem more desirable.

Romans 9:11-24 for though the twins were not yet born and had not done anything good or bad, so that God’s purpose according to His choice would stand, not because of works but because of Him who calls, it was said to her, “The older will serve the younger.” Just as it is written, “Jacob I loved, but Esau I hated.” What shall we say then? There is no injustice with God, is there? May it never be! For He says to Moses, “I will have mercy on whom I have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I have compassion.” So then it does not depend on the man who wills or the man who runs, but on God who has mercy. For the Scripture says to Pharaoh, “For this very purpose I raised you up, to demonstrate My power in you, and that My name might be proclaimed throughout the whole earth.” So then He has mercy on whom He desires, and He hardens whom He desires. You will say to me then, “Why does He still find fault? For who resists His will?” On the contrary, who are you, O man, who answers back to God? The thing molded will not say to the molder, “Why did you make me like this,” will it? Or does not the potter have a right over the clay, to make from the same lump one vessel for honorable use and another for common use? What if God, although willing to demonstrate His wrath and to make His power known, endured with much patience vessels of wrath prepared for destruction? And He did so to make known the riches of His glory upon vessels of mercy, which He prepared beforehand for glory, even us, whom He also called, not from among Jews only, but also from among Gentiles.

The Bible teaches plainly that God created some people with the sole purpose of putting His wrath on them. He created them knowing He would never save them. But why would He do that? To make the riches of His glory known to those who He redeemed. His purpose for ALL mankind is His own glory. That is the end for which we were created. Some, He chose to bring Him glory by being vessels of mercy, and some vessels of wrath.

And if that sounds harsh, if you think that’s unfair, then I would remind you what it would look like if God were actually fair. If God were to deal with us justly, none would be vessels of mercy. We would all have the wrath of the Almighty coming our way. The fact that any person is saved from that at all is infinitely wondrous. I often hear people complain about how if God were truly loving, He would save everyone, but I never hear people comment on how if God were truly just, we would all be damned.

The very knowledge that we have been singled out and redeemed should be enough to make us fall on our faces and weep. God did not have to save any one of us, yet in His goodness He did. And for those who He didn’t... they aren’t the unlucky contestants of some rigged game show, as people like to say. They are simply getting what we all deserve.

In terms of human will: I do not believe in free will because the Bible simply doesn’t teach it. Yes, people have wills. We make our choices and we hold the responsibility for our actions. But our wills are not free.

The natural man is a slave to sin. (Romans 6:15-23, 1 Corinthians 7:22-23, John 8:34) Whatever he does, even the good things he does, are filthy rags before God. Romans 1 says the natural man hates God.

When we are saved, we are set free from the slavery of sin. We no longer serve it, no longer live in bondage to it. And with our new hearts, we love God. Not because we are robots or something. Let me use an example.

You are dead. Not sick, not comatose. Dead. You’re at the bottom of the ocean. Rotting and unmoving. Dead. Someone jumps in and pulls you up. But you’re not breathing. Your lungs, though they are made to pull in oxygen, don’t. They are unresponsive. So the person does cpr. Suddenly, your heart starts beating and your lungs take a deep breath. Now, did you CHOOSE to breathe? No. You did it because it’s the natural response of your lungs. They do what they were made to do. And when life was breathed into them, they responded the only way they could.

And that’s how it is for us. We are dead in our sins. But when the Spirit breathes new life into us, we respond the only way we can. Our hearts were made to love and worship God, so when we are raised from the dead, it’s what we are naturally compelled to do. It’s not coercion. It’s the most natural response in the world. And it’s not fake love. It’s genuine and real.

hope this helped.

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coolkat122 · 3 years

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The Boy From Before: Merman Zen x Reader Part 2

Fandom: Mystic Messenger

Character: Zen

Setting: AU

Requested?: Well, part 2 kinda was if you want to count people asking for one as a request?

_____

"It's you, you finally returned"~

He said that with a relieved smile and sincere eyes which was creeping me out, why was some random stranger so happy to see me? Why does he act as he knows me?

These were the questions running through my mind and more as I studied the man before me, taking in every detail in hopes that it might help me figure out why he was so happy to see me...and why he was so familiar looking?...

Long silver hair that stopped around his mid-back, crimson red eyes, these were all things that seemed very familiar, I've seen them somewhere before...

Oh my god! How did I not realize it sooner!

Overwhelmed with joy among other emotions upon seeing him again after so long, I jumped him and pulled him into a hug as I cried.

Upon touching him I felt this weird feeling surging through me, I don't quite know how to explain it but things became clear and the pain I've been feeling for so many years just kinda faded away.

It felt nice.

"I'm so happy to see you!" He wrapped his arms around me returning the embrace and for someone that was just in the cold water with me, he was surprisingly warm and.... naked.

Why was he naked? Like I get probably not wearing a shirt cause beach, not many do but he's not wearing ANYTHING! He's stark naked.

And I can um, I can feel his friend touching me.... I pulled out from the embrace and backed away blushing as I tried to ask him why he was... naked.

"Huh?" He looked confused before coming to some kind of realization, "oh, I..it's a long story" he clearly didn't want to talk about it so I dropped it for now (but I'm sure it's something I will be bringing up again sometime in the near future).

"Alright...then answer me this..where have you been all this time?" His face changed, it held guilt and sadness, his eyes shifted away from mine.

"My family moved... it was all so sudden so I didn't get the chance to say anything...I resented that I didn't get to say goodbye to you,but" They moved? Why did his family move so suddenly?

"The first chance I got, I came back here in hopes to find you, I come here every day and night till I could finally see you again" I felt weird hearing that he really returned here just to see me again.

Though it was a good kind of weird, it felt like I mattered to someone like really mattered to them and that feeling was nice if still not a little weird from it being such a long time since I last felt that way.

"I'm happy that I got to see you again..." Shit, I can't remember his name, ugh damn it. I feel like such shit forgetting his name like this.

"It's Zen," Zen said smiling, I mentally repeated it nodding my head before saying mine.

"I know, I never forgot it" His eyes shone brightly, "I never could nor did I ever want to" I must have at some point became easy to drive to tears.

Because hearing that Zen never forgot my name on top of waiting all this time just to see me was getting me all emotional, for so long ever since my Dad got Alzheimer's and I had to stay with my Aunt.

I started feeling like no one cared, my Dad was forgetting me, my Aunt wouldn't let me see him anymore, my last memory of him was when I last saw him at that place.

He looked so lost and scared, that was the first time I've ever seen him scared in my entire life, he was always such a strong man even when he found out he had Alzheimer's, he still kept on the act that he wasn't scared, I remember that it pissed me off that he was doing that because it made me think he wasn't taking it seriously.

It had never occurred to me that he was just trying not to worry us and that it did frighten him more than he was letting one, again I could only think about how I felt and how I thought he should be going about things, I was so selfish, I think I only got worse when my Aunt took me to see my Dad and he didn't even recognize me, his Alzheimer had gotten that bad.

After that day she stopped taking us to see Dad, she saw how badly it affected me that he had gotten to the point of not even remembering us, that she feared it might hurt me even more if we continued.

I'm only now coming to realize all of this or at least considering that maybe I wasn't as alone as I thought I was but why now am I thinking like this?

I don't know why my way of seeing things changed so suddenly but I'm glad it did even though with this nice view comes with a new realization on just how terrible I've been.

This is a much worse feeling, realizing how you've been shutting people who only wanted to help you, out of your life, and blaming them for things that weren't any fault of theirs.

I can't believe I was like that and I can only imagine how my Brothers must have felt, they didn't just lose a dad but their sister as well.

As I thought more and more about how awful I've been, and how I could make it better, I felt Zen's warm hand on mine and felt that weird feeling from before and I started feeling better again, I wanted to feel this way all of the time and never wanted it to go away.

"Are you okay" I nodded my head in response.

"Yeah, I'm fine... I better get back home soon" I can't make things better if I'm here and not there, where they are.

"What! Why?" Zen's eyes became sad and I was hit with another wave of emotions, though this time it wasn't those positive ones but sadness.

"I have to get back to my family, I've got a lot to apologize for...I've been a real B-word to them Zen" That felt like an understatement to me, I was worse than just a B-word, I was practically hell to them.

Making things harder for everyone then they had to be and I wasn't one just to my family but to my poor friend Yoosung who let me live with him and was so kind to me...even when I didn't deserve it.

"Even to Yoosung who has been nothing but a good friend, I don't know why he even let me stay with him" I don't think I would have put up with me the way Yoosung has, I doubt anyone in this world would have either.

"I see..." Zen looked upset but the emotion didn't stay long, it was soon replaced with a hopeful and cheerful light in his eyes as he suggested an idea.

"I could come with you! It would be nice for me to see more places" I wasn't sure what to say, should I say no? He's a grown man I can't tell him where he can and can't go but I don't think bringing him back is the best idea.

Where would he stay? I don't own the place, Yoosung does, it's his apartment and there's barely any room for the two of us! to bring Zen there, I just... I just don't see where he's going to stay.

"Zen... I'm sorry... you can't but now that I know that you moved back here I can come to visit when I can and if you give me your number I can call you" The hope and cheer left as the saddening look return but this time with confusion as a company.

"I...I don't have a number" Zen struggled to say.

"Oh.. well then I'll just visit when I can" I stood up and quickly averted my gaze to keep from looking at his bottom half.

"O-okay..when do you think you'll be visiting?" I shrugged, I don't know when I'll have the time to, it's not like it cost much to travel here but that's not the problem.

Me finding the time is, I didn't even have time for today but that didn't matter since....well just since, and let's let that sentence remain unfinished, I'm sure it's clear where I was going with that anyway.

"I'm sorry Zen but I don't know, hopefully not long, I really would like to see you again soon" I used my left hand to rub my right elbow, sighing.

"I really do need to go back and apologize for my behavior, see if I can fix things and try to be better" Zen rose up and stepped toward me a tiny bit.

"I don't see why that means I can't come?" He sounded confused like he honestly didn't understand.

"Well there wouldn't be any place for you to stay and I have to leave as soon as possible if I want any chance of getting back before I miss work" Even then my chances of getting there on time are slim but with a little luck it probably won't be too late.

"Which speaking of I should go now, it was nice seeing you again Zen, I'll try to be back soon" I gave him a quick hug before rushing off for a payphone.

My cell is definitely a no go after the stunt I just pulled.

🌊🌊🌊🌊

Well, I didn't find a payphone (honestly what did I expect?) but I was fortunate enough to come across someone who lent me theirs, I called Yoosung and told him where I was.

He, of course, was wondering why was I back in my old hometown and why hadn't I said anything about going but I told him, I'd explain everything once he picked me up.

With how terrible of a friend I was, I was surprised he agreed to do it, I honestly called him in hopes he'd do it but didn't expect that he would.

I was filled with relief when he said he'd be on his way, I gave the phone back to the person and went to the place I told Yoosung to pick me up from.

It was going to be a while so I ended up falling asleep as I was waiting.

The dreams I was having as I slept was very weird, it was tonight's events but it was slightly different, as I was drowning, feeling helpless, and having last-minute regrets.

I saw Zen swimming towards me but that's not what was weird it was that he had a fishtail like a mermaid or something, why would I dream that he was a merman?

I've never really given any thought to mermaids or the likes before in my life and I don't see how what happened tonight would influence my dreams like this, but yet here I was dreaming about Merman Zen and receiving CPR from him...what a weird dream to have...

#Mystic Messenger #Zen x Reader #Zen Mystic Messenger #Merman Zen #Mermaid AU #fanfiction

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weshallc · 4 years

Text

Happy St. Andrew’s Day. 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿

Thank you so much to everyone who has been reading Bonfire Night! I haven’t put it on the usual fic sites as I knew I would mess about, and Tumblr folk are a patient bunch. I am going to rejig it so it stretches from Bonfire Night to Christmas (probably New Year at this rate) looking back over 2020.

Thank you for the lovely comments and support from @h4t08 @fourteen-teacups @thatginchygal @bbcshipper @roguesnitch @lovetheturners and new regular @aimee-jessica and @olafur-neal

I really don’t know what I have been doing with my time apart from washing my hands, measuring distances of 2 metres, sewing masks, swearing at the news, collecting Scotch egg and pasty recipes and building a pantry to hoard all my Brexshit preparation supplies.

Enough about me, so as it’s St. Andrew’s Day I thought I might give this another spin.

BERNS NIGHT (Revisited, just for fun)

Call the Midwife AU (Crown Jewels/Paddy and Bernie/Poplar-on-Tweaven)

CHAPTER ONE: FAIR FA’ YOUR HONEST, SONSIE FACE

“Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face, Great chieftain o' the pudding-race! Aboon them a' ye tak your place, Painch, tripe, or thairm : Weel are ye wordy o'a grace As lang's my arm.” Address to a Haggis by Robert Burns 1786.

“Will You Reconize me? Call My Name or Walk On By.” Don’t You (Forget About Me). Simple Minds 1985.

Monday 25th January 2016

“His knife see rustic Labour dight, An' cut you up wi' ready sleight, Trenching your gushing entrails bright, Like ony ditch; And then, O what a glorious sight, Warm-reekin', rich!”

The room was swept in darkness apart from the light of the wolf moon and the north star penetrating the cold window panes. All eyes were facing towards a wooden table and the elderly man stood behind it. He was in his 60s and wiry, small for a man, but with a silver mess of what once must have been a bonnie head of fire red hair. The body may have looked weak, but the intensity in his bright blue eyes cut through the dimly lit surroundings.

As he spoke again, his voice filled the room, cutting through the anticipating silence. It was a voice that could take a knife and slice right through a soul. The knife in his hand in turn sliced through the offering in front of its high priest. Years of performing the same action with such a passion resulted in precision. The faithful entranced by the spectacle all gasped as one as the incision was violently made. No one daring to speak. Suddenly the trance was lost as artificial light rudely brought everyone back to the present with a blast of the pipes.

“All done then, Reverend Mannion? Can I serve the Haggis now? Don’t want it getting cold now, do we, not at £15 a head.”

“Aye, Violet, the ceremony is over. It’s time for eating and drinking, something the bard would have approved of, rightly so.”

The kilted clergyman winked at an auburn-haired girl in the crowd and tipped his whisky tumbler toward her. She raised her own glass and winked back. Her companion at her table was much taller with dark hair styled in a tidy no-nonsense bob.

The tall one leaned toward the small one and asked, “If it’s already dead, why does he have to kill it?”

“What?”

“The Haggis if it’s already dead, why does he have to kill it?”

Her friend opened her mouth to speak, but she saw a tender hand take hold of Chummy’s arm and explain it was all just ceremony, it was tradition.

“Like all that malarkey at our passing out parade, the day we got our badge. That wasn’t about police work, was it? It’s just tradition. It’s what the English do well.”

He had been doing really well up until then, but a golden raised eyebrow made him alter his stance. “It is what us Brits do best.”

The raised eyebrow whispered to the police constable. ”Peter, Chummy really doesn’t think a haggis is a real animal, does she?”

He was not the sort of man that would turn heads, but he had a kindness in his eyes and an openness in his face she thought some would see as attractive. If only Camilla wasn’t his superior, and they didn’t work such long hours together, what might have been?

She knew her friend well and sensed more queries would follow. Not sure as a Scot brought up on Tweavenside and now living in London she could provide satisfying answers. Picking up their empty glasses and heading to the bar was a strange sort of refuge for a vicar's daughter and inner-city missionary.

There was a queue, well sort of a queue. In London a queue was made up of people standing in an orderly line and the person who had been stood the longest getting served first. In Poplar-on-Tweaven it resembled more of a rugby scrum and the person who shouted the loudest being ignored, Anyone who called the barmaid by name was bunked up the order. She wasn’t familiar with busy bars, but she was bright enough to work out the system.

“Val, when yer ready hen.” The request came from someone not sure that was their own voice they had just heard yelling those words.

All her life she had been immersed in the wonders of the Bible and was still amazed at how so many miracles had been performed. She had heard all the CPR arguments regarding resurrections and all that, and was still not convinced. But, she now knew how Moses had parted the Red Sea, he had known the barmaid’s name was Valerie.

“What can I get you, chick?”

“Here! I was first.” A grumpy voice struck up.

“Oh Al, you are always first. Let me serve this lass and then I will sort you out”

“Promises, promises.”

“Yeah in your dreams, pal.”

She was starting to feel uncomfortable she hadn’t meant to jump the queue. Maybe she should go back to the table and let Peter get the drinks. A man’s voice interrupted her thoughts, it was quieter than Al’s but held an authority. It wasn’t a Tweavenside accent, but it had a northern softness.

“You serve our impatient friend Valerie, I will see to this young lady.” Then turning to his new customer, “What can I get you, pet”

“Erm a whisky and lemonade and erm a pint, please.”

“Which whisky and a pint of?”

She wasn’t sure; she nudged her bottom onto a vacant stool for security.

“Are you with the law?” The tall bartender nodded towards Chummy and Peter,

“Yes, yes, I am.”

“OK, so that’s a Grouse and diet lemonade, just a dash and a pint of Buckles Best and for you?”

He stepped back a minute. “Your Reverend Wilf’s daughter?”

“Yes, I am.” Bernie suddenly felt more sure of herself. She was never completely certain of who she was when back in Poplar.

“Bernadette?” The stranger was grinning now, his brown eyes glinting under the harsh bar spotlights, or were they green?

“Well, that’s my Sunday name most people call me Bernie, even Dad.”

“Well, since I’ve never seen you in here on a Sunday or any other day. I will call you Bernie. I am Patrick Turner, most people call me Paddy, a few Doc.”

“Oh no, you won’t have seen me here on a Sunday or any other day. I live in London now and before that, well, I am not a big drinker.”

“What can I get you then?” asked Paddy loitering near the coke and lemonade pumps.

“A gin and tonic please, better make it a double it’s quite busy, save me coming back.”

Paddy smiled. “Premium gin?”

“Yes.”

While the optic was emptying into the glass, he asked, “You must have known this old place when Evie ran it?”

“Yes, I know Evie and J..Jenny”

“Oh yes. Jen was here when the wife and I took over she was a great help. We get a text every now and again, doing well for herself now, all loved up.” He winked at her as he ended the sentence, causing her to panic slightly.

“I was sorry to hear about your loss.” She wished she hadn’t said it.

Val had seemed to deal with ten customers to Paddy’s one, and now there was just the two of them alone at the bar. He looked at her in a sort of a non-direct, sort of direct way. Under that infuriating fringe she wanted to reach out and push back.

“Loss is as much a part of love as is healing,” he replied with a hint of melancholy, but without irony.

She was stunned and tried to find a corresponding Bible verse, but she drew a blank.

She focused on what was real and what was present. Her dad had taught her to do that. What was in front of her at this precise moment was a glass of gin and ice and a twist of lime. He was now unscrewing a bottle of Mediterranean slimline tonic.

She yelped, “No!” as he lay the bottle alongside the glass.

“Sorry most people add the tonic to the gin and I cannae bear it drowned.”

“Wouldn't dream of it, surely that would be very presumptuous of me.”

“Aye well, most people I've met are very presumptuous.”

“Maybe you have spent too much time in London. if you don't mind me saying, Bernie.”

“Well, to be fair, we don’t spend a lot of time sitting on stools and propping up bars in my part of London.”

“More's the pity.”

“Can I bother you for a...”

Paddy popped a black straw into her tumbler.

“I will make sure when you come home next time none of my staff will be presumptuous.”

“Oh, I doubt you will remember me, Paddy. I only come up to see my Da. I can't imagine you will be seeing much of me in the future, hardly likely that I would ever be considered a regular.”

“Now who is being presumptuous?”

Bernie went to put the straw between her lips but paused, realizing the stranger was still watching her. She suddenly felt uncomfortable. As heat rose in her cheeks. She suddenly felt awkward on the stool, squirming to find some sort of comfortable position. The stranger smiled in a way she could not understand; it wasn’t smug or suggestive, but as if there were sharing a joke, but she wasn’t sure what the joke was.

She hopped off her seat, for a brief moment realizing her arse was in the air and prayed he had altered his gaze. Focusing anywhere but behind the bar, she grabbed her glass and bottle in one hand, put the whisky against her elbow and waist, the pint in her other hand, turned and swiftly moved toward her thirsty friends.

Shelagh Bernadette Mannion don’t you dare look back and see if he is watching you he is recently widowed with a son, Da said. He is, what do they call them now, a bloomer or something like that. God has shown you his path for you and it certainly does not include the Crown Inn, Poplar-on-Tweaven.

He is still watching me, I can feel it.

#call the midwife #wee reblog #berns night #chapter one #more to follow llater #as in llama #not alpaca #desk top doesn't do flag emoji #found a saltire #and remembered to add extra song

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #466

“she is the butcher, she wants the air / she hides the scars under her hair”

Who do you think cares the most about you? My mom. What do you do when you’re pissed off? Isolate and cry. Have you ever had unprotected sex? Good luck catchin' me do that. What did your mother study at university? Social work. What was the last thing you took a video of? I have zero idea. What is your least favorite kind of weather? Hot and humid weather can actually fuck off. What was the last housework you did? Does changing my cat's litter count? Have you ever had famous neighbors? Not to my knowledge. Have you ever lived in a small community where everyone knew each other? Nope. Have you ever actually drank warm milk? NO EW EW EW EW EW Do you talk to your pets? If you don't, are you REALLY a pet parent??????? Who is a famous person you could see yourself reading a biography about? He's always said he doesn't want to but I really hope Mark writes an autobiography one day alskdjklafjw;ejr Are there any numbers you dislike for any reason? No. What skill that you have do you make most use of? idk man Have you ever done something sexual that you regret? Nah. Have you ever said anything to the last person you kissed that you regret? No. Have you ever ate so much you puked? No. Do you care about what others think of your physical appearance? Sometimes/some places yes, other times/places, no. Would you rather eat cookies or brownies? It would probably change with what I'm feeling, but I lean towards a nice center piece brownie. :^) If you’re out late, where are you likely to be? This literally never happens. Do you ever visit your mall’s arcade (if it has one)? Our mall is lame as fuck. It definitely doesn't have one. What’s your absolute favorite topic to discuss? Mark, lmao. What is your least favorite topic to discuss? Politics. Have you ever been confined to a wheelchair? "Confined" seems like a strong word, but a nurse did give me one at the doctor's office when I massively tore a ligament in my foot and could barely walk at all. If you have a job, who’s your closest friend at work? Don't remind me that I don't have a job. Have you told anyone you love them today? Not yet, but I'm sure I will later. Have you ever worked in an office? No, but I guess that's what I'm going to wind up going for once I'm ready to job-hunt again... It feels sad that I'm actually aiming for the cubicle life now just because my interaction with people would be much more limited than with most other jobs. Who does the grocery shopping in your house? My mom. Do you prefer margarine or butter, and why? I don't even know if I'd recognize the taste difference. Have you ever been in serious trouble at work or school? No. Do you have any strange fears or phobias that you’re embarrassed of? That I'm embarrassed of, no. Can you smell anything right now? No. Have you ever tried coconut water? No. Which Asian country would you like to visit the most? Idk. Maybe Japan? How old were your parents when they got engaged? I have no idea. Have you ever done a first aid course? No. If so, would you be prepared to perform CPR if necessary? No. Have you ever ‘done it’ in a hotel room? No. Just the idea grosses me out. Where is your next vacation? Couldn't tell ya, buddy. Which are better black or green olives? I'm not a fan of black olives, and I won't even TRY green ones. They just look so fucking disgusting to me. Does your car have a backup camera? Mom's doesn't. Have either of your parents ever been in trouble with the law? No. Do you have a preferred brand of bottled water? Essentia. Is your skin more oily, dry, or combination? It's a combination depending on the location. Where did you meet your current significant other? High school band. What kind of house do you wish you lived in? One that's in the woods. What was the last compliment you received from an old lady? I don't have a clue. Do you know how to cut hair? Properly, no. Have you ever had a classmate die? I believe maybe once? If you have a song stuck in your head, what is it? I recently discovered "Foxy, Foxy" by Rob Zombie and it's Good Stuff. Do you tend to space out a lot? Very much so. What people have changed your life for the better? My parents, my psychiatrist, a PHP therapist, Sara, debatably Jason... Have you ever had any kind of dangerous addiction? What’s this addiction? Caffeine, I guess. Are your parents still married, divorced, or split up? Like this decision? They're divorced, and while it sucks for your parents to split up, it's a decision that I definitely approve of given all they ever did was fight when I was growing up. Them staying together would've been very destructive. Have you ever heard of Hollywood Undead? Do you like them? Well yeah, and I like a large number of songs to where I'd consider myself a fan. I actually had a shirt in high school. Has anyone ever called you a coward before? Who called you that? I don't believe so. Are you a Jeffree Star fan? Or no? Do you think he’s awesome/dumb? Honestly, yes. Like he's done dumb shit, but has more than sufficiently apologized for it in my opinion and changed his behavior for the better. I also - astonishingly - like his music quite a bit. As well, his work ethic is fucking INCREDIBLE, like extremely admirable. Has your grandmother ever made you anything? Not including cookies. I don't think so. I don't even think she ever liked me. Do you disgust anyone? Did they tell you that? Why is this, anyways? Not that I know of. When was the last time you cried, and why (if you want to share)? I don't remember, actually. Probably just about life. Who was the last person who was rude to you? *shrug* Do you have a relationship with God? lol no, and even if I believed in him, I wouldn't have a remotely decent opinion of that entity. Is weed legal in your state? No. Have you ever thrown up in class? In kindergarten, yes. What is something that you used to be ashamed of, but now you’re not? As a kid, being a girl, I was so embarrassed by liking Pokemon. Now, I am literally wearing an Eeveelutions shirt and went out in public lmao. I couldn't care less about loving them cuties. Have you ever walked outside in below zero weather? No; I've never experienced those temperatures. Have you ever held a newborn baby? Yes, but I was sitting down. I would be WAY too scared of dropping a baby otherwise. Are a ton of your Facebook friends getting married and having kids now? I legitimately think most of my friends on there already have kids and/or are married/engaged. It's triggering sometimes and was a massive motivator for me taking a break from there. What’s something you believe in that most people don’t? So uh, I hope this doesn't sound insensitive given how it just passed, but I 100% believe the U.S. government was to some extent involved in 9/11. There is an incredible amount of evidence when you do the research. Is there anyone who’s dear in your heart who’s going down the wrong path? I worry about one of my good friends quite a bit. She is horribly addicted to pot (like, she admits it) in a state where it's not legal, and I'm concerned she'll face legal repercussions eventually. She also dates an absolute lowlife asshole, but they've been together for a very long time, and I just worry about how that might damage her later down the road. Do you get enough sleep? God, it never feels like it. What’s something you wish you would have known sooner? That college wouldn't work for me. Like, I dropped out of three. I do NOT want to know the debt I'm in. What’s the next big project you plan to start? Idk. Possibly something for Girt's birthday because Mom really pissed me off and doesn't want to spend *any*thing to help me get something for him. Is that bad on my end? Like she pointed out he knows I don't work, but like... come on. He's my bf, one of my greatest friends ever, and you can't spare anything? I really don't know if that's selfish or not; it's just that if I get him nothing, I will feel like ACTUAL garbage. So making something may just be my only option. I just dunno what... Do you think you were cute in your baby pictures? omg yes, idk what happened Do you remember pre-school? A lot of it, yes. My long-term memory is pretty damn amazing. Would you allow your children to date prior to 16? Yes. Does your town have a farmer’s market? I think so? Which app on your phone do you tend to get the most notifications from? Pokemon GO, lol. How old were you when you met your current best friend? Around 11. What is something you gave up on after many failed attempts? Photography is coming real fuckin close. I've been trying to go somewhere with that for YEARS. Would you rather read a book, or listen to the audiobook? Physically read. I think my attention would stray listening to an audiobook. Do you think tomorrow will be a better day than today? It's possible, idk. I had a doctor's appointment today that absolutely slaughtered my mood, so I feel fucking horrific, but Girt is also coming over today, and I'm sure he'll cheer me up. I won't see him tomorrow, so that's a bummer. With which friend are you most likely to share a secret? Sara. What is the last thing you complained about? It's hot as shit outside. Is there a show you swear that you will never watch? 13 Reasons Why. What was the last topic that you ranted about? Anti-vax bullshit. Who is the most sensitive person that you know? Bitch, me. Have you ever had a tooth (or teeth) pulled? No. What did you do last Halloween? Literally nothing on the actual holiday. :/ Fire drills: Did you ever wish they were real… just once? ... To get out of school, yes. :x What was the last thing that you felt strongly about? I am still positively livid about Texas' "heartbeat bill." Fuck that place and fuck that law. What is one insecurity you have about your body? Um, everything???? What is one part of your body that you are proud of? Nothing????

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''foxy foxy'' by rob zombie

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set-wingedwarrior · 5 years

Note

Prompt: Bumbleby; Yang running on a treadmill while connected to a heart monitor as part of a stress test, the stress proving too much for Yang's heart, resulting in a massive heart attack/cardiac arrest and Blake must revive her. Feel free to tweak this to your liking.

I'll be honest bud, when I got your prompt it kinda drove crazy. How was I supposed to give Yang, strong healthy woman, a heart attack because of a run??? So, long story short, I deserve a medal for this xD It's a little forced maybe, but I made it work. Hope you'll like it!

AO3

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

“No!”

“Blake, please-”

“No Yang, I won’t let you do this!”

Yang sighed.

The situation in Mantle was tragic, but Dr. Polendina wasn’t the only scientist who enjoyed to work down there. After Ironwood’s martial law, and Salem’s imminent arrival (That giant Grimm whale was as scary as it was slow), he got in touch with some other great minds, friends of his.

There was only so much they could do, and the priority at the moment, considering how Atlas was abandoning them, was to somehow restore the heat generators.

The only way they found was somehow connecting their auras to a device that supposedly would generate heat and get everything back functioning again, but they soon found out that it wasn’t enough; it needed a powerful semblance to link to that.

That’s where Yang comes into play.

Someone so powerful and with a fire-based semblance? It was perfect, a miracle! But the procedure had its risks, and they were mindful to warn and give her a choice.

Predictably enough, Yang accepted the risks and responsibility in a heartbeat. The same couldn’t be said for Blake though.

“You heard them, they need a powerful aura and semblance to have a chance for it to work.”

“Then why don’t we send Nora?” Blake wasn’t proud of herself for being willing to sacrifice another friend above another, but it was Yang they were talking about “Who better than someone with a electricity-based semblance to reactivate a system!?!” she couldn’t lose her.

“Because they need heat, not electricity.” Yang calmly explained. She understood Blake’s feelings, she would’ve acted the same in her place, so she didn’t hold her offering of Nora against her “Plus, Nora conducts electricity, she doesn’t produce it like I do with my fire.”

“I still don’t want you to do this.”

I don’t want to lose you.

“Blake.” Yang carefully approached her, gently taking her hands in hers “I don’t know what else to say. But it might save hundreds of lives: I have to do this.”

The Faunus knew from the beginning that she wouldn’t have been able to change her mind, not when Yang already made her decision, when it was about everyone’s wellbeing, hers included. She just hoped she would.

“I’ll be fine.” Yang added, hoping to soothe at least some of her fears, even if she was in no position to make any promises.

Blake carelessly dropped Yang’s hands, worrying the blonde for a moment, before settling hers around her waist in a crushing hug “You better be.”

Yang hugged her back, holding her around her shoulders and close to her chest. Blake was able to listen to Yang’s heartbeat from there, and she focused on the calming regularity of her beats as if it was the last time she would hear them, yet praying with her whole being that it wasn’t.

They stayed like that until later, when the scientists came to retrieve Yang, informing her that the device was ready. Blake stubbornly followed them, refusing to leave her side; she had a promise to keep after all.

“…this is going to work, right?” Blake asked Pietro, but her real question was clear; will she be safe?

“We took all the available precautions; this is as safe as it can be.” Pietro answered honestly. He learned quickly how much the group valued honesty.

Blake nodded, worryingly looking over Yang. The blonde was on a treadmill, a lot of suction cups with cables connected to a monitor stuck on her chest.

The plan was to slowly trigger her semblance, keeping it under control and using fatigue (aka running) instead of a brutal beating. Yang wasn’t really sure if it would’ve worked like that, but she never tried either. She could even gain a new way to use her semblance out of this, which was good.

“Are you ready?” Piero asked. Yang answered with a thumbs up and an encouraging grin made specifically for Blake.

The scientists turned the device on, and Yang started running, taking it slow to release her semblance power. The monitor lit up with all the data about her aura, semblance, power, and heartbeat. The latter somehow reassured Blake.

After more or less ten minutes they could see it was working. Their machine was taking up on all the energy, storing it until it would be enough to try and reactivate the heat system for the whole city.

Yang was panting and sweating, not much for such a short time run, but under the effort to control her semblance to such a gradual buildup. She now had shiny hair and red eyes, but instead of her usual explosion of fire and power it was like a little flame that she was trying to keep at moderate measure, not too much to burst into a fire and not too less to burn out.

It seemed to go and work pretty well, but the moment Blake started relaxing something went wrong.

The monitor started beeping, Yang’s heartbeat went crazy irregular while the girl gripped on her chest in pain, yet still stubbornly keeping running.

“What is going on?” Blake demanded out of the scientists, but didn’t even let them open their mouth “Yang, stop!”

The blonde did stop, but not because of Blake’s order; her heart abruptly stopped functioning and the girl fell ungraciously to the ground.

“YANG!” Blake screamed, and immediately ran beside her partner.

Uncaring of everything and everyone else, she detached all the devices from Yang and gently laid her back to the ground, checking her wrist and neck both for her pulse. There was none.

Slightly panicked, Blake tried again leaning her hear to her chest, just to get the same answer.

“Yang!” Blake cried again, with tears in her eyes, but refused to let panic and fears control her. No, if she wanted to help her, she needed to stay calm.

Blake took a deep breath, then got immediately to work, straddling Yang’s hips and leaning her hands to her chest. Summoning all the first-aid knowledge she got both from Beacon and the White Fang, she started the first thirty compressions series.

Blake paused, pinched Yang’s nose tight and leaned down to join their lips and blew. She then leaned down to find pulse: there was none.

She tried again and again there was nothing.

“Yang, please!” Blake was fully crying now, but that didn’t stop her from continuing the CPR. “You can’t leave me!” She wouldn’t stop until Yang opened her eyes.

Minutes went by and Blake was getting more and more desperate. She was about to lose hope, when Yang abruptly opened her eyes with a choked gasp.

“Yang!” Blake sighed as the greatest relief she ever felt washed over her. She never thought to say that, but not even their past encounters with Adam scared her like that.

Blake took place beside her, gently pulling the blonde up to help her breath, and only when she was certain Yang was out of risks did she pull her close to her chest.

“…Blake?”

“Don’t you ever scare me like that again! You heard me?” Blake cried in her hair, holding her closer. Yang nodded subtly and hugged her back.

Blake never was a controlling person, knowing from personal experience how bad it felt, and always let others free in their choices. But, as sure as the moon was scattered, as long as she was breathing, she would never let Yang put her life at risk like that ever again.

#rwby #bumbleby #bumbleby fic #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #request #heart attack #my fic

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thedevilnamedlola · 3 years

Text

"Usually, I lie. At a party, someone asks the question. It’s someone who hasn’t smelled the rancid decay of week-dead flesh or heard the rattle of fluid flooding lungs. I shake the ice in my glass, smile, and lie. When they say, “I bet you always get that question,” I roll my eyes and agree.

There are plenty of in-between stories to delve into; icky, miraculous ones and reams of the hilarious and stupid. I did, after all, become a paramedic knowing it would stack my inner shelves with a library of human tragicomedy. I am a writer, and we are nothing if not tourists gawking at our own and other people’s misery. No?

The dead don’t bother me. Even the near-dead, I’ve made my peace with. When we meet, there’s a very simple arrangement: Either they’re provably past their expiration date and I go about my business, RIP, or they’re not and I stay. A convenient set of criteria delineates the provable part: if they have begun to decay; if rigor mortis has set in; if the sedentary blood has begun to pool at their lowest point, discoloring the skin like a slowly gathering bruise. The vaguest criterion is called obvious death, and we use it in those bizarre special occasions that people are often sniffing for when they ask questions at parties: decapitations, dismemberments, incinera- tions, brains splattered across the sidewalk. Obvious death.

One of my first obvious deaths was a portly Mexican man who had been bicycling along the highway that links Brooklyn to Queens. He’d been hit by three cars and a dump truck, which was the only one that stopped. The man wasn’t torn apart or flattened, but his body had twisted into a pretzel; arms wrapped around legs. Somewhere in there was a shoulder. Obvious death. His bike lay a few feet away, gnarled like its owner. Packs and packs of Mexican cigarettes scattered across the highway. It was three a.m. and a light rain sprinkled the dead man, the bicycle, the cigarette packs, and me, made us all glow in the sparkle of police flares. I was brand new; cars kept rushing past, slowing down, rushing past.

Obvious death. Which means there’s nothing we can do, which means I keep moving with my day, with my life, with whatever I’ve been pondering until this once-alive-now-inanimate object fell into my path.If I can’t check off any of the boxes—if I can’t prove the person’s dead—I get to work and the resuscitation flowchart erupts into a tree of brand-new and complex options. Start CPR, intubate, find a vein, put an IV in it. If there’s no vein and you’ve tried twice, drill an even bigger needle into the flat part of the bone just below the knee. Twist till you feel a pop, attach the IV line. If the heart is jiggling, shock it; if it’s flatlined, fill it with drugs. If the family lingers, escort them out; if they look too hopeful, ease them toward despair. If time slips past and the dead stay dead, call it. Signs of life? Scoop ’em up and go.

You see? Simple.

Except then one day you find one that has a quiet smile on her face, her arms laying softly at her sides, her body relaxed. She is ancient, a crinkled flower, and was dying for weeks, years. The fam- ily cries foul: She had wanted to go in peace. A doctor, a social worker, a nurse—at some point all opted not to bother having that difficult conversation, perhaps because the family is Dominican and the Spanish translator wasn’t easily reachable and anyway, someone else would have it, surely, but no one did. And now she’s laid herself down, made all her quiet preparations and slipped gently away. Without that single piece of paper though, none of the lamentations matter, the peaceful smile doesn’t matter. You set to work, the tree of options fans out, your blade sweeps her tongue aside and you battle in an endotracheal tube; needles find their mark. Bumps emerge on the flat line, a slow march of tiny hills that resolve into tighter scribbles. Her pulse bounds against your fingers; she is alive.

But not awake, perhaps never to be again. You have brought not life but living death, and fuck what I’ve seen, because that, my friends at the party, my random interlocutor who doesn’t know the reek of decay, that is surely one of the craziest things I have ever done.

But that’s not what I say. I lie.

Which is odd because I did, after all, become a medic to fill the library stacks, yes? An endless collection of human frailty vignettes: disasters and the expanding ripple of trauma. No, that’s not quite true. There was something else, I’m sure of it.

And anyway, here at this party, surrounded by eager listeners with drinks in hand, mouths slightly open, ready to laugh or gasp, I, the storyteller, pause. In that pause, read my discomfort.

On the job, we literally laugh in the face of death. In our crass humor and easy flow between tragedy and lunch break, outsiders see callousness: We have built walls, ceased to feel. As one who laughs, I assure you that this is not the case. When you greet death on the daily, it shows you new sides of itself, it brings you into the fold. Gradually, or maybe quickly, depending on who you are, you make friends with it. It’s a wary kind of friendship at first, with the kind of stilted conversation you might have with a man who picked you up hitch- hiking and turns out to have a pet boa constrictor around his neck. Death smiles because death always wins, so you can relax. When you know you won’t win, it lets you focus on doing everything you can to try to win anyway, and really, that’s all there is: The Effort.

The Effort cleanses. It wards off the gathering demons of doubt. When people wonder how we go home and sleep easy after bearing witness to so much pain, so much death, the answer is that we’re not bearing witness. We’re working. Not in the paycheck sense, but in the sense of The Effort. When it’s real, not one of the endless parade of chronic runny noses and vague hip discomforts, but a true, soon- to-be-dead emergency? Everything falls away. There is the patient, the family, the door. Out the door is the ambulance and then farther down the road, the hospital. That’s it. That’s all there is.

Awkward text messages from exes, career uncertainties, generalized aches and pains: They all disintegrate beneath the hugeness that is someone else’s life in your hands. The guy’s heart is failing; fluid backs up in those feebly pumping chambers, erupts into his lungs, climbs higher and higher, and now all you hear is the raspy clatter every time he breathes. Is his blood pressure too high or too low? You wrap the cuff on him as your partner finds an IV. The monitor goes on. A thousand possibilities open up before you: He might start getting better, he might code right there, the ambulance might stall, the medicine might not work, the elevator could never come. You cast off the ones you can’t do anything about, see about another IV because the one your partner got already blew. You’re sweating when you step back and realize nothing you’ve done has helped, and then everything becomes even simpler, because all you can do is take him to the hospital as fast as you can move without totaling the rig.

He doesn’t make it. You sweated and struggled and calculated and he doesn’t make it, and dammit if that ain’t the way shit goes, but also, you’re hungry. And you’re alive, and you’ve wracked your body and mind for the past hour trying to make this guy live. Death won, but death always wins, the ultimate spoiler alert. You can only be that humbled so many times and then you know: Death always wins. It’s a warm Thursday evening and grayish orange streaks the horizon. There’s a pizza place around the corner; their slices are just the right amount of doughy. You check inside yourself to see if anything’s shattered and it’s not, it’s not. You are alive. You have not shattered.

You have not shattered because of The Effort. The Effort cleanses because you have become a part of the story, you are not passive, the very opposite of passive, in fact. Having been humbled, you feel amazing. Every moment is precise and the sky ripples with delight as you head off to the pizza place, having hurled headlong into the game and given every inch of yourself, if only for a moment, to a losing struggle.

It’s not adrenaline, although they’ll say that it is, again and again. It is the grim, heartbroken joy of having taken part. It is the difference between shaking your head at the nightly news and taking to the streets. It’s when you finally tell her how you really feel, the moment you craft all your useless repetitive thoughts into a prayer.

At the party, as they look on expectantly, I draft one of the lesser moments of horror as a stand-in. The evisceration, that will do. That single strand of intestine just sitting on the man’s belly like a lost worm. He was dying too, but he lived. It was a good story, a terrible night.

I was new and I didn’t know if I’d done anything right. He lived, but only by a hair. I magnified each tiny decision to see if I’d erred and came up empty. There was no way to know. Eventually I stopped taking jobs home with me. I released the ghosts of what I’d done or hadn’t done, let The Effort do what it does and cleanse me in the very moment of crisis. And then one night I met a tiny three-year old girl in overalls, all smiles and high-fives and curly hair. We were there because a neighbor had called it in as a burn, but the burns were old. Called out on his abuse, the father had fled the scene. The emergency, which had been going on for years, had ended and only just begun.

The story unraveled as we drove to the hospital; I heard it from the front seat. The mother knew all along, explained it in jittery, sobbing replies as the police filled out their forms. It wasn’t just the burns; the abuse was sexual too. There’d been other hospital visits, which means that people who should’ve seen it didn’t, or didn’t bother setting the gears in motion to stop it. I parked, gave the kid another high five, watched her walk into the ER holding a cop’s hand.

Then we had our own forms to fill out. Bureaucracy’s response to unspeakable tragedy is more paperwork. Squeeze the horror into easy-to-fathom boxes, cull the rising tide of rage inside and check and recheck the data, complete the forms, sign, date, stamp, insert into a metal box and then begin the difficult task of forgetting.

The job followed me down Gun Hill Road; it laughed when I pretended I was okay. I stopped on a corner and felt it rise in me like it was my own heart failing this time, backing fluids into my lungs, breaking my breath. I texted a friend, walked another block. A sob came out of somewhere, just one. It was summer. The breeze felt nice and nice felt shitty.

My phone buzzed. Do you want to talk about it?

I did. I wanted to talk about it and more than that I wanted to never have seen it and even more than that I wanted to have done something about it and most of all, I wanted it never to have hap- pened, never to happen again. The body remembers. We carry each trauma and ecstasy with us and they mark our stride and posture, contort our rhythm until we release them into the summer night over Gun Hill Road. I knew it wasn’t time to release just yet; you can’t force these things. I tapped the word no into my phone and got on the train.

I don’t tell that one either. Stories with trigger warnings don’t go over well at parties. But when the question is asked, the little girl’s smile and her small, bruised arms appear in my mind.

The worst tragedies don’t usually get 911 calls, because they are patient, unravel over centuries. While we obsess over the hyperviolent mayhem, they seep into our subconscious, poison our sense of self, upend communities, and gnaw away at family trees with intergenerational trauma.I didn’t pick up my pen just to bear witness. None of us did. And I didn’t become a medic to get a front-row seat to other people’s tragedies. I did it because I knew the world was bleeding and so was I, and somewhere inside I knew the only way to stop my own bleeding was to learn how to stop someone else’s. Another call crackles over the radio, we pick up the mic and push the button and drive off. Death always wins, but there is power in our tiniest moments, humanity in shedding petty concerns to make room for compassion. We witness, take part, heal. The work of healing in turn heals us and we begin again, laughing mournfully, and put pen to paper.

Daniel José Older"

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myhauntedsalem · 3 years

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13 True Horror Stories from the Psychiatric Ward that Will Give You the Creeps

Without further ado, here are thirteen of some of the creepiest psych ward stories on the internet that have been shared by health care professionals.

1. Holding her own Eyes

My mom told me this story from her time at a neuropsychiatric ward while she was in grad school. She was making her routine room checks and happened upon the most horrific scene I’ve ever heard.

The first staff member to witness the scene, who was now lying face down on the floor, had a heart attack when he first witnessed the woman while he was making his rounds.

My mom screamed for help and frantically tried to perform CPR on the staff member. All the while, the woman just sat rather calmly, holding her own eyes.

2. The Saw

I work as a psychotherapist in a hospital system. My definition of creepy is probably quite a bit different from other medical professionals.

He has since completed suicide.

3. Jane?

4. The Vampire

My mom worked in mental institutions in her younger years (and actually worked at a large, well-known asylum before it was shut down.)

By the time that they discovered there was something physically wrong with her, she already had lost her mind from guilt and grief.

5. The Spitter

6. The Only One

Finally, my counselor asked him if the bird was bothering him and he kind of sighed and said, “Thank god, I thought I was the only one seeing that.”

7. Family Photographs

My sister is the director of a psychiatric hospital. There was recently a lady there who would cut her arms, legs and torso open and place photographs of her family under her skin.

8. Under the Bed

They were stories of patients who had stayed here before, or ways they were planning on killing themselves, or who the good and bad nurses were. It creeped me out.

9. Time of Death

10. The Test Subject

“You can see I’m not irrational,” the man said. “I’m just straight-up telling you that they are doing this to me. I know just how unbelievable it sounds, and yet, here I am.”

11. The Boy who Loved Knives

I believe I met a 7-year-old psychopath.

12. The New Mom

13. Bugs

#13 True Horror Stories from the Psychiatric Ward that Will Give You the Creeps #shared stories #paranormal #ghost and hauntings #ghost and spirits #haunted salem #myhauntedsalem

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misssunflowersandsangria · 4 years

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This is my Idea

Chapter 5: Beach

Hello my beautiful deers! Happy 5th day of @shikatemaweek ! Let’s all take a moment to clap for everyone who participated this week! Whether you created art, shared a story, reblogged, viewed, liked, loved, or supported thank you! I’ve had a lot of fun! Alright here’s the next chapter, then just one more! :/ No real notes for you...Thanks for stopping by to read, enjoy!

Prompt: Beach

Ages:

Shika: 20

Temari: 22

Summary: A day at the beach.

Shikamaru gazed out towards the gate. Temari should be arriving soon if history was any indication. This was now their eighth summer together, but it felt much different. Sure logistically everything was the same. He’d escort her through town and to meetings. She was staying with him at his own place after finally moving from home. It was an arrangement they’d made before her arrival. Nothing on the surface had changed but there was more at stake. She hadn’t mentioned that this would be her last visit but the Queen’s words back in Suna still rattled in his head.

He smiled seeing her familiar shadow walk towards him both of them grinning once coming face to face.

“Princess Temari.”

“Shikamaru.”

“Welcome back to Konoha.”

“Thank you.” Once pleasantries were exchanged he pulled her into a tight hug. He wasn’t sure what summer they’d started to greet one another like this but he relished in the feeling of his arms around her. She sunk into his chest, her own arms wrapped tightly around him.

They stood there for a few heartbeats. Relieved and excited for the next few weeks.

“Welcome home princess.”

They stopped by his home so that she could settle in. The real work would start next week but she wanted to come in earlier.

Surprising him she requested their first activity to go to the beach. Amazingly enough, they’d never actually spent much time there. They had a few walks, parties with friends, and shared sunsets. Today she wanted to swim.

They made their way there and it was like nothing had changed. The conversations between them had always flowed so easily. They updated each other on their lives and friends and while he loved hearing about her life in Suna it was just a painful reminder that he wasn’t there living it with her. For whatever reason, that thought hurt. It was especially difficult hearing about how she was now being pushed to entertain suitors by the council.

“Hey, are you okay?” Temari asked concerned after he’d become quiet once they’d actually arrived at the water. He’d brought them towards the end where it was pretty empty and secluded. The ocean breeze felt heavenly and she missed it often when she was in Suna.

“I’m fine Tem.” He replied avoiding her gaze.

“Yea that’s really obvious.”

“Whatever.” He mumbled in response.

Temari felt herself growing more annoyed. She thought that they would have a pleasant Summer together, this wasn’t how she wanted it to start. “What’s wrong with you? I haven’t even been here a day and you’re acting like it’s been such a chore already. Should I find someone else?”

“You can be such a brat!”

She just rolled her eyes. “You’re still saying that! Why haven’t you gotten your assignment changed then huh? Isn’t babysitting a bratty princess above your pay grade as a Jonin.”

“Fuck! I don’t need this!” He walked off annoyed and frustrated and there was a part of her that felt guilty. He’d been her guide every year now since she’d been coming to Konoha. They had become friends but they easily got on each other’s nerves. It was obvious that something was bothering him and it hurt that he couldn’t trust her with whatever it was.

She decided to give him some space before she went to apologize, it wasn’t fair to him for her to act this way. They were both old enough to handle their emotions better than this. She needed to apologize because despite how she might act or what she said she still valued him in her life. Her Summers in Konoha had become something that she looked forward to every year and that was in large part due to the Shinobi that just stormed off.

She walked to the shore enjoying the feel of the cool water against her feet. Their relationship was so complicated he was her guide, friend, but there was a real part of her that wanted something much more. Something between them had been building and when she arrived there she knew that he was no longer the lazy crybaby that she once knew. He’d grown up, shaped by life and unique experiences. And she wanted to be part of it. She had to argue with the Council why she needed to return to Konoha for the entire Summer. She claimed that there was work that needed to be done in person that would take the entire time. Her family knew that it was just because she wanted at least one more Summer with him. One last Summer together, one last chance to figure this out.

Shikamaru took a few deep breaths trying to calm his nerves. Temari could be so damn difficult and stubborn but he could admit that he would often be the one to set her off. He didn’t know why she got under his skin so easily. Either way, he needed to apologize, and hopefully, they could start off on a better note. He knew that he was annoyed after hearing that she was “dating.” He unfairly took out his frustrations on her. They needed to figure this out. Whatever this tension was between them was not helpful so he made his way back to the shore. He was surprised not seeing her there and it sent him into a panic.

“Tem!” He looked out to the water seeing a figure floundering in the distance.

“Temari!!” He dove into the water swimming out to where she was praying that he wasn’t too late.

He dragged her to the sand trying not to panic at how lifeless she looked.

“Temari, princess, no! Come on.” Shikamaru immediately started CPR trying to force the water from her lungs. Desperate attempts to bring her back. Guilt moving through him, he shouldn’t have walked away.

He felt his body sink when he heard her cough expelling the water.

“Shika...” She groaned taking in deep breaths.

“God Tem, what the hell happened?”

“I wasn’t paying attention, a current pulled me in and I started to panic. I never mentioned this before but I don’t know how to swim. I was going to ask you to teach me.”

He held her tightly, cradling her against his chest. “You difficult, troublesome, wonderful woman. Please don’t ever do that again.” Shikamaru begged the emotion in his voice shocking Temari.

“Why? I thought you were tired of me.”

He shook his head. “I never said that. You’re mean, loud, bratty at times but you’re strong, talented and so incredible. I can’t... I can’t lose you.”

“Really?” She asked hopefully.

“Yes, you’ve become such an important part of my life over these years, I can’t imagine it without you. I love you.”

She felt her breath catch at the admission. “Shikamaru…”

Her hand went to cradle his cheek. “You’re a lazy, cocky annoying Shinobi but I’ve never loved anyone more. I love you.” He held her closely those sweet words resonating in his head.

“No more beaches for you. There’s the pond by the house. I'll teach you how to swim there. I should have asked if you knew how to swim before bringing you here.” He mumbled annoyed, keeping a tight hold on her. All the Summers they spent together it never occurred to him to ask. She lived in the desert, why would she know how to swim?

Temari smiled feeling a warmth spreading through her chest. He loved her.

“Shikamaru…” Surprising him, her lips met his in a sweet kiss. Her lips were still cold reminding him just how close he was to losing her. So his lips moved urgently against her. His hands traveling over her skin warming her where they moved.

“Thank you.” He dropped a kiss on her forehead taking a deep breath holding her tightly. She was okay, alive and well, in his arms.

“You’re going to be super overbearing and protective now huh?” He just laughed into her hair before capturing her lips.

“Absolutely.”

“Come on let’s get you home.” He decided taking off his wet shirt trying to dry it off. Temari couldn’t help but stare at the lean sinew of muscles in front of her. She knew that he’d grown up but she couldn’t have guessed that he’d become this.

Shikamaru felt her heated gaze on him and felt himself blush. “Calm down Princess.”

“Fuck you.” She flustered embarrassed that she’d been caught ogling him.

He chuckled, wrapping his arms around her. “Hey, none of that. I’m yours, you can stare all you want.”

She wanted to fire back a snarky remark but his warm chest against her cool skin felt too good.

“Take me home.”

Once they arrived back at his home she took a warm shower. It gave her some time to reflect on what had just happened. He loved her and she could finally admit that she loved him too. She wondered whether she should be panicked or worried about this change but all she felt was at peace. Like together is where they belonged. Once she was done she changed into one of his shirts. She had her own clothes but it felt like some new right that she had earned. Her fingers affectionately tracing over the Nara clan symbol.

Shikamaru was busy preparing food for them so she sauntered up wrapping her arms around his waist from behind.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, still a little worried.

“Better.” She replied simply nuzzling her face into his back. It was like a weight had been lifted off of her chest, she was here with her Love.

“Good, the food should be done soon.” He turned stunned speechless by her attire captivated by long legs that were on display and a shirt that she filled out very differently.

“Calm down Shikamaru”. She teased him echoing his words from the beach. Without a word she was pinned against the counter, his lips moving urgently against hers. He picked her up to place her on the counter stepping between her legs. His mouth busied itself along her neck while his fingers traced patterns along her legs and thighs.

“Shikamaru…” She breathed sweetly.

“Stop me if I’m going too fast.”

She just grinned pulling him back in, her lips intense and passionate against him. “We’ve been in each other's lives for so long now. I trust you with everything that I am, don’t worry.” She assured him placing soft kisses along his jaw.

His warm hand cupped her cheek, years of love, and affection shining through. “Good because I don’t know how I stopped myself all these years. You’re gorgeous Tem.” Temari felt herself melt at the sweet words and soft look. Holding him this way, the loved ladened sentiments they shared, it was so different but it was still him, her Shikamaru.

This is my Idea

Chapter 1: Trust

Chapter 2: Marriage

Chapter 3: Anniversary

Chapter 4: House Exchange

Chapter 5: Beach

And they are in love...well they’ve been but you know they finally admitted it. Okie, time to go reread everything and view all the art. Love you my sweet little fawns. See you tomorrow!

#shikatemaweek #shikatemaweek2020 #shikatema #shikatem #shikamaru x temari #fanfic #day 5 #beach

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zoequeenz · 4 years

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Extreme Aggressor (Part 3)

MASTERLIST

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Persephone Chase’s POV

Derek is trying to get into the laptop. He’s been trying for a while, nothing is working so he brought in another laptop to try to get into Richard’s. I hear footsteps and I turn around, Gideon, Elle, Hotch, and Spencer enter the room.

“Okay, here we go.” Derek says.

The laptop hums and the login screen pops back up.

“What’s the number six at the bottom of the screen?” Elle asked Derek.

“Number of password attempts before the program wipes the hard drive.” Derek answers.

“There could be an email or a journal in the computer, something that tells us where Heather is. Do you think you can break in?” Elle asks.

“In six tries?” Derek says in disbelief scoffing and shaking his head.

“Try again. Fail again. Fail better.” Gideon says.

Derek doesn’t know what that means and looks at Spencer.

“Samuel Beckett.” Spencer answers with a nod.

Then Derek answers back with.

“Try not. Do. Or do not.”

Before Spencer could answer I say…

“Yoda.”

Spencer looked at me in shock. I smirked at him. If he can’t recall every Saturday night we have movie marathon sleepovers. We watch movie series and he answers all of my questions. Gideon turns and looks at a small shelf on the wall. He reaches out and grabs a book. He looks at it for a second, it is called “Journal of Applied Criminal Psychology”. He flips through the pages and finds a newspaper clipping. The headline reads “-BLAST KILLS SIX”. The photo under it pictures Gideon and another man. It was back six months ago, when six agents died. Spencer finally looks over at it, Gideon and Spencer look at each other and Gideon says…

“I wanna talk to him.”

He closes the book and walks out of the room. After he leaves Derek and Elle look up from the laptop.

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Jason Gideon’s POV

I walk into the kitchen and throw the book down on the table. I taken the seat across from him.

“You read my paper. Learn anything?” I ask Richard.

“Heirens said a man living inside of his head was the one who committed the murders. You said he was lying, that there’d never been an actual case of multiple personalities.” Richard answers.

“You have an academic interest in dissociative identity disorder, or you just planning your defense?” I ask.

He chuckles in response. I pull out the newspaper clipping and show Richard.

“You a fan of Adrien Baal’s work?” I ask him

“No. I’m a fan of yours,” He says leaning forward.

“You know...they never give you the real facts about CPR...that outside of a hospital, it’s only effective 7% of the time. Your friend had a 93% certainty of dying, but you kept trying...even after you’d broken his ribs, even after his blood was all over your hands.”

“Why don’t you tell us where Heather Woodland is?” I ask him ignoring what he just said and keeping eye contact.

“Woodland...isn’t she the girl who went missing a couple days ago?” Slessman asks sitting back in his chair not showing any emotion on his face.

I just nod in response. I look around the room, I see a sign that says “Good little boys are like sunshine.” then a cookie jar that reads “Cookies for Good Boys Only.”

“Get him out of here.” I demand in a whisper like voice.

I walk out of the kitchen and past Hotch giving him a look that says follow me. He walks out and meets me at the side of the house. I am trying to calm myself but it is not working.

“Hey.” Hotch says to grab my attention and I turn to him.

“He said “isn’t she the girl…”. If he’d already killed her, he would have said--.” before I can finish Hotch cuts me off.

“Wasn’t she the girl…”

“She’s alive. We don’t know for how long.” I tell him.

“Is it true what he said about CPR? I mean, I didn’t know.” Hotch tells me.

“You want statistics on CPR, ask Reid.” I snap.

“I wanna know if you’re okay.” he fires back.

“I’m fine.” I say.

“Are you?” he questions.

“Think I can’t do the job?” I ask.

“I think you can’t be two different people at once.” he tells me.

I look away and smile realizing something. “What is it?” Hotch asks me.

“Conflicts in the profile.” I answer.

In my mind I remember the interview; the victim board with Heather on it; other victims crime scene photos; the second dump site; the unsub near the body, turning then running away; the messages; the message that matched the “Lipstick Killer”; the funeral; the child who looked at me; people walking on the sidewalk; the first victim with the belt around her neck; odd photos; a close up of an eye; a map that was labeled and stickered; Slessman walking down the stairs; and lastly sitting across from me.

“Two different behaviors.” Hotch says for me.

“Two different people. There’s a second killer.” I say.

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Elle Greenaway’s POV

Hotch, Gideon, and I are at a government building.I walk behind them as we walk down stairs, god why do they have to be so freakin fast.

“A second Unsub?” I ask surprised.

“It’s not unusual. Remember Lawrence Bittaker and Roy Norris?” Gideon answers.

“1979. They outfitted a van to rape and murder girls in California.” I say.

“We’re looking for someone who fits a similar relationship.” Hotch says.

“They’re not equals. Slessman’s smart, but he is a submissive personality.” Gideon tells us. “So number two is the dominant.” I clarify.

“Authoritative, arrogant.” Gideon adds in.

“Probably not as smart as Slessman.’ Hotch brings to the table.

“He’s like the schoolyard bully recruiting a good underling--he’ll be protective of Richard. He’ll make him feel like he owes him.” Gideon says.

“If Richard’s been up in the attic fantasizing about being an extreme aggressor, this guy showed him how to do it.” Hotch informs.

“He helped him take the first step.” Gideon pushes.

“I think we should interview him, us this as pressure.” I suggest.

Gideon stops and looks at me.

“No, no. We need leverage. A name.” Gideon says.

“ From the suspect list?” I ask.

“That’ll take too long. There’s gotta be a faster way.” Gideon wonders.

“There is.” Hotch says.

He leads us into the lobby. Richard’s grandma is waiting there, I can’t help but feel a bit bad for her. She just found out that her grandson is a suspect in murders and she can barely breathe on her own. She looks for fragile, so tiny.

Hotch comes in with a cup of coffee.

“Here. This might be a little hot.” He warns her.

“Mrs. Slessman, I don’t think we’ve got the right guy. I think the person we’re looking for might be a friend of Richard’s.” Hotch tells her.

“Richard never had many friends.” she tells him.

“You sure? There’s gotta be someone.” Hotch responds.

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Persephone Chase’s POV

We still can’t get into the laptop, we’ve been here for hours and even boy genius can’t get it. Spencer walked out of the room a long time ago and I haven’t seen him since. I miss him, it’s weird not having him around.On cases we go everywhere together, we maybe in the same house but I have absolutely no idea which room he is currently located. I look over at Derek and see him pull out his phone. I already know he is calling Penny a.k.a Penelope Garcia. She is the Technical Analyst for our team.

“You’ve reached Penelope Garcia in the FBI’s ‘Office of Supreme Genius’. Penny greets.

“Hey, it’s Morgan. Need you to work some magic here. I got a program called Deadblot Defense and a girl with only a couple of hours to live, so what do you know?” Derek asks Penny.

“Then you’ve got a problem. Deadbolot’s the number one password crack-resistant software out there. You’re gonna have to get inside this guy’s head to get the password.” Penny tells him.

“I thought I was calling the ‘Office of Supreme Genius’” Derek says in a disappointed tone.

“Well, gorgeous, you’ve been rerouted to the office of ‘Too Friggin’ Bad’” Penny told him.

“Thanks anyway.” Derek says about to hang up but then he does the unthinkable.

“Babygirl it seems as if boy genius and little one are fighting.” Derek tells her.

I look at him with a glare that would put him six feet under. He looks my way and laughs. This is some big game to him. Plus Spencer and I are not fighting, he held my hand when I got nervous. But then again he did that back when we got in a fight a while back he still held my hand because I’m always in need of comfort from my best friend. He puts her on speaker phone.

“Wait, what?!?! Fighting but they are meant to be.” Penny cries.

“I know right, they are in separate rooms at the moment. They can’t stare at each other anymore then look away when the other looks at them.” Derek says dramatically.

“Alright, alright I get it we are “perfect” together. But there is no romantic feelings between us.” I tell them.

Of course I’m lying. I have always had feelings for Spencer. He has always been there for me, even when we are fighting he still is there. Everyone thinks we would be cute together but I think he only thinks of me as sister. I love the boy but he doesn’t love me.

“Haha very funny little one but there is totally some romance between you two, you just can’t see it.” Derek laughs.

“Yeah Sweetheart it doesn’t take a profiler to see that you two are meant to be.” Penny says in a serious tone.

“Whatever, I don’t care how much you believe there is nothing between us.” I say.

“Okay, believe what you want little one, bye babygirl.” Derek says hanging up the phone.

“REALLY?!?!” I scream at Derek.

“Little One, come on everyone knows there is some feelings there. Why are you getting so mad.” Derek asks.

I just roll my eyes and walk out of the room. I love Derek like a brother but sometimes he can get on my nerves. Kinda wish that I went with Elle, Gideon, and Hotch. Where is Spencer? This house isn’t even that big, where could he be? I walk outside, I need to think…

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Jason Gideon’s POV

Hotch was interviewing Mrs. Slessman. We needed some information about Richard that he didn’t plan on telling us.

“Well, there was...there was this one young man. I think his name was Charlie.” Mrs. Slessman told Hotch.

“Cross-reference Charlie for the second Unsub.” I told Elle and she begins typing.

“Charlie is probably Charles Linder. He was Slessman’s cellmate and received a dishonorable discharge from the military.” Elle says pointing to the screen.

“He’s bigger, tougher. He could have protected Richard in prison. Where were they incarcerated?” I ask her after explaining that he is the dominant one in the relationship.

“Cascadia. Less than a mile from here.” Elle says with a smile on her face.

“Let’s go.” I say walking out of the office.

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Persephone Chase’s POV

I follow Derek into the bathroom after my failed attempt of looking for Spencer. When I look back at Derek I see him open the mirror. He pulls out a bottle and shows it to me.

“My name is Richard Slessman, and I have trouble sleeping.” Derek says out loud to no one.

We then walk into Richard’s room. I think I know what’s going on here. Derek is putting himself in Richard’s shoes. Derek lays flat on Richard’s bed and sighs.

“Okay. What do I do when I’m trying to sleep.” Derek asks again to no one.

He reaches up into a cubbyhole above Richard’s bed. He pulls out a lot of CDs; he then finds a portable CD player and headphones. He looks for a CD in the player but there is none. He then looks my way and notices I’m standing next to a CD rack. Oh joy we get to go through that now. Yippe. He then walks over to me.

“Persephone, guys, a little help. We’re going through everyone of these Cds--scratches, wear and tear. I wanna know which CD he plays the most. Let’s go.”He commands.

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Spencer Reid’s POV

Hotch has me looking for an address for Linder. I hear footsteps and I already know it’s Hotch.

“We get an address on Linder?” Hotch asks.

“It’s coming right now.” I answer.

I look at the fax printout while Hotch hands something to the agent sitting at the desk.

“Does senior management want a field assessment on Gideon?” I ask.

“Don’t worry about it.” Hotch tells me quietly.

“Are they nervous about him being in charge?” I ask Hotch.

“Aren’t you on your way back to Slessman’s house to help Morgan and Chase?” He asks me.

He then turns to walk away but before he can get far I ask…

“Do you know why he always introduces me as Dr. Reid?”

He then comes towards me.

“Because he knows that people see you as a kid, and he wants to make sure that they respect you. What’s the address?” Hotch asks with a sympathetic look on his face.

“Don’t think it matters anymore.” I say showing him the paper which causes him to sigh.

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Elle Greenaway’s POV

Gideon and I went to the prison. We are on the lookout for someone who may know Slessman or Linder.

“Winston Churchill said, “The farther backward you can look, the farther forward you will see.”

Gideon and I walk up to the warden to see if he can give us any information. Just as I get a phone call from Hotch.

“Anyone who can tell us more about Slessman?” Gideon asks.

“Tim Vogel was the security guard covering Slessman’s block. That’s him over there. I’ll get him for you.”the wardens says walking in Vogel’s direction.

“That was Hotch. Linder’s name came up on a police report.” I tell Gideon.

“And?”He asks waiting for me to finish.

“He’s dead--car accident, two months ago.” I finish.

“Linder is dead.” I say to clarify.

We then head down to talk to Vogel.

“Too bad you guys came here for nothing. I mean, talk about scum. I can’t remember how many times I put Linder in solitary for causing trouble with us.” Vogel says while taking out his keys and opening the door.

“You’d think the inmates would try to stay on our good side, right? Especially since half our job is protecting them from each other.” he says in a kind of annoyed tone.

“You protect them?” Gideon asks in a curious tone.

“If you’re a little white guy? Especially in a prison like this.” Vogel says making a point.

“Linder’s 6’4”. You talking about Slessman?” Gideon asks.

“Oh, yeah.” Vogel says nodding.

Gideon and I share a look.

“Thanks for your help.” Gideon says ending the conversation.

“We look at Vogel and notice when he uses his key to unlock and open doors. It took us awhile but we eventually got out of the prison.

“He befriended Richard, protected him, made him feel like he owed him.” Gideon speaks.

“He fits the profile. And did you see them?” I ask.

“The keys.” Gideon answers.

(Time Skip)

We are in the car waiting for Vogel when all of a sudden a red Datsun Z comes out of the parking lot. I take after the car and Gideon gets on the phone to call Hotch. “Hotch, I just found your leverage. His name is Timothy Vogel.”

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Aaron Hotchner’s POV

I enter the observation room or the room on the other side of the one way glass and lower the room’s temperature.

“What’s he doing?” asked the male agent.

“Lowering the temp. The cold puts them on edge.” the female agent responded.

“Okay, so I want SPD, and I want a Seattle agent in the room. I want him to see that we’ve got every department working on this. And I need some file boxes. Fill them. I don’t care if the paper’s blank. And I want you to write the name on the sides.” I command leaving the room but not before I hear the male agent ask…

“Whose name?”

I enter the interview room carrying the fake file box. Other agents follow me inside also carrying file boxes.

“Four months of investigative work, one file, and guess what, Richard. It’s not your file. See, we don’t care about you.” I say pushing the box towards Richard.

He looks at it and reads Vogel’s name. He looks shocked and scared, we got him.

“It’s Vogel we want.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Persephone Chase’s POV

Spencer was finally back from wherever he went and he came to help Derek and I. Spencer and I are currently in Richard’s room looking through the CDs. Spencer is sitting crossed legged and my head is on his left leg. We have been looking through CD cases for hours and I am so bored but it’s my job I don’t have a choice. Spencer picks up a CD fiddles with it as he thinks. Then he gets that cute little look on his face telling me he figured something out. He pats my arm to tell me to move. I pull my head off his leg and he stands up. He begins to head out the door but not before he gives me the “you coming” look, I get up and follow him to wherever he is going. I follow him to the attic where Morgan is pacing and muttering to himself.

“Aw, c’mon. I need a password. I need a password.” he pauses then looks around.

“What could I possibly be looking for?” he asks himself.

Spencer then enters the attic with me following behind. Carrying an open paper clip. Derek sits down then sighs.

“I’ve been thinking about the CDs.” Spencer tells him.

“Oh, Reid,come on. We tried the CDs. We searched,sifted, and sorted through everyone of this guy’s head-banging heavy metal collection. We gotta find something, of this girl is dead.” Derek says in an aggravated tone.

“Derek why don’t you let him explain then judge what ever happens.” I say trying to show that Spencer may have a good idea.

All the while Spencer was getting to work with the paper clip and fiddling with the laptop.

“Think we may have missed the obvious.” Spencer tells us.

“What are you doing?” Derek asks.

Spencer pulls out the CD holder and finds a Metallica CD inside.

“Reid, what made you think of this?” Derek asks in an impressed tone.

“It was the only empty case.” he says showing Derek the case. “All right. I’m an insomniac who listens to Metallica to go to sleep at night. What song could possibly speak to me?” Derek asks us.

“Enter Sandman.” Spencer says getting up and walking over to me.

“I’m proud to call you my best friend Spency.” I say while throwing my arm over his shoulder.

“Me too, Percy.” he smiles.

“Okay, I think you too are cute but come on Spency and Percy?” Derek laughs. I roll my eyes and sit down somewhere away from Derek; Spencer came over.

“How did you come up with Spency?” he asks me. “I’m not really sure. When you were frying your brain figuring out what to do before we came up here I thought of nicknames and liked Spency the best.” I say.

He just smiles at me. But when he smiled I got butterflies in my stomach. I guess my feelings were stronger than I thought because I’ve never felt this way towards any guy I’ve ever dated of course they were all douches but not Spencer.

NEXT CHAPTER

#criminal minds #criminal minds series rewrite #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x OC #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid series #best friends with a genius profiler

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