#retrograde amnesia i think its called

[turbulenthandholding]

Carmy's re-introduction to Claire in Pasta

I was talking to @thoughtfulchaos773 recently about the scene where Carmy re-meets Claire at the grocery store in S2E2. From what I've seen, I think the pervasive interpretation of him not recognizing her at first is that he's lying about it or pretending not to recognize her initially (to avoid her, probably). But I was thinking...what if he doesn't actually recognize her?

In the season 3 trailer, there's a scene (around 1:27) of Claire and Carmy looking at each other. Carmy appears to be wearing the same shirt that he wore during Fishes (also Theodore Fak I think in the background). I wonder if we are going to find out that Claire was there that night, after Donna crashed her car into the house.

There's a condition called Dissociative Amnesia, which is a rare condition where your mind protects you from traumatic experiences, including episodes of violence and abuse, by blocking the memories from being retrieved and actively remembered.

Fishes contains a whole lot of stress and negative experiences for everyone at the dinner, but especially for Carmy. And it culminates in Donna crashing her car into the house. If Claire was there that night and was a witness to the trauma or its aftermath, it makes sense to me that the whole thing could have been upsetting enough to Carmy that his mind would block those memories out, including of Claire's presence, of her in general.

And if Claire was present for this very traumatic thing that happened to Carmy, he disassociated and forgot her, and she pushed herself back into his life by getting his phone number from Fak...that's a lot. (Granted, the trauma was not her fault.) And it seems like a very tall or even impossible order to build a relationship with someone who was there for one of your most traumatic memories, so much so that your brain blocked the memories of that person in a spell of retrograde dissociative amnesia. The trauma would always be there, under the surface of the relationship, especially if it was never addressed with therapy.

[vacantgodling]

CURRENT BETWIXT THUMB AND FOREFINGER (AKA 19TH CENTURY TWILIGHT ADAPTATION THAT CRASHED INTO GOTH LIT SOMEWHERE) RESEARCH AND PLANNING and generally my chaotic thought process lmao.

sponsored by: @sarahlizziewrites & @ink-flavored

tl;dr: all of this is still subject to change bc i'm still planning a lot of this stuff out. however, i want to post what i have so far bc how i plan things is kinda intriguing to me and i wanna talk about something but bc i'm not Writing Prose atm this is all i got.

transposed under the cut but i wanted to showcase what the actual doc looks like :p

WIP NAME ⟶ BETWIXT THUMB AND FOREFINGER

(the hell) betwit thumb and forefinger — the time between solstice and equinox

with the secondary title that almost implies that the story is taking place over a short time period between solstice and equinox — which is a 90 day period, so about 3 months?

idk if i have to keep that in the title, but perhaps the title is a reference to how short a time this is in the grand scheme of things, especially in the life of an immortal creature, but for biscella this is a lifetime. going through every stage of grief and sommemore shit. so i think i’ll call it betwixt thumb and forefinger (BTAF)

some kind of celestial name (twilight/new moon/eclipse/breaking dawn) ⟶ something in this realm to tie back to twilight’s inspo’s somehow but idk if i wanna give that bitch the luxury

dark adaptation — the eyes’s transition to night vision

equinox / solstice

retrograde 

betwixt retrograde and amnesia LMAO

betwixt equinox and solstice

i need to decide what year i want this story to take place in cuz that’s gonna hinge everything.

History of the Netherlands - Wikipedia

peninsular war was 1807-1814. sjaak did not see the end of this conflict as he was turned into a werewolf by a fellow soldier “gust” (why, idk yet).

joined the french army (netherlands and french were allies during this time the batavain-french alliance™) and fought in the battle of zaragoza (1808) ; was injured and near death when he was found by gust a gravewalker. there’s been a rumor going around during the battle that people have seen corpses up and walk away from the battle and their wounds and its because gust (and others) have been turning them into werewolves for some greater purpose. — sjaak becomes one of these when he leaves.

if i assume that for all intents and purposes sjaak is 18 when he finally leaves the netherlands and joins the spanish FRENCH army, then maybe he’s 20 when he’s turned into a werewolf. so… 20 during 1808.

born: 1788 in the netherlands — black mother who was a slave but then brought to the netherlands and subsequently freed. father was the master of the home she worked at.

biscella is younger than sjaak and i want her to be a naive 18 during 1808—perhaps this happens during 1808? but then we would have the war to contend with going on unless it was removed from the battlefield somewhat.

the “cullens” are located in castillo-nuevo in what is now navarre spain and have cleared it out to build a castle there. that lonely castle in the middle of the wilderness is where biscella lies. the crypt is hidden among the mountainous landscape, and even though biscella was there during the funeral, another aspect of everything is eduard appearing to her in dreams/visions/as an apparition keeps her from knowing his location fully by scrambling her mind.

i want sjaak to kill that baby

“you have the face of the woman i love. but the blood of the man i hate flows thorugh you” or something. kills the damn baby and makes biscella’s death worthless in some ways

“she would’ve wanted you to live. she would’ve wanted me to show you the ways of the world and the sun in the trees and the apples that hang low from branches. but i am a monster filled with utter darkness and hate. i will kill what she cherished, and hope that in your death, her memory will haunt me.” or something.

NAMING STRUGGLES ⟶ Spanish naming customs - Wikipedia / Category:Catalan-language surnames - Wikipedia / Names Categorized "Twilight characters" - Behind the Name

possible names for bella (romani, coming from germany into netherlands after being expelled from the country or whatever)

biscella 

mirella ⟶ variant of amaryllis (meaning to sparkle)

sibella ⟶ prophetess (variant of the name sybil)

tsarla ⟶ evening

gisela ⟶ hostage/pledge

biscella schwann

tsarla schwann

gisela schwann

sibella schwann

karl schwann + tsarla schwann >> biscella schwann >> 

surnames for eduard & the cullens™ ⟶ casavantes (the name taken from the patriarch of the family; comas is the 

CHARACTERS

biscella schwann de casavantes (bella) ⟶ follows the standards of the region + is not spanish so she just goes with the flow

karl schwann (charlie father, dead)

tsarla schwann (mother, dead)

sjaak de witte (dutch) (jacob)

luis jofre casavantes basurto (carlisle) ⟶ created via union but killed his parents so he could defect to a “vegetarian” lifestyle (aka hibernation). he forbids the usage of venom to create more of their coven, forbidding the femme vampires from autonomous reproduction essentially.

maritxell comas miranda (esme) ⟶ wife and half-sister of luis; created via union and assisted luis in killing their parents so that they could start their own coven. completely loyal to him and was defanged in an act of loyalty (aka; she can no longer make other vampires stronger as luis removed her fangs, this also keeps her from drinking blood AND solely dependent on him for protection)

i want maritxell to actually have a more prominent role than just like. a sad woe is me matriarch. i want her to be like those women who uphold the patriarchy by being misogynistic towards other women. women like her own daughters (rosita and azelie) need to know their place, and because biscella is romani, she views her as subhuman (and also just as a breeder for eduard’s seed).

i don’t want her to be like romilda in vdtrt who’s more battered wife syndrome. i think maritxell and luis are very very complicit in one another’s bullshit.

rosita casavantes i comas (rosalie) ⟶ first child of the union between luis and maritxell, defanged at birth, rosita desperately wishes to be with child (need to figure out why). she is intensely jealous of biscella despite knowing the woman will die, and torments her now that eduard has been buried in the crypt.

eduard casavantes i comas (edward) ⟶ uses ‘i’ instead of ‘y’ or ‘de’ because he’s specifically from catalina ; created via union of luis and maritxell, and despite being the middle child, is the strongest of the vampire children.

azelie picard (alice) ⟶ luis impregnated a french woman who azelie assumed the name of once she was born. she was the one who met biscella first and despite everything is protective of her. she did not approve of eduard impregnating her (lesbian undertones and may defect and help sjaak, we’ll see). does not want to be defanged.

silvano di luise (jasper) ⟶ youngest child of the coven and born of an italian woman, his surname means ‘son of luis’ (as he is). he is very conflicted on the matter of whether or not they should stay ‘vegetarian’ if they’re still going to kill human (women) anyway by impregnating them with their spawn and thinks that human men should receive the same treatment by being killed for food or made as spawns as well. its caused infighting amongst the coven.

the other question is if i should add other characters. bc i included all the twilight vampires that are Actually Interesting (sorry emmett you’re fucking boring to me) and i’m also only including the werewolves that are interesting to me… which is mostly ig sam, leah, and whats her name. 

WORLDBUILDING AND SHIT

HOW VAMPIRES WORK (biologically)

vampires are made only through human hosts; vampires with penises can impregnate women and the pregnancy will last for 2 years until the woman is fully drained of all her blood and innards, then perish, with the baby bursting out of the womb

vampires without can impregnate men or women via their venom and it will take the form of a parasite forming in their stomach. these vampires tend to be more deadly, though because of the times it is rare to have these kinds of non-producing ‘coven’ leaders. they will do so if their mate is killed, but usually they use their venom to strengthen the other vampires in their coven.

vampires that are created via the union of two vampires in coitus will have a normal “human like” pregnancy, and tend to be the most powerful of all) (ie: eduard)

unlike werewolves vampires cannot be “turned” they can only be born.

HOW WEREWOLVES WORK (turned)

werewolves are the natural enemies to vampires as they were specifically engineered hundreds of years ago to be on par with the nightwalkers’s (vampires) habits.

they cannot be born biologically; once you are turned a werewolf you are infertile.

werewolves are created via consumption of the compound moonstone, which, as its name suggests, is what people of this time assume to be rocks from the actual moon.

whether it is or isn’t is debatable. its not Really important. you eat it and you are now lycanthrope congrats

[drabbles-mc]

Remind Me (14/?)

EZ Reyes x OFC (Aanya Reyes)

Request by @noz4a2: Ez & oc are married 2 years, Ez leaves on a run and while he’s gone oc gets into a bad car accident, she almost dies. Instead she is in a coma for 6 months. During that 6 month time Ez goes everyday or as much as he can, reads to her from her favorite book, etc. After 6 months she finally wakes up, but has retrograde amnesia & doesn’t know who Ez is or their life together. So he is determined to help her get her memory back and goes about wooing her again.

Warnings: 18+, language, angst

Word Count: 5.3k

A/N: I've had a good portion of this chapter written for a long time and I'm so glad it finally gets to see the light of day.

Chapter Index

EZ Reyes/Reminde Me Taglist: @rosieposie0624 @queenbeered @choochoo284 @thesandbeneathmytoes @meadowofsinfulthoughts @mijagif @withmyteeth @kelpies-shed @louisianalady @gemini0410 @chibsytelford @yourwonkywriter @buckybarneshairpullingkink @amorestevens @garbinge @enjoy-the-destruction @bport76 @nessamc @winchestershiresauce @artemiseamoon @littlekittymeow @frattsparty @fanfic-n-tabulous @beardburnsupersoldiers @justazzi @solidly-indulgent @danzer8705 @samcrobae @langiinspirations @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @lightblindingme (If you want to be added to the taglist, please let me know!)

When he walked into the clubhouse, he was torn between getting a drink, and just heading right to Templo before the meeting was even called. Letting out a sigh, he turned and was about to start heading towards the latter when someone let out a short, sharp whistle.

EZ turned around to see Bishop sitting at one of the smaller tables in the clubhouse. They locked eyes for a moment before Bishop waved for him to come over. EZ quickly strode over to the table. He sat down across from the club president, suddenly getting washed over by the feeling that whatever Bishop had to say was important, but it wasn’t a Templo discussion.

“Yea, Bish?” EZ broke the silence, attempting to test the waters.

“It was good seeing Aanya today,” he said with a nod.

EZ had been so caught up in everything that had happened since they left the clubhouse, he hadn’t even thought about the fact that the two of them had seen each other. His eyes widened slightly as it all came rushing back. He nodded. “Yea. She’s doing alright.”

“Alright is good,” Bishop said, “especially given everything.”

He exhaled sharply before agreeing. “Especially given everything.” He paused, waiting for Bishop to start whatever conversation he’d called him over for. When he didn’t, EZ said, “Something you need to tell me, Bishop?”

“You think that you’re still going to be able to do this?”

“Do what?” There was a long second of silence. “The club?” When Bishop just gave a wordless nod, EZ didn’t hesitate to reassure him. “Of course.”

“I know last time we talked,” it was evident that Bishop was working hard to choose his words carefully, “this wasn’t how you were expecting things to go. With your girl, I mean.” He saw the conflicted expression on EZ’s face and sighed. “No one would blame you if—”

“I’m not backing out of the fucking club,” his voice was quiet, but angry in its firmness.

Bishop didn’t take the bait, keeping his tone even. “You know I gotta ask.”

“No, you don’t.” EZ shook his head. “I can handle it, Bish. I’ve been fucking handling it.”

“And we’ve been using the fucking kid gloves when we’re dealing with you,” he shot back. He saw how it put EZ back on his heels. “Shit is still moving. We still have business to work. If your priorities need to be elsewhere, then fine. But I need every man on fucking deck, and I need to know if you can handle that.”

For a few seconds, EZ was looking everywhere except for at his club’s president. When his eyes finally landed on him again, he said, “Why are you doing this right now?”

Bishop leaned back in his chair with a sigh. “It was good seeing her today. It was. But if I was in your position,” he exhaled sharply, shaking his head, “I don’t know if I would be able to do that and this.” He stopped for a moment before elaborating. “And actually be able to do both well.”

“I’m not you,” EZ said, jaw clenched tight as he tried to keep his feelings from exploding out of him.

“I know,” Bishop conceded. “Which is why I’m even more fuckin’ worried.”

“You don’t know—”

“I know that you’re all she’s got here,” Bishop cut him off.

“So I’m expendable from the club?”

Bishop fought the urge to roll his eyes. “That’s not what I said.” He dragged his hand down over his chin as he thought through his next sentence. “Guys like us, we usually don’t even get lucky once. And that’s…there’s no other way someone like Aanya ended up with someone like you. That was luck. Fuckin’, divine intervention if you ask me.” He paused. “Don’t be so arrogant that you think you’re gonna get that lucky twice. She needs you. You…you need her.”

He saw the look on EZ’s face and knew he was about to fire back with another angry comment, so he held his hand up to silence him. “I’m not gonna go around with you on this all fuckin’ day.” He stood up, pushing his chair back in the process. “We got shit to handle.” He started to make his way towards the back room, barking out, “Let’s go!” to the rest of the guys as he went.

It took EZ a few seconds to be able to get himself up and out of his chair. Despite his initial anger, he knew that Bishop was just looking out for him. More than that, Bishop was looking out for Aanya. It was a good thing of him, acknowledging the fact that there was something in EZ’s life outside the club that might demand more of his time and attention. That wasn’t a courtesy he was known to extend to his men, and with good reason—he didn’t run a successful charter by letting everyone put the club low on their priority lists.

But the conversation brought EZ’s mind back to things that he hadn’t allowed himself to think about for a while. Because Bishop was right: this wasn’t how EZ had pictured things being when Aanya came out of her coma. And luck wasn’t anywhere near a strong enough force to credit for EZ ending up with Aanya in the first place, but it was the closest thing he could think of. He knew that. He knew Bishop was right about that too. He just didn’t want to think about it, because if he did, he was going to have to come to grips with the fact that he might not get lucky a second time around. There was always the lingering possibility that she wasn’t going to fall in love with him again. He had tried not to dwell on it too much because of everything else that she was dealing with, but the selfish part of him couldn’t push it from his brain.

In light of all that, he’d been so wrapped up in her being back and not having her memories that he hadn’t really thought much about the club at all. He showed up for Templo, did his shifts at the yard, but he hadn’t had the mental space to think about the business side of it all, the side that paid all their fucking bills. Truthfully, he didn’t know what was going to happen when he got taken off the reserves bench. When Bishop needed him to start going to late or out of town meetings and on runs again. Leaving Aanya to her own devices for a few days or a week before all of this had happened was one thing. But it would feel cruel to leave her now. Now that Bishop had put the idea in his head point-blank, he wasn’t sure if he would be able to do it.

“Yo!” Angel called to his brother from the Templo doorway, “You comin’ or what, boy scout?”

EZ nodded, finally forcing himself to focus on the present and get out of his chair. “Comin’.”

Aanya unlocked the front door of their house, stepping inside and being confronted with silence. She softly closed the door behind her as she slipped out of her shoes. She made her way through the house to the living, room, flipping on the lights as she went. She felt a little silly turning on a few extra lights, but it made the house seem less empty.

She set her book on the coffee table and went over to the record player that was perched on the bookshelf. She smiled as she walked her fingers along the vinyls that she had, trying to decide which one she was going to play first. Once she chose, the house was immediately filled with the sound of an acoustic guitar being strummed as the record began to spin. Aanya smiled to herself as she adjusted the volume before going and plopping herself down on the couch to get comfortable and try to get some reading done.

She pulled her legs up onto the couch as she leaned onto the arm of it. Reaching forward, she easily wrapped her fingers around the book on the coffee table, lifting it and placing it in her lap. She dragged her fingertips down the cover of it, rereading the title and mentally preparing to dive in.

She cracked open the cover, ready for whatever journey the book was about to take her on. But before she even got to read the first sentence written in the novel, she was hit with a punch of emotion that knocked the wind right out of her. Looking in the margins of the first page, she saw handwriting that she immediately recognized as her own.

She swiped the pad of her pointer finger over the tiny letters scribbled on the side of the page. She knew the writing was hers. Upon reading it, it sounded like something that she would write. But she didn’t remember writing it. She didn’t remember reading the book at all. No wonder it had ended up in the Previously Loved section of the bookstore—she put it there.

She let out a shaky breath as she contemplated shutting the book and setting it down. She anxiously pulled her teeth along her bottom lip as she tried to figure out if she was emotionally prepared to forge ahead. It felt like a cruel scavenger hunt that she hadn’t agreed to go on, finding little pieces of this woman that she apparently was now that she had no recollection of.

Tears stung her eyes, causing her to try and blink them away. After a few controlled breaths, she decided that it was at least worth a shot. Maybe it would help her remember something. Maybe there was a reason that this was the book that she decided to take home with her once again.

She read the book, and her notes in the margins. She read them like she was reading ones left behind by a stranger, because essentially, that’s exactly what they were. Aside from the initial jarring sensation of the reality of it, it wasn’t as strange as she thought that it was going to be. She picked a pen with a different color ink to make new notations in. There were a few things that caught her eye that apparently hadn’t the first time around, which was interesting. She tried to frame it like that: interesting. She hoped it would make it more bearable.

She had no concept of time as it flew by. She had enough lights on in the house to offset how it was getting darker outside so it didn’t even make it onto her radar. She hadn’t even noticed the fact that the music stopped when the record reached its end. In the course of reading, she had flipped completely around on the couch, draping her legs over the arm of it while her back laid flat against the cushions. She had the book propped on her chest, her pen perched nimbly between her fingers in such a way that it wouldn’t interfere with her turning the pages.

The only thing that brought her back to reality, that let her know how much time had gone by, was the sound of the door opening and EZ’s boots clunking against the floor. Her eyes widened as she sat as upright as she could manage, propping herself on her elbows. Her book was still open to the same page, laying face-down on her stomach.

“Ezekiel?” she called out, although she was fairly certain it was him.

“Yea?” he called back.

“Are you…home early?” she half-laughed as she asked. She already had an inkling as to what the answer was.

He laughed as he walked into the living room, his footsteps much quieter now that he was just down to his socks. He must’ve left his kutte behind in the kitchen as well, because all he had on was his t-shirt. One look at her sprawled out on the couch and he knew exactly what had happened.

He walked over, hands resting on the back of the couch so he could lean and brace himself against it. If it had been about seven months before, he would’ve leaned down to kiss her. As it stood, he simply just gazed at her and shook his head. “I’m not home early, no.” He watched as Aanya dropped back flat against the couch cushions again, and the smile on his face grew. All the stress from the club was momentarily pushed from his mind. “You haven’t eaten yet, have you?”

“No,” she said with a shake of her head. “But!” She held up the opened book that had been resting on her stomach with a smile and said, “I made some good headway on this.”

His smile softened a bit, shrank to be a little smaller. “Is it good?”

She nodded. “It is, yea.” She paused, looking at the expression on his face. “There are some upsides to being able to experience things for the first time again, I guess.”

He let out a breath, some of the tension disappearing from his shoulders knowing that she knew. “I was going to—”

“It’s okay,” she said earnestly as she slipped her bookmark between the pages and set the book aside on the coffee table again. She swung her legs so that her feet were on the floor, forcing her to sit upright and turn to face him. Pushing her hair back out of her face, she said, “It was a little weird, seeing my handwriting in a book that I haven’t read.” She paused. “I mean, I’ve read it, but…”

“I get it,” EZ said with a nod.

The two of them lingered in silence for a moment before she asked, “Did you eat?”

He shook his head. “No, didn’t get a chance to. Shit with the club was…” he sighed, not really wanting to get into it with her. He changed tracks. “I didn’t have time.”

“I don’t want to cook,” she said honestly. “And judging by the look on your face you don’t want to either.” She saw the way he laughed quietly as he nodded in agreement. “I know for a fact there are three different kinds of cereal sitting on top of the fridge.”

“Cereal?” He laughed as the word came out like a question.

“You don’t seem like you eat it for breakfast,” she countered, “so we might as well eat it for dinner.”

He smiled as he nodded. “That’s fair.”

He watched as she hoisted herself up off the couch and made her way towards the kitchen. She moved through the house with so much more certainty than she had before, and it hadn’t even been that long. It put him a little bit more at ease. Maybe the more comfortable she got, the easier it would be for her memories to come back. He could hope, at least.

He followed her into the kitchen, and he couldn’t help but to laugh softly as he asked, “You gonna climb up onto the fridge to get it?”

“Was hoping you would help me out with that one.”

He chuckled, slipping past her with ease as she grabbed bowls from the cupboard for them. “I got it.”

When they both walked back into the living room, cereal bowls in hand, for a second EZ almost felt like things were how they used to be. Aanya plopped herself down on the couch, pulling her legs up so that she was sitting crisscross, all without spilling anything over the edges of her bowl. EZ sat on the other end of the couch from her, each of them leaning against the arm of the couch closest to them. Aanya already had a bite of cereal tucked into her cheek when she asked EZ to pick something to put on the TV. It took him a moment to really process what it was that she had said because his brain was so busy replaying every other moment that somewhat mirrored that.

“EZ?”

He shook his head a little to try and get his thoughts back into order. “Right. Sorry.”

“Want me to pick?” she asked as she gestured towards the remote with her spoon.

“I got it,” he said with a half-laugh, trying to smother his emotions with the sound.

They were a few episodes deep into nothing serious. With the way that things had been going, EZ figured a mindless sitcom was about the speed that both he and Aanya could handle. He thought that maybe she would tap out of it, that when she finished her breakfast for dinner she would dive right back into her book. But she didn’t. She set her empty bowl on the table, keeping the spoon and twirling it between her fingers as she watched the show. Every now and then EZ realized that he missed an entire chunk of the show because he was too busy looking down at the other end of the couch where Aanya was sitting and chuckling quietly over what they were watching.

When she had been quiet for a while, EZ looked back down towards her again. She hadn’t fallen asleep yet, but he could tell that she was getting closer and closer to it as the minutes ticked by. She was sinking a little heavier against the arm of the couch, spoon discarded and hands stilled. Her eyes were getting heavy but there was still a drowsy smile on her face.

“Aanya?” he spoke up, a little quieter than he intended.

She looked a little more alert at the sound of his voice. “Yea?”

He nodded towards the stairs. “If you’re tired, you can head to bed. You’ve had a long day.”

“Most of it was spent on the couch reading,” she argued softly as she tried to bite back a yawn.

EZ chuckled as he watched her try to fight off the tiredness. “It was an emotionally long day.”

She had no choice but to concede to that. “A little, yea.”

He leaned forward and braced his arms against his thighs. He nodded towards the stairs again. “Go ahead. I’ll throw these in the dishwasher and shut off the lights.”

“You sure?” she asked as she slowly rose up off the couch.

He nodded. “Positive. Go get some rest.”

“Thank you.” She strolled by him, resting her hand on his shoulder for a moment in a soft gesture of thanks. “Goodnight, EZ.”

“Goodnight.”

He had both their sets of dishes in his hands as she watched her disappear up the stairs. Her footsteps were slow, quiet. EZ found himself smiling even though he was also feeling the exhaustion of the day. He took his time rinsing the dishes before putting them into the dishwasher. He meandered through the house, shutting off all the lights and the television as he went. When he reached the top of the staircase, he shut off the one light that illuminated them and finally cast the entire downstairs into darkness.

He walked down the hall, and when he reached the door to their previously shared bedroom, he saw that it was closed. He contemplated knocking, wanting to say an extra goodnight, but he stopped himself. His hand was raised, ready to rap his knuckles against the wood, but he didn’t. Letting out a quiet sigh, he softly rested his fingertips against the expanse of the door for a moment before prying himself away and continuing the walk down the hall to the guest room. He lingered in his own doorway for a moment, looking back at the shut door down the hall before finally flipping the switch and making that hallway dark as well.

He closed the guest room door but not all the way, leaving it cracked. He never really thought much about whether or not to shut the door all the way until Aanya came back from the hospital. Before that, it was the default that the door was always closed. But he didn’t want to close it now and end up inadvertently shutting her out.

He peeled his shirt off and tossed it onto the dresser. Running his hands down his face, he collapsed back onto the bed. His legs were still half hanging off the mattress when his eyes started getting heavy. He didn’t even want to take the effort to pull himself fully onto the bed. So, he didn’t, allowing his eyes to finally shut.

EZ woke to the sound of screaming. He leapt off the bed, body operating on what felt like autopilot, grabbing his baseball bat as he ran out of his room and into hers, ready to swing. He stormed in but was met with an empty room, save for Aanya sitting on the bed, sobbing into her hands. His arms drop back to his side, letting the bat tap lightly against the ground as he lowered it.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered between sobs. “It was just a bad dream. You, you can go back to bed. I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to scare you.”

He leaned the bat against the door and turned on the light before he walked over. He sat on the edge of the bed. “You don’t have to apologize. Anything I can get you?” He saw the fear in her eyes and all he wanted to do was hold her.

“I don’t know,” her voice wavered as she spoke.

“You want a hug?” he offered.

She nodded but didn’t say anything. He shifted farther onto the bed and pulled her into him so that she was leaning against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and took a deep breath, fighting the urge to kiss her. She trembled in his arms as the tears continued to flow. He gently rubbed her back, wishing that there was more that he could do to help her. The warmth from his chest radiated against her cheek. It almost felt like it was coursing through her entire body. It didn’t fix everything, but the warmth, the comfort, it certainly didn’t hurt.

They sat like that for a few minutes until she calmed down. She pulled away from him slightly, wiping the tears from her face as well as his chest. She was halfway through apologizing for crying all over him when she realized what he was wearing.

“Did you…do you wear jeans to bed?” She sniffled, a hint of a smile on her face despite the tears still welling in her eyes.

EZ laughed. “Uh…yea…sometimes,”

“How is that comfortable?” She chuckled, wiping at the last of the tears on her face.

He shrugged, just glad to see her smiling. “It’s just a habit, I guess. You, uh, you were never a fan.” A small smile passed over his face for a moment. “You’re responsible for me even owning a pair of pajama pants.”

She laughed. “I see they’re doing you a lot of good.”

“Old habits die hard.”

The smile on her face was a tired one, but genuine nonetheless. “I guess so.”

He rested his hand on her shoulder. “Do you wanna talk about it?”                         

“You know,” she shook her head, “I don’t, I don’t really remember being in the accident. Not here.” She pointed to her forehead. “But things like this makes me feel like I do. Times like this, or even sometimes when my mind just…drifts. I don’t know if it’s something my brain is just making up, or if it’s a real memory it’s trying to work through. Something from here.” She gestured to the back of her head for a moment before letting out an exhausted laugh. “Not that that’s really how the brain stores memories.”

EZ shot her a smile, shaking his head. “Nah, front-to-back memory storage sounds right. That’s definitely what they teach in medical school.”

“And you’d know what they teach in medical school?” She said it as a joke, not realizing how close to the truth she was skirting.

He let out a short, dry chuckle, trying not to think about all of that on top of everything else that was happening in the moment. They could only piece apart one tragedy a night and Aanya was a much more sympathetic victim as far as he was concerned.

“A little, yea.”

She looked over at him, confused. “How?”

It felt silly, to sit there and talk about his incredibly short stint in college while she was battling and trying to figure out what was a nightmare and what was a memory. But if a distraction was going to help her keep it together, he wasn’t going to take that from her.

“I, uh,” he looked over at her for a moment, “I was pre-med for a little bit.”

“You were? What,” she sniffled, “what happened?”

He exhaled, the breath pushing past his lips after exerting more effort than it should’ve taken just to breathe. “It’s complicated. Long story short, I did not become a doctor.” He punctuated his sentence with a soft chuckle, one that felt more genuine than the first.

It got Aanya to laugh a little. Her heart was still speeding inside her chest, her mind still reeling, but there was still a tiny shred of ease to be found in the midst of it all. Even if he didn’t say it, even if she didn’t ask, she knew that there was much more going on with EZ than she could try to fathom. And things with her were what they were. She couldn’t articulate it, but it felt like there was something to be said about that, about the fact that they were there together still, in whatever capacity they were.

She dropped her head against his shoulder with a heavy sigh. There were a few moments of silence. It was just Aanya focusing on the rise and fall of EZ’s torso as he breathed. Her eyes drifted shut for a moment, not that she was going to be falling back to sleep anytime soon. His skin was warm against her cheek, and part of her was aware of the fact that maybe it was too much, too familiar, but she was too drained and exhausted to care. With the way that it all was, she wasn’t going to be turning away anything that made her feel just a shred more normal, no matter how fleeting the feeling was.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, eyes still closed.

He reached and rested his hand on her leg, the callouses on his palms not feeling as harsh against her soft skin as she thought they would. He waited for her to flinch, to pull away, but she didn’t. He eased into it, allowing his head to rest against hers for a moment.

He kept his voice at a whisper too. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

She hummed softly. “I woke you up.”

He chuckled. “I’ll be alright.” He paused. “I’m sorry.” He turned his head slightly and was centimeters away from pressing his lips to the side of her head when he managed to rein it in. Instead he just rested his forehead against the side of her head. “If I could fix it—”

“You would,” she finished the sentence for him. “I know.”

“Do you need anything?” he asked as he fought to keep his composure.

She shook her head as she peeled herself off of his shoulder. “I’m okay.” She paused for a moment before correcting herself. “I’ll be okay.”

It physically pained him to peel his hand off of her thigh, but he managed it. Aanya was wiping the lingering tears off of her face as he discreetly reached up to brush them from his shoulder. He knew that he should get up and head back down the hall to his room, but he couldn’t quite force himself to stand up.

“What’re you thinking, Ezekiel?” she asked, tiredness thick in her voice now that her emotions were starting to level out again.

He looked over at her and shook his head. “I’m not.” He paused. “How often…has this been happening every night?”

“No,” her reply had no hesitation. “Not every night. Only a couple times.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he made sure to keep his voice soft.

“There’s nothing we can do about it, right? It’s just,” she gave a helpless shrug, “just a bad dream.”

EZ frowned, knowing that she wasn’t wrong. His nightmares were all memories, but he knew better than anyone that there wasn’t anything to be done about them once you were having them. By then, it was already too late.

“Right.” He rested his hands on his knees. “If it happens again, I’m…I’m right down the hall.”

Her smile was tired, weak, but genuine. “Yes, you and your baseball bat.”

He chuckled. “If someone had been breaking in, it would’ve been useful.”

“And you would’ve gotten a homerun?” she asked with a soft laugh.

“Yea,” he nodded, “something like that.”

He finally stood up and took a step towards the door. He grabbed the bat as he went, keeping a loose grip on it. Looking back over his shoulder, he offered one more goodnight to Aanya. She answered in kind, her voice making it sound like she was already halfway to falling back to sleep. He lingered in the doorway for a moment as she crawled back beneath her covers. Once her head hit the pillow, he shut the door behind him and made his way down the hall.

When he stepped back into the guest room, he walked over and rolled the baseball bat back beneath the bed where it had been a little while before. He was about to lay down, attempt to tuck himself in and go back to sleep, but he stopped himself. With a deep sigh, he walked over and pulled open one of the dresser drawers. He dug around in it for a moment before his hand landed on one of the pairs of pajama pants that Aanya had gotten for him over the years.

He pulled them out and slid the drawer shut. When he walked back over to the bed, he undid the button and zipper on his jeans, pushing them down so the denim pooled around his ankles. Stepping out of them, he unfurled the pants in his hand and stepped into them. He let out an exhausted chuckle when they were situated on his hips.

They were more comfortable. They always were. He knew that, too, even before he had Aanya kindly forcing him to wear them to bed instead of his jeans. He got into bed, laying on top of his blankets still as he looked up at the ceiling. At least this time his head was rested on his pillows. He toyed idly with the drawstring on his pants as the memory of getting them flashed through his mind. Aanya had the same pair in shorts form. That was what she always did at first. It was how she convinced him to wear them, because she knew that he was too soft to say no to something for the both of them.

And it worked. It worked like a fucking charm every single time. Even when he was still living in his trailer there were countless nights that were just the two of them laying on the crappy little sofa-turned-mattress in matching pajamas, each of them with their nose buried in a book. It felt strange at the time, but it felt good, too. It was all so simple back then.

Letting out a heavy sigh, EZ forced himself to get underneath the covers, to let himself have that small bit of comfort in the middle of everything else. Putting one hand behind his head, he let his eyes close, knowing that even if he wasn’t going to fall back to sleep at this point, it was better than nothing.

[aidanstar96]

A lot of people on the spectrum has a fictional character that they like to headcanon as being Autistic. Even if the creators of the characters in question may or may not have ever have intended for it to be the case, the evidence is so obvious that the character in question could be Autistic-coded. For myself, the character that I think could be a on the spectrum is named Tari.

For those who are unfamiliar with Tari, let me give some background information. Originally appearing in the Super Mario-based parody series on YouTube, SMG4, before later gaining her own show, Tari is a female gamer with blue hair, and a Blue Jay bird inspired hoodie that just so happens to have a mechanical left-hand that she uses to enhance her gaming skills. She is often displayed as being innocent and insecure about herself in addition to having some ADHD-like qualities like hyperfixating on interests like video games, rubber ducks, and cats. She is also known for apologizing a lot as well as being very polite and accident-prone. To those on the spectrum, some of these qualities of her might be reflective onto what they would experience themselves. I, for example, am known to hyperfixate on certain topics like the Mario series and Tari herself. I am also known for apologizing a lot even if I didn't have to do it.

Finally, for those who are curious about Tari's own show, Meta Runner, it is an action sci-fi, comedy-drama series that aired its episodes on the Glitch channel on YouTube. The show takes place in the 22nd century in a futuristic metropolis called Silica City where video games and e-sports have become a big part of the entertainment and lifestyle among the citizens. A group of them, called Meta Runners, would replace their limbs with cybernetic arms to enhance their gaming skills. One Meta Runner with retrograde amnesia named Tari, wakes up in a lab and discovers that she is able to warp into the video games that she plays. While she is trying to discover who she really is, she has to team up with a undercover group called MD-5 to expose a corrupted company called TASCorp.

If you read through all of this, I would like to say thank you for taking your time on this. If you have any comments on the character, her possible connections to Autism, and either SMG4 and/or Meta Runner in question, I will be able to repsond to those below! My goal that I want to achieve is to make a thread about the case about how Tari could be on the spectrum and show it to as much people who are interested as possible.

[archer3-13]

I've seen the argument float around a bit, mostly from edelstans but ive seen it crop up elsewhere, that people who dont like edelgard have been saying edelgard deserves what happens in AG in becoming a mental child.

Now, i have not seen any such argument actually be seriously made in that regard. If someone could link to anything that supports the above claim id be happy to see it, but in terms of areas of 'traffic' where you would expect to see such an assertion made again

i have not seen anything that remotely falls into that line of thinking

which brings me to a more general statement i feel is important to make, and its that what happens to edelgard in AG is indeed intellectually unsettling in its implications in many ways. However, its also not something I, and indeed some others, can feel particularly sympathetic towards edelgard on outside of the intellectual implications of it. That is because the narrative of hopes does not treat what happens to edelgard with the gravitas such a concept would require to work and actually be emotionally unsettling with, instead it is used as a mechanical narrative device in hopes story to expediate edelgard from narrative consequences of her actions by removing responsibility from her person.

in other words, its not that edelgard deserves to become a mental child. the issue is that edelgard should be facing actual narrative consequences for her actions, but instead she is being removed from them through someones infantilization kink.

[honeybeedewdrops]

Amnesia | J.Seresin

Summary: You have an accident during a mission that leaves you with some memory loss.

Warnings: None. I don't think at least.

______________________________________________________________

It had all happened so fast one minute you were all in the clear and then the enemy plane was coming straight for you. You had managed to kill them but they had got a hit on you and now your right engine was on fire. "Shit, Shit" you curse trying to extinguish the fire but it wasn't working.

"Y/CS you have to eject where out of enemy territory so it will be easier to find you" Maverick says but you weren't having it you were not going to eject. "No I got this I can extinguish the fire" you shout "Y/N JUST EJECT PLEASE BABY" You hear Hangman called. You decided to listen to Hangman and ejected but you were too low the minute you hit the ground you were out cold.

**

You woke up to beeping and your head pounding making you groan. As you open your eyes you are blinded by the light "Y/N thank god your ok I thought I lost you" says an unfamiliar voice and they hug you making you hiss out in pain. "i'm sorry, i'm sorry are you ok?" you look up and see very green but very unfamiliar eyes. "um... yeah i'm ok" before you could speak again the door opens. You watch Maverick and women came in. Making you very confused who was she and who was this man holding your hand. "Y/CS your ok gave us quite the scare I don't know what I would do if you left me alone with these nimrods" "hey kid how are you doing?" Maverick asks "good Maverick but uh who are you two?" you ask pointing to the women and man.

"haha very funny Y/CS you got me" The women chuckles "no i'm serious who are you" and you pull your hand way from the man. "Y/N its me Hangman your boyfriend" you shake your head "I'm sorry I don't know you" they all glanced at each other. "uh i'll get the doctor" Maverick says leaving. A minute later the doctor comes in "ah Miss Y/LN how are you feeling" "everything hurts" you moan.

"yeah you took a pretty dangerous fall now I heard you are having some memory problems" "Uh maybe I just don't know these two" "Ok well i'm going to ask you some questions" you nod "can you tell me your full name?" "Y/N Y/MN Y/LN" "good now what do you do for living?" "I am a Naval fighter Pilot" "Ok now do you remember much from before you crashed?" "uh not really just ejecting and then it all went black" he nods and writes it down "well Y/N you have some holes in your memory. We call it retrograde amnesia." "so what you're saying is I do know these people I just don't remember them" "yes that is correct" you nod trying to take it all in.

"what can we do Doc" "well best you tell her who you are and just simple these you did together it could maybe jog her memory." "will she ever get her memory back?" Hangman asks "it's hard to tell she might she might not now i'll check back in a few" and the doctor leaves.

"well Y/N i'm Phoenix also Natasha. We've been best friends since the academy we were bunk mates." You nod "we used to bug hangman over here all the time till you two started dating" your head started to hurt more but you wanted to hear more. "Uh we used to share a house man the trouble we'd get into all hours of the night we even got a noise complaint" she says voice faltering. I could tell she was trying not to cry they all were. "Do you remember that?" you shake your head. "no i'm sorry" "No need to apologise" she says.

"she's your wing women the best i've seen fly together" Maverick says trying to help. You smile before looking down at your hands. "A-and you" you say turning to Hangman "i'm your boyfriend we've been dating for two years. Hangman or Jakey as you call me" You frown how could you not remember. "We met on our first mission together you yelled at me after I left you hanging" He chuckles. You don't speak.

"Y/N--" He says "Um can I be alone for a minute" they all give you sympathetic looks before leaving.

You close your eyes how could this happen.

______________________________________________________________

A/N: Part Two?

[irondadfics]

hey! so i’m looking for this fic, and i can’t seem to find it, its where Tony got amnesia and couldn’t remember anything but he saw Peter and thought he was his son, so he spends the next few days thinking Peter is his son. I remember Peter took him down to his workshop to look at all the Iron Man suits and Peter called the suits Tony’s babies and Tony responded with “you’re my baby. these are awesome”. It was just fluff with a bit of angst and it made my heart happy. if you can’t find it that’s ok but thank you!!!

Retrograde by madasthesea

Prompt: what about the remember me one? seen a lot of fics with peter getting amnesia but never one of tony forgetting anything? could be a nice switch to see how peter would deal with that + tony trying to figure out how he went from a wild playboy to a supposed superhero with a teenager. Tony gets amnesia. When Peter comes to visit him in the hospital, Tony takes one look at him and immediately assumes that Peter's his son.

[gale-gentlepenguin]

ML What if Part 4a

(Previous part)

(What if Luka Learned the Truth in Truth?)

This is Option A is the last one to make so lets get to it

(A. Marinette renounces her guardian status to Chat noir.)

_____________________________________________________________

-“I am glad I got to tell you before I forget.” Marinette spoke softly.

-She kisses him.

-“Good bye, My kitty.”

-Marinette prepared to renounce her Guardianship. Until Adrien covered her lips.

-“NO!"

-She renounced her guardianship, and bequeathed the role of guardian to chat noir. The box changed to look more like Chat noir. With a Paw print shaped box, adorned in black and Green.

-Marinette fell to the ground. Tikki felt her eyes well up.

-Chat noir took a second, processing everything that happened.

-Tikki could see the expression on Chat noir's face.

-"This ends tonight Shadowmoth." He hissed angrily.

_____________________________________________________________

-Shadowmoth dispatched of the police rather quickly. He knew Ladybug and Chat noir wouldn’t be far. He knows where she lives. He knows her family, her friends. He could easily make em squeal if they tried hiding.

-An idea hits Shadowmoth. He could track her.

-Shadowmoth creates a powerful sentimonster. (like Mayura did). He made a Dog creature (similar to Feast) But instead of the guardian symbol. It had his symbol and it was a Fierce Purple. And he had wings.

-“Pursuit. I am giving you the power to track down and capture anyone that I tell you too.”

-Pursuit took a sniff of the room. Getting Ladybug/Marinette’s smell. And it flies off to capture her. Shadowmoth followed.

_____________________________________________________________

-The beast had located Marinette and they arrived on the rooftop. She was unconscious. Her earrings and the miraculous box gone.

-"No! I was so close!" Shadowmoth roared

-"Don't worry hawkmoth, both the Ladybug and Cat miraculous are still here." a voice called from the shadows.

-Shadowmoth's mouth twisted into a grin.

-"So you're still here chat noir. Here I thought you turned tail and ran."

-"No, I am ending this tonight."

-Shadowmoth laughed

-"I agree, this all ends tonight. Pursuit! Take him down!"

-The purple sentimonster charged in the direction of chat noir's voice.

-From the shadow, a hand caught the sentimonster, and the beast disintegrated.

-The amok from the object flew out and disintegrated as well.

-"What? How is that possible! Your cataclysm isn't that powerful!?"

-"You were wrong before. Im not Chat noir anymore."

-He walked out of the shadows. His eyes glowing, and his suit was a royal purple (akin to the descriptions of the merging of the ladybug and chat noir miraculous)

-"I am so much more than that." No smile, no rage. Just an emotionless look from glowing gold eyes.

-Shadowmoth felt a shiver go down his spine. But he shook it off.

-"You think unifying both miraculous will be enough to best me? You have no idea how to utilize its true potential."

-The former cat raised his hands.

-"I think its time to end this."

-His hand glowing gold.

-"I wish..."

-Shadowmoth charged at the teen, only to suddenly change back into Gabriel Agreste.

-"What!? WHAT HAPPENED?!" His miraculous now in their Dormant form.

-"Nooru!! Duusu! Transform me!"

-The blond hero looked at Gabriel with contempt.

-"So... it was you that was behind all of this." His expression not changing. "I am surprised by how not surprised I am."

-"WHAT DID YOU DO YOU LITTLE."

-"I erased your ability to use the miraculous. You will never be able to use any miraculous for the rest of your days."

-Gabriel fell to his knees.

-"Please... no. Not this! anything but this. I need that power. I..."

-"You need to get your life together. Be grateful that is all I took from you. You still have your health, your wealth, and your son. Amend your ways Gabriel. This is your only warning."

-Gabriel looked at his hands.

-"I can't bring back my wife... everything I sacrificed...."

-Gabriel snapped. He charged at the hero.

-"You will pay for this!"

-"Goodbye... Father."

-The former super villain felt his eyes go wide.

-"Adrien?"

-Gabriel ceased to exist. The peacock and Butterfly miraculous fell to the ground.

-The new guardian picked up the miraculous. and put them in the box. It was finally over.

-"Plagg, claws in. Tikki, spots off."

-Adrien returned to normal. He fell on the floor. And he wept. He had never felt so alone.

_____________________________________________________________

-Weeks had past.

-Marinette had some adjusting to do. The doctors said she had Retrograde amnesia. She couldn't remember anything. But that was okay, she had her parents and her friends to help her adjust.

-"Marinette, Luka's here!" Sabine called to her daughter.

-"Coming mom." She said with a smile. Marinette rushed down the stairs to greet her boyfriend. They were going to go ice skating. She was excited.

-Luka walked out with her. He looked up to see a cat watching on the roof nearby.

-Luka was updated on what happened that night. He knew marinette remembered nothing. Chat noir told him what happened. And he gave him an order.

-"Make sure she lives a happy life."

-Luka swore to Chat noir that he would. Marinette did deserve at least that much.

-He kept walking but noticed Marinette had stopped.

-"Hey Luka, who's that up there?"

-"Thats chat noir, he's the protector of Paris."

-Marinette looked closer at the hero on the perch. who was trying not to look at her.

-"He looks really sad."

-"He recently lost his lady." Luka answered. "I don't blame him."

-Luka started walking but noticed Marinette wasn't moving."

-"Are you okay Marinette."

-"I feel like I know him... like he is someone... really important to me."

-"He is the hero of Paris, so that isn't surprising."

-Marinette felt her heart pounding and tears flowed from her eyes. She quickly rubbed them off.

-"I feel like I love him..." Marinette mumbled

-"Did you say something marinette?" Luka asked, pretending he didnt hear.

-"I said lets go. Lets go. No need to keep watching."

-Luka watched as Marinette rushed in front of him.

-"She may have forgotten you, but her heart still remembers you."

-Luka walked after her.

-Chat noir watched the two leave.

-He took a deep breath.

-"I guess there is no trouble here now."

-Chat noir turned around to see a man in monk robes and fierce bushy brows.

-"So your the one with the miracle box now."

_________________________________________________________

So ends part 4a

[drmmyrs]

Remember Me (Becca x MC)

So, weird story. I was randomly browsing tumblr one time when this ask pops out at the top of the screen (req about amnesia au Becca’s POV). It wasn’t even related to anything I was reading but checked my inbox and it wasn’t there. Most probably the ask isn’t for me but still wrote it just in case 😅

PS if someone DID send me this ask, kindly drop me a message just so I know I’m not seeing things 😭

PPS I’m trying out a new writing style and I’m not sure if it’s any good so I’d really appreciate any feedback 🥺 (this will be a mini series too, I think, since the angst potential is definitely there 😂)

PPPS title is inspired from the song in Coco just cause I’ve been playing it a lot on piano recently

tag list: @whackawriting @samanthadalton @crazzyplays @uselesslesbianfr @baexpoppy @alexroyard @alexlabhont @veenast @noixngn @sillyandcutewizardstuffs (If you wanna be added or removed or just prefer a certain ship just let me know ❤️)

Pairing: Becca x MC (Emily)

Word Count: 2090

I don't remember what happened, nor know where I am, but I hear shouting, lots of it. I try to move, but my body feels completely numb; the only thing I can feel is the trickle of liquid that splatters across my face. Rain? I open my eyes strenuously, but all I can see past my blurry vision are brown eyes glistening with tears. I can't quite make out her face, but for some reason, seeing her cry sends a flurry of emotions that hurt more than my throbbing head. I try to open my mouth, hoping to provide comfort somehow, but no words come out. She is saying something over and over again, something about leaving? But my head hurts too much to be able to comprehend. A siren then blares from a distance, growing louder by the second as flashes of red cloud my vision. And that is when everything turns black.

I slowly open my eyes–still reeling from the nightmare that somehow felt too real–and harsh, blinding lights immediately greet me. I hastily shut my eyes back and suddenly become well aware of the ache engulfing my entire body. It isn't before long that I realize that someone is holding my hand, tracing lazy circles against my skin ever so often. I try to move it but only manage to lift a finger, and at once, the grip tightens and becomes still for a moment before I hear a voice– How can a voice sound so familiar... yet so strange? It's saying my name, urgent and gentle at the same time as though I might break at any second. I try to open my eyes, but exhaustion grips me powerless. And soon, I succumb to its fiery grasp as I slip back into slumber.

When I wake up again, I already feel much stronger than before. The ache in my body has turned into a dull hum as if sharp nails are gently caressing my skin, enough to be felt but not to hurt. I look around the room, panic swelling in my chest as I take in the sight of different medical equipment looming around my bed and needles sticking out of my arm. I fight the urge to squirm as I take big, calming breaths, ignoring how the four white walls seem to close in on me. Thankfully, the door opens, and a nurse walks in, temporarily distracting me from my distress. She smiles upon seeing me awake and walks towards me.

"Welcome back, Ms. Davenport. How are you feeling?"

"W–where am I?" I ask weakly.

"In the hospital. A month ago, you were involved in a car crash, and your head was hurt pretty badly," the nurse says sympathetically. She is now taking my vitals, scribbling something on her chart from time to time.

Car crash?

I scrunch my eyes, trying to remember, but the harder I try, the more my head hurts.

"Wait. A month? Are you saying that I've been here... for a month?"

The nurse nods. "You've been unconscious the entire time. But your vitals now are looking good. The doctor will just run a few tests to make sure we don't miss anything."

I stay quiet for a while, my mind still processing everything the nurse just said, which has only raised new questions.

"Your friends and family were really worried about you, you know. There wasn't a day when you didn't have any visitors. Especially that special friend of yours you were in the car with." The nurse turns towards me, holding a pen against her chin. "What was her name? Em–Emma, I think? She barely left your side. She actually just went to grab some food before you woke up."

...I don't know any Emma, but I don't tell her that.

"What about my parents?"

"Your mom and sister usually visit during the evening."

"And my father?"

The nurse shakes her head. "I don't think I've ever seen your father."

The nurse leaves after a while, and the doctor comes inside the room shortly. I answer a few questions before I'm escorted outside to take some tests. Afterward, the nurse leads me back to my room and gently guides me to bed.

"Would you like me to call in your visitors?" the nurse asks.

I nod.

The nurse goes out, and soon my mom walks in followed by–

"Emily." I frown. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Both of them stop in their tracks. My mom looks at me in concern and confusion, while Emily looks like I just punched her in the gut.

Anger bubbles up inside me as a realization comes to mind. "Y–you. You're the one who did this, aren't you? You're the reason I'm here."

A guilty look flickers across her face, confirming my suspicions. And before I can stop myself, I shout at her to leave, but she stands there motionless, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

"Go get the doctor," my mom tells her, which snaps her out of her shock. She scurries out of the room at the same time my mom starts walking towards me.

"Why is she here, Mom?"

My mom stops at the side of the bed and reaches out to stroke my hair. "Honey, the accident was not her fault."

"But she was there with me..."

"Yes."

"Why?"

My mom's hand goes still, resting on top of my head. "Becca, what was the last thing you remember?"

"I..." I close my eyes and think hard for a moment. "I–I remember hosting the Kappa party. But that doesn't make any sense. Why would I leave with Emily?"

A brief look of panic flashes across her eyes.

"Mom? What's wrong?"

My mom smiles at me, but it looks forced. "It's nothing, sweetie. The doctor will be here soon."

But I can see that she's trying her best to keep calm–the look on her face similar to when she would talk to my little sister and me right after we would hear her and dad fight.

The doctor comes in a little while later, asking a bunch of questions similar to my mom's. They then do more tests on me, and I grow scared by the minute, not understanding what the hell is going on. Eventually, I'm back in my room alone, my mom and the doctor staying outside to talk. After some time, they enter the room, and my mom sits beside me, taking my hand as the doctor walks towards the other side of the bed.

I look at my mom, drained from all the medical tests I went through the entire day. "What's happening, Mom? I'm scared."

My mom squeezes my hand and gives me a reassuring smile. "The doctor will explain it to you, sweetie. But I'll be right here the whole time." She then gives a single nod to the doctor.

The doctor smiles at me politely. "How are you feeling, Becca?"

I stare at him, suddenly annoyed at being asked the same question over and over again.

"Right then." The doctor clears his throat. "During the accident, your brain was affected more than we initially thought." He pauses, and I meet his gaze, willing him to go straight to the point. "It seems like you have retrograde amnesia, meaning that you have no memory of the past three years of your life."

The doctor goes on and on about the technicalities, but I'm not listening anymore. His voice is reduced to background noise as I repeat his words inside my head, trying to grasp the implications of what he just said. I prop myself up, looking wildly around the room, tugging at my shirt as if it would help me breathe. But it doesn't. My body feels numb, which is why I almost don't notice my mom pulling me into a tight hug, stroking my back comfortingly as she whispers reassurances. I focus on her voice, forcing myself to take deep breaths as I slowly begin to calm down. I pull away after some time, recomposing myself as I find my voice.

"Three years," I whisper.

"We'll help you recover your memories, honey. But for now, you can ask me anything you like."

"I–I think I just need some rest."

My mom nods, helping me settle back in bed before she leaves, promising to be back tomorrow.

Sleep comes easy to me, and I wake up the next day with Madison sitting at the chair next to my bed, browsing her phone.

"Hey, Maddie."

She looks up from her phone, a smile lighting up her face before she practically jumps out of her chair to hug me. "Becca!"

"Ow, that... kinda hurts."

When she pulls away from me, her eyes are teary.

"Sorry, I just missed you so much. You were gone for so long! I thought–"

"Hey, hey, none of that," I say, smiling at her.

She pulls the chair closer to my bed and sits down. "How are you, Becca? Your mom told me about your... condition."

I stare at the ceiling. "Yeah, it sucks." I snap my head back to her. "Tell me something. Do we still hang out a lot?"

"We still meet up from time to time. Not as much as we used to, though," Madison says, smiling sadly.

I nod. "Who do I usually hang out with now?"

"Emily."

I furrow my eyebrows. "Did we become close friends or something?"

"Oh, right. You've only been together for like two years," Madison murmurs contemplatively. "She's your girlfriend, Becca."

I let the information sink in. "You have got to be kidding me." I stare at her wide-eyed. "How–What–Why?"

Madison recounts our 'love story,' each detail more absurd than the last. I don't want to believe any of it, but Emily as my girlfriend... it actually explains everything. I rub my temples. How the hell did that happen? I remember like it was yesterday when she tried to steal Chris away from me. And now... and now...

"Maddie? Can you do me a favor and grab me something to eat? I'm starving."

Madison smiles. "Of course."

Madison goes out in a while, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

***

After a few more days of recovery, I am finally allowed to leave the hospital. Despite my protests, my mom explains that I will have to stay with Emily and her friends at what I assume has been my home for the past two years. She explains that she prefers for someone to look after me constantly, and she will not be able to do that with her job and all.

Outside the hospital, I find Emily waiting near a car; her eyes are bloodshot, as if she hasn't slept a wink in days. When she sees me approaching, her face immediately brightens up. Our gazes lock briefly before I turn back to my mom.

"Are you sure I can't stay with you?"

My mom smiles sadly. "I'm sorry, honey. I wish you could, but..."

"It's okay, I understand."

"Look, I know you don't remember, but these people you've been living with... they care about you very much.”

I nod.

My mom pulls me into a hug before guiding me inside the car, shutting the door afterward. She and Emily talk for a brief moment outside, and I watch as she hugs Emily before walking away. Emily steps into the passenger seat.

Zack, who is sitting in the driver's seat, turns around and smiles at me warmly. "I'm glad you're back."

I shift uncomfortably, ignoring his gaze. "Thanks."

We drive home silently, awkwardness saturating the car space. Upon arriving, I observe the details of the house, seeing if it sparks any memories... but nothing. I see Emily looking at me intently, probably thinking the same thing. They then lead me inside the house, and I step in hesitantly, taking in the surroundings, which vary immensely from the sorority house, the last place I lived based on my memories. Emily guides me to my room, lingering near me as I open the door.

"Becca–"

I turn towards her. "Please don't. I know you think I'm your girlfriend. A–and I guess I was. But as far as I remember, I don't like you at all. So I would appreciate it if you just leave me alone." I turn around and go inside my room, shutting the door behind me. I then lie on the bed, trying to forget how the light dimmed out of Emily's eyes as I broke her heart.

[mrsgiovanna]

A lesson in Recollection (Don Giorno x Wife! Reader)

An awesome request from a nonnie mouse, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thanks so much for requesting my sweet 💕💜😘💭🐞

TW: brief descriptions of injuries, anxiety and hospitals

Word count: 1.7k

The beeps and hisses of the medical equipment were the only sounds that could be heard in your hospital room. Next to your bed sat your husband, jaw squared off, mouth clenched shut trying to contain his rage. His usually immaculate appearance was disheveled as he clutched your delicate hand against his lips.

He blamed himself for the position you were in by default, a husband was supposed to love and protect, the convention is built into the vows themselves. In reality though, the attack had happened so fast and so suddenly that nobody would have been able to preempt it. None of that mattered now… even though the offenders were severely dealt with, your condition was still the same. It had been a week, and you were still asleep. Your superficial injuries were taken care of by Giorno, but still you wouldn’t wake up. Numerous scans and brain activity tests revealed some swelling in your brain which was slowly subsiding, he simply had to be patient and wait for you to open your eyes again… and fortunately for him, it happened… unfortunately, you stared at him blankly, unable to put a name to his handsome, crestfallen face.

“Tesoro, it’s me… Giorno… your husband,”

“Tesoro? What’s that? I’m… married? I… I don’t feel so good,” you whispered, unable to find your voice after being unconscious for so long.

“Okay, okay amore, I’m getting your doctor, please hang on for me,”

You looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings, at the towering blond man scrambling around with all the white coats, you tried to push yourself up to join the conversation happening just above your head, but your physical strength was virtually nonexistent.

You were given a few days to physically recuperate, being subjected to test upon test to make sure that there was no other underlying cause for your loss of memory. The man who called himself your husband came to see you every day, bringing your favorite flowers, drinks, foods and scents with him in an attempt to help your memory recover. Even though you couldn’t remember him, you felt a sense of peace when you were around him, as if his soul was trying to connect on a subconscious level with your own. He was the only one who was able to talk you down from your bouts of anxiety, or the nightmares that sometimes plagued you. You figured he must have loved you immensely with all the effort he put into trying to get you to remember him.

“Your wife has retrograde amnesia, Mr. Giovanna. Fortunately, the swelling has subsided and her intracranial pressure has managed to consistently remain within normal levels, which is why I’m clearing her to go home. If there is any change in her condition or level of consciousness though, bring her back immediately. The road is a long one, Mr. Giovanna, there are no guarantees that her memories will return, but I have confidence that with the right care, she will be able to recover steadily.” Your doctor spoke honestly, not wanting to create unrealistic expectations, what he didn’t know was that Giorno was the type of person who always achieved whatever he had put his mind to- and right now, he was only concerned with making sure you would come out of this as unscathed as possible. Knowing that you would need all of his attention in the near future, he enlisted the help of his underboss and consigliere to help him run the organization remotely without having anyone privy to what he was actually doing. Both Mista and Fugo willingly obliged, wanting nothing than for you to make a full recovery.

“Thank you doctor, I’ll keep a close eye on her,” Giorno was relieved you were well enough to return home, the villa was painfully quiet and empty without you and he was certain that being in your sanctuary would help you remember your life with him. Looking at you sitting with your legs swinging off the side of your hospital bed and a faraway look in your eyes, you appeared so fragile and innocent.

“Good morning beautiful, how are you feeling today?” you turned to face him with a soft smile.

“Good morning Giorno, I’m okay thanks, and you?” the tender way in which you addressed him, being concerned for his well-being warmed his heart, whether you remembered him or not, you were still you… he was still yours as much as you were his.

“I’m much better now that I’m taking you home, shall we leave my love?”

“I’m ready, let’s go,”

Your doting husband helped you off the bed and took your things, you didn’t want to be wheeled out on the wheelchair, so you both walked out to the luxury car waiting for you. You didn’t expect there to be a driver, or a guard escorting you both… what does he do as job to be able to afford all this you mused. Come to think of it, you didn’t really know what your job was either… you decided to leave those questions for later. The entire drive home, you looked out of the window, the route home was unfamiliar, the imposing villa you were driven up to didn’t even feel real.

“Welcome home my love. Come, let’s get you settled in,”

“We live here? What exactly do we do?” your voice was imbued with curiosity.

“Well, I run a large, multidivisional organization, you are in charge of handing our philanthropic ventures, I’ll explain more later on… are you okay to walk up the stairs? In fact, never mind,” he said as he lifted you off the ground and carried you up the stairs despite your reassurances that you were fine. You looked at the beautifully decorated home, pictures of you both tastefully dotted throughout the hall way. Looking at his gorgeous angled face, you wondered how you both met and fell in love.

“This is our room bella, would you like to take a nap?”

“Gio, I’m fine… sorry, it just slipped out, do you mind if I call you Gio? It just sounds… right,”

“Of course bella, I’d prefer that. Ah! You must be hungry, all those days just eating hospital food… what would you like eat? Our chef will make anything you want, everyone has missed you here, so they’re all pretty excited you’re back home,”

“Really? I’d like to meet everyone later… if they’re not busy,”

“Okay my love,” said Giorno as he went into his closet to fetch something more casual to wear, choosing a simple V-neck t-shirt and jeans, shaking out his hair from its usual style, and leaving it unbound about his shoulders. He walked out to find you sitting at your vanity, looking at the products and the baubles, lifting up your favorite hairbrush and examining its engravings. He walked towards you, and took his place behind you, lifting your hair off your shoulders and bringing it to the back, he took the ornate brush from your grasp and began to gently brush your hair. Your injuries were well healed by now, but Giorno was still extremely careful.

“How does this feel? I’m not hurting you am I?

“No, it feels really nice actually… Gio… would you tell me how we met? Like, what’s our story? I see all the pictures around and we look so happy,”

“We were happy, bella, we still are, we’ll get back what was lost and create even better memories on the way… we met 10 years ago, we were just stupid ambitious kids back then, both 15 years old with heads full of dreams. I won’t go into detail, but we had very… unique occupations and abilities. We’ve been through a lot together, and rebuilt this organization from the ground up. We’ve been together as a couple for seven years and married for the past two,”

“Sounds like quite a journey for a pair as young as us… and now there’s this… I’m sorry, I’m sure you didn’t imagine something like this would happen,” the apologetic quality of your voice saddened Giorno, the last thing he wanted was for you to feel like this was your fault.

“We have fought against worse my love, and just like that we’ll handle this together… come, no sad faces now,” said Giorno as he braided some flowers into your hair.

“Wow, you’re good at this… where did you get the flowers from, you didn’t move an inch?” you asked, admiring his handiwork.

With a smile he replied that he’ll show you a bit later on, which you accepted. The rest of day was spent by talking about some of the interesting things that had happened to you both in the past. Being wary of overwhelming you, Giorno didn’t go into great detail about the more tragic experiences. When it came time for you to sleep, he suggested he sleep in one of the guest rooms if you felt uncomfortable, but you asked him to stay with you, feeling guilty that you were the reason he felt like he had to behave like a guest in his own home.

As you got more comfortable, and built up your strength with your recovery, Giorno slowly started reintegrating you back into your old routine, as difficult as it was, you had made great strides in re-learning key bits of information. Your mental fortitude had constantly reminded your husband exactly why he had fallen in love with you, the least he could do with your trying so hard, was to match your effort, working tirelessly with you on the exercises that your therapist suggested, recreating pivotal events so you could experience some semblance of what you would have when it initially occurred, and most importantly, being the support you needed when things became overwhelming.

Slowly you were reintroduced to Mista, Fugo and Trish, reestablishing the friendships almost immediately. You were grateful for the wonderful people who surrounded you, from the staff at the villa to Giorno’s closest associates who constantly sought to aid in your recovery. Most of all though, you were grateful for Giorno, you were aware of how much he had done and continues to do to aid you. While you were cognizant of everything you had been through together, having regained most of your memory through your combined efforts, what had remained altered though, was how you felt about Giorno, this whole experience solidifying your bond even more than you thought possible, it had just reaffirmed that you both would be able to overcome even the most dire of situations if you handled it together.

[mintseesaw]

northeast monsoon

pairing: god!jungkook x goddess!reader genre: fantasy, smut, slight angst, soulmate!au word count: 3.7k warnings: mature content, unprotected sex, brief mentions of the character’s health conditions, cursed!reader, son of the deity jungkook // 18+ summary: Jungkook, not out of ordinary, decided to celebrate his 24th birthday in his favorite place on earth, the closest place to heaven—on a mountain summit. However, even before he reaches the highest peak of the mountain range, he was trapped, enthralled, and coincidentally found his true nature.

note: the idea occurred to me earlier while i was at work yesterday used jk’s birthday as an excuse to pursue it and ignore my 36433 wips and drabble requests; short, steamy and a literal filth bc it’s unedited

Jungkook was lost.

His birthday seems to carry the bad luck today. His very first misfortune in his two year experience of mountain hiking. The moment he stepped foot on the soil of mountain range marks the start of a weird feeling sitting at the pit of his something. That he refused to acknowledge  because nothing bad happened to him before.

When they visited the homes of the natives on the foothill of the mountain to pay respect as inhabitants of the ancestral domain, the chieftain’s storytelling of the mountain’s cursed guardian sounded incredulous. He didn’t take it seriously nor think of it as a warning. He didn’t understand why the indigenous leader felt the need to tell them a folklore causing a delay on their activity.

Amongst the group of civilian trekkers, he was the only one who skipped the supposed ritual of spitting to the soiled ground and drawing a cross on foot on the same spot before entering the premises passed the small village. It was said to reverse the effect of any potential supernatural force against them.

Approximately 45 minutes after they started their trail onto the summit, he caught a swarm of fireflies flocking on a trunk of a humongous tree, seemingly in its hundred years of existence or more. But it wasn’t the insects that prompted him to stop and admire the view. It was the rare glow surrounding the tree that did. In his great fascination, he even loudly shared his discovery to the group. Their disinterest to the majestic tree dismayed him. Are they blind or something? It’s not everyday that they get to admire such beauty. For a solid few minutes, he was left dazed, stunned to see a tree before his eyes just like the one he had seen recently in a fantasy drama where there existed witchcraft and wizardry.

He’s not dreaming, is he?

When he finally snapped out of his reverie, the group was no longer in sight, leaving him there standing alone. At least, there’s a trace of footprints he could use to follow their tracks.

In silence, Jungkook couldn’t help but think back of the past, and the last bit memory he remembers when he woke up in a hospital bed with no recollection of his identity.

Four years ago, he was met with a major car accident with its impact resulting to hundreds of stitches in his chest, the only hideous scar he obtained after he was said to be hospitalized for a month. He not only developed a heart condition but was also diagnosed with a retrograde amnesia. He believes that his inability to recall his past memory marked the start of his vivid dreams occurring every night. Still, he was lucky enough to have his body remain in the best condition despite the lasting emotional and physiological damages it left him.

The endless dreams of mountains and forests led him to discover his fondness in scenery and the constant sense of emptiness becoming difficult to ignore. His newly found obsession with nature was enough to convince himself to start trekking, particularly mountains. Strange enough, he found the solitary in mountain peaks, of the scenery, and the cold climate in summits.  He found a temporary peace in the closest place to heaven from the constant ache that each of his bizarre dreams left his heart bruising.

It was not only his dreams that he finds peculiar. Although his mother had reminded him numerous times that it was his adolescent self who developed a liking to tattoos, he didn’t know what occurred to him in his teens to consider inking his body with unrecognizable symbols that even with a brief searching in google couldn't provide him what the underlying significance each mark carries.

Few minutes later, he found himself stopping at the same spot where he had taken his time admiring the tree. He didn’t know how it happened when he was only following the remnants of the collective footpath on the ground. If he perceived the situation odd, he didn’t acknowledge it until the third time he came back on the same spot, same view.

The fact that he’s always has this great sense of remembering directions whether it be in the road or in mountains, makes the situation even weirder. For the nth time, he took a glance at his wristwatch. A groan resonated through the eerie silence in the midst of the forest. He’s been walking in circles for almost two hours now.

The group might have been halfway through the summit at this point. The trail takes about 4-5 hours and he’s far behind them now. With a heavy heart, he decided to return back to the foothill.

The sun is at its highest peak above the sky, amplifying the dryness of his mouth from the heat of noon. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to drink the remaining content in his flask.

The gust of wind brought by the monsoon is somehow mixing up his sense of direction. Some may find it strange, but he could feel the presence of wind oddly stronger than other human beings. Out of the ordinary, he could sense where the wind came from just by the mere blow of breeze passed his skin. Right now, he couldn’t put his extraordinary ability into good use because even with his attempt to go back down, he keeps returning to the same location.

Jungkook is lost. Somewhat, he’s trapped.

Now more than ever, he’s almost convinced some being invisible to the naked eye is playing him around. Jungkook lowered his rucksack on the ground, and started pacing back and forth as he tried to figure out how he’ll reverse the imaginary spell.

Even with the time passing by, the fireflies remained there, swimming around the trunk like they own it. If he’s trapped, someone or something might be responsible for this. Whether or not these stupid supernatural creatures are true, he needs to get out of here.

His foot stopped mid-step and fixated his glare at the old tree. What else would prove the peculiarity of the situation other than the mythical personified before his eyes.

“Come on, take back whatever spell you’ve casted on me. I’m not gonna destroy your home. This is an order, you devious creature.” Jungkook reprimands sarcastically as if the poor, ginormous tree can understand him in the human language.

There was nothing significantly remarkable about it if not only for the fairy dust-like glimmers surrounding it.

However, to his surprise, he suddenly hears the rustles of the leaves and cracks of branches echo through the stillness in the air as they pliantly bend over. He could feel the shiver run through his spine as he gathered what was happening to the tree. It is bending, its crown slightly crouched in front of him as if it was bowing down.

Jungkook staggers back in utter astonishment.

What the fuck is this sorcery? Is he dreaming?

He blinks furiously, trying to deduce the realness of the scene in front of him.

Soon after, he felt another surge of force-like brush of the wind against his skin, kindling tingles and goosebumps to appear on his skin. Dust swirls like a whirlpool in the air as weightless dead leaves harshly dance above the ground before they fall back down. To make things more incredulously mad, out of nowhere, a blinding form comes into sight near the trunk.

As its gleam dies down, the next thing his eyes have captured is the most enchanting being he has ever seen in his life.

A goddess.

She leans forward, her shimmering palm rubbing up and down on the rough texture of the trunk, as if the bewitching creature is consoling the seemingly submissive native species. Whether or not the goddess is upraising its spirit, he couldn’t be sure.

In quiet amazement, he watches the beauty just a few meters away from him while his presence remains hidden. Long silky hair in beautiful waves flowing with its end touching her lower back. It’s shade resembles that of the dead leaves with seemingly fresh petals and leaves decorated as accessories on her hair. Almost brandishing her as a forest goddess. With her side facing his front, Jungkook could clearly see the swell of her breasts with her thick locks keeping her peaks hidden like an enthusing mystery.

As if abiding by whatever the goddess had said, the crouched tree slowly returns back to its natural form. And just as the goddess turns her back at him, ready to vanish into the thin air, he scurried forward.

“Wait!” Jungkook shouts, hurriedly calling their attention despite hardly recovering from the peculiarity of the scene in front of him.

You only responded with a side glance, just enough to see him in your peripheral vision.

Jungkook took it as his cue to garner more of your attention, “You’re a goddess?” He says with his tone clearly filled in awe.

As if his naive question took you by surprise, you whirled around. When you did, it was like there was an invisible electrifying sensation that struck him the moment your eyes landed on him. The tremor of sparks immediately radiating in his body.

She’s such an exquisite sight, Jungkook gawked. Cting you as his example, none of the illustrations he’d seen on the internet had given justice just how beautiful goddesses are in real life. In real life! 

When you spoke for the first time since you appeared in his vision, he was quickly snapped out of daze.

“You can see me? How… you mortals do not have the ability to see us.” You say breathlessly, bewildered to have met the eyes of a mortal for the first time since time immemorial. No living mortal can and will see you, unless you have opted to be seen.

Jungkook’s mouth parted. You said no affirmation. Yet, the way you addressed him as a mortal only meant one thing.

“You’re really a goddess!” He exclaims, still stunned.

“Go back to the land. The fairies will guide you the way.” You said with a simple directness, having no intention to unravel the mystery of his identity and why he seemed to carry power in him. Just as you uttered those words, the fairies appeared from the crown of the tree.

“No, wait! I’m not gonna leave until you answer my questions.”

Your head shook and with firm persistence, you say, “I am no guardian of a mortal like you. Leave the mountain before another fairy casts a spell on you. If that happens, you will never return to your home.”

Jungkook held his arms out. “I’m not here to harm anyone or anything.”

As the wind continues to swirl around the two of you, the long locks of your hair resting over your chest continue to sway pliantly in the wind’s direction.

At some point, Jungkook caught a vaguely familiar mark decorated on your skin just below your shoulder blade. On the same spot of one of his marks which mirrors yours.

“I am the guardian of this shelter and supernatural beings that live here. I cannot fill your curiosity nor have the power to keep you safe against them.”

Jungkook could perfectly hear you, but his focus had zeroed in to your shoulder. To see the exact resemblance of his mark on yours is a different story. You’re wrong, definitely wrong because you are the answer to his dreams.

Jungkook suddenly peels off his waterproof jacket while dragging his feet toward your direction.

The swell of your breasts entice him almost too painfully that his cock twitches from the mere sight of your glowing skin in complete nudity. As if they were inviting his palms to touch them. And even with your orbs glinting with subtle surprise, your face remained expressionless.

Why, he finds it fascinating. You have bewitched him!

Your confusion only lasted for a couple seconds until the last layer of fabric was taken off of his upper body. But it was replaced by a thunder striking discovery, gasping as your eyes landed on the flesh-colored, slit-like scar on his chest similar to that of the Deity’s symbol. Lightning bolt.

Jungkook met your eyes, thinking you’ve already recognized the identical marking on his skin.

When he parts his mouth to speak, you beat him to it.

“You’re not a mortal.” You revealed, still astounded.

“W-What?” Jungkook stopped in his tracks.

It couldn’t possibly be. The children of the Supreme Deity are no mortals. The God of the sea, the Ruler of the stars and moon, the Owner of the soon, the twin Gods of love and beauty, the Prince of the earth and the deity’s successor, and the missing guardian of the wind have no mortal blood. That you’re certain of. But the missing god... does it mean he’s the missing guardian of the wind?

Your gaze sifts through the generous amount of inks on his arms where the secrets of his power lie beneath the layer of the markings. The God of love have revealed this to you once several years when you dared question the reason why his body is decorated of inks, unlike other gods you have seen.

When your eyes shifted upward to his shoulder blade, you felt your heart tightens in an almost unbearable grip for the first time since the Deity has cursed you.

“Soulmate,” you reveal for the second time.

Jungkook’s eyes went round. “S-Soulmate?” He stutters.

You reach out and touch the ink of your bond on his skin. And just like that, Jungkook visibly shudders at the minimal contact.

Your eyes glossy from moisture. “I’ve been waiting for you.” You confessed.

He took one bold step forward, cupping your elegant face in his palms.

“Heavens, you’re so beautiful. How could I possibly believe that I’m rewarded with a soulmate like you? Tell me, I’m not dreaming.” He says with wonder glinting in his eyes.

He inches his face closer until your noses are touching. “If I only knew you’re waiting for me, I should’ve come here sooner when I began having those weird dreams. Fuck, let me kiss you, princess.” He groans, unable to wrap his head around with the revelation. He still has yet to ask what you meant when you said he’s not a mortal, but right now, he doesn’t care what his true identity is.

He needs to taste you.

And so he did, capturing your mouth in a flash, and taking your breath away as he pushes his tongue into the caverns of your mouth.

“So sweet,” he murmurs against your mouth. “You taste so sweet, princess.”

But the moment was cut short as he felt a searing pain in his chest. He jerks back as his body contorts in agony.

Jungkook hisses as the pain all too quickly rushes in his blood, the sensation numbing his entire body. With his eyes clenched tightly shut, he failed to witness the glow beginning to exude from each ink on his arms, the most vibrant glimmer coming from the mark on his chest that symbolizes his birthright.

His power is trying to rouse back through his mortal senses. Your glimmering fingers cautiously graze the bond on his skin, exploring the effect of your touch to him. 

The tingles that radiate through his veins left him whimpering and wanting more, more of it to distract him from the unbearable ache.

“Please touch me…” He writhes, sharply drawing a breath in and out.

You lower your head and let your mouth touch the bond. A ripple of tingles slither through him almost instantly, involuntarily making him shiver from the newfound sensation. He could feel the rush of blood going straight to his cock inside his pants. He needs more.

As if you heard his silent pleas, your tongue darts out of your mouth, swirling around the spot to soothe his aches. Jungkook’s hands curl over your back, closing the distance between your bodies, leaving no way for him to not feel your breasts on his chest. In daze, he looked heavenward, mouth parted back as gasps proceeded to stumble out of his mouth deliriously. With the pain drowned by the pleasure that your sensual licks carry, he tears your mouth off of his skin just to crash his mouth to yours in a searing kiss.

He lets his instincts rule him out, and there’s one thing he wants more than anything else than to permanently mark your body his, to seal the bond that will eternally link your souls together.

“I need you so much, Princess. Tell me you want this, too. Otherwise I’ll leave and will never bother you, again.” He says in a whisper against the corner of your mouth.

The harmless threat of his words stirs alarm in you, giving him the answer he wants to hear almost instantaneously. “I’m yours, please have me. Do as you wish to my body.”

He groans, loving the way you call him yours. “Jungkook,” he whispers against the plump skin of your glowing cheek, “Say it. Say my name, Princess.” He demands softly.

“Jungkook,” you utter breathlessly.

His chest vibrated as the growl rang through the emptiness of the forest. “Fuck, you’re so perfect, my goddess.”

Jungkook sweeps you off in his arms, and with a few, calculated steps, he laid you over his thrown jacket on the ground. Another groan tears out of him just as he parted your legs, with your bare, leaking center exposed right before his hooded eyes.

Unceremoniously, he braced himself on top of you, sucking the raven mark on your skin. His fully aroused member is freed with a pop of his button and a one forceful pull of the waistband of his trousers.

He wasted no more passing second and impulsively align the red tip of his mad cock on your entrance. With a calculated thrust of his hips, he sinks his member to your warm tightness, releasing a heavy sigh in relief as the heat of your hole equally envelops all throughout his body despite the chills brought by the gust of the wind.

Jungkook catches one of your peaks with his mouth as you get lost to the heat of the intimacy. He didn’t know if goddesses such as his enchanting soulmate can conceive like mortals do or if there are other methods to reproduce but it’s never a waste of his fluid to try and test the theory. After all, if your words bear truth, he may not be a human like what he actually thought he was.

Your heavenly mewls coax him to penetrate in you deeper, until your cries have intensified and your body writhes helplessly beneath him.

With each roll of his hips colliding against your pelvis, your delightful cries have become more profound, unrestrained, enough to flare warmth right straight to his abdomen. Jungkook rests his forehead just below your temple, murmuring sweet confessions to you, the owner of his soul and inevitably soon, his heart.

He guided your legs around his waist, giving him the access to ruthlessly pound into you deeper. And then something snaps out from him.

All the gentleness of his movements have evolved into something more carnal—feral, manifesting the strength of his true nature.

God of the wind, son of the Supreme Deity. The longer his body connects with your immortal form, the luminescence emitting on his skin becoming more vivid.

“Jungkook!” Another scream tears out of you. Tears cascading from your eyes from both pain and pleasure.

With his godly powers spurring during the intimate joining of your bodies, his strength turns more powerful that no human would possibly ever survive from. You could never match the godliness of a deity’s son, but your supernatural strength was able to neutralize the surge of his energy and entwines the intensity with yours.

The God of the wind continues to rock you closer and closer to the end, with the thought of his future with you, you carrying his children, you and no one else.

He senses the buildup tension in your stomach with your head tossing restlessly from side to side.

And in a suck of your bond with his mouth and a flick of your bud in your center, you exploded so powerfully around his cock. Jungkook chases his end while the rush of your euphoria continues to spark in your veins, giving your body an exceptional glow.

He reaches the peak of pleasure with an animalistic growl reverberating on his chest, locking your hips immobile to make sure your walls greedily take in every drop of his cum. He’d want to breed you with his children.

“My sweet goddess, you’re amazing.” He praises, nuzzling on the thick, wavy locks of your hair.

Jungkook didn’t miss the squeeze of your palm on his waist. He let your wandering hands trace the length of his body. But he pulls away when you spoke.

“Will you leave me after this?” There is sadness hinted at the tone of your voice.

He tilted your chin up with his fingers, studying your features. “Of course not, how can you say that?”

You smile weakly, the grief dancing in your eyes making his chest tightens. “I’m not as powerful as you are. You are the son of the deity, you can… reject our bond and choose any goddess as you wish. Whereas, I only have one eternal soulmate and that’s you. But…”

Even with the truth unraveling right before him, he could only focus on your grief. Why is someone as perfect as you hold so much moroseness in your heart?

“But?”

“This mountain is my world. I’m eternally cursed to guard this shelter.” Your lips quiver in fear. His thumb grazes your lower lip as his arm tightens over your back. The tale told by the chieftain crosses his mind. The cursed guardian is you.

“Oh princess, do you think anything else will convince me to live without you in my life? I’ll be wherever you need me to be. Goddess or not, I will never let you out of my sight forever.” He vows, sealing the promise of eternity with a power-clashing kiss.

mintseesaw © 2020

[drabbles-mc]

Remind Me (4/?)

EZ Reyes x OC (Aanya Reyes)

Request by @noz4a2​:  Ez & oc are married 2 years, Ez leaves on a run and while he’s gone oc gets into a bad car accident, she almost dies. Instead she is in a coma for 6 months. During that 6 month time Ez goes everyday or as much as he can, reads to her from her favorite book, etc. After 6 months she finally wakes up, but has retrograde amnesia & doesn’t know who Ez is or their life together. So he is determined to help her get her memory back and goes about wooing her again.

Warnings: angst (which like?? is gonna pretty much be a permanent warning for this fic I’m sorry), language, hospitals

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: Little bit of a slower chapter, but I’m really just trying to build up how EZ is with everyone in the context of everything that’s going on. I just...love him so much. Also, the book I reference in this one is one of my all-time faves if anyone was wondering lol

Chapter Index

EZ Taglist: @ly--canthrope​ @queenbeered​ @sincerelyasomebody​ @sadeyesgf​ @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @appropriate-writers-name​ @tomhardydallasstarsgirl​ @multiyfandomgirl40​ @sillygoose6969​ @louisianalady​ @gemini0410​ @paintballkid711​ @chibsytelford​ @yourwonkywriter​ @sesamepancakes​ @mayans-sauce​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​ @plentyoffandoms​ @georgiaaintnopeach​ @twistnet​ @amandinesblogofstuff​ @garbinge​ @bucky-iss-bae​ @enjoy-the-destruction​ @samcrobae​ @xladymacbethx​ @langiinspirations​ @bigcreatorwombatdreamer​

Days ticked by. The only change that EZ noticed was that the cuts and bruises were starting to fade. It brought him a tiny sliver of comfort in the midst of all the pain. Her doctor said that the swelling had gone down, and while she was still in a fairly fragile state, she didn’t have to be contained to the ICU any longer. She was breathing on her own, and apart from the lack of consciousness and low level of brain activity, her body was doing everything on its own. Those words together didn’t make a whole lot of sense to EZ, but he nodded along anyway.

“She can have visitors,” Dr. Chase said with a slight nod, “That’s a large benefit of being out of the ICU where we only allow immediate family. I’d still keep physical contact to a minimum but if she has friends or family that have been wanting to see her, I’d give them a call.”

“Is it looking any better for her?” EZ asked, full of hope, “Does this mean that she might wake up soon?”

The doctor took a deep breath, “I can’t answer that clearly, unfortunately. She’s lucky to still be alive. We have a few scans that we’re going to do now that the swelling has receded and hopefully that will give us some answers.”

EZ nodded but didn’t say anything else as Dr. Chase excused himself from the room. He traced his thumb along Aanya’s knuckles lightly, “I’ve been meaning to stop in and check on Laura anyway. Should I let her know she can come visit? I’m sure that she’s going nuts without you.”

Once he found out where her new room was going to be, EZ headed off to the bookstore. He had been avoiding it because he didn’t want to deal with the onslaught of memories. But he didn’t want to talk to Laura about all of this over text—she deserved more than that.

The bell chimed as he walked in, and even though he knew the current circumstances, part of him was still waiting for Aanya to materialize in front of him. Instead, though, he heard a set of quick footsteps and was met with Larura’s big brown doe eyes looking up at him.

“EZ,” her voice was soft, “Hey. How…how is she?”

He nodded, “They, uh, they moved her out of the ICU. So she can have visitors now. I figured you would want to know.”

Her face lit up, tears in her eyes, “Yea? You think I could stop by when I’m done here?”

“Of course. What time does your shift end? I could pick you up and take you home after. I’m cheaper than an Uber,” he forced a smile.

She laughed, “Are you sure? I don’t want to take up any of your time.”

“It’s fine, really. I don’t mind at all.”

The relief was apparent on her face, “I get off at eight. Is that too late?”

He shook his head, “Not at all. They all know me there by now, anyway, so I can sorta come and go as I please.”

“Yea, well, who’s gonna say no to that face?” she offered him a small smile.

He chuckled, wrapping her in a hug, “I’ll be back to get you at eight, yea?”

She leaned into him for a moment, “Thank you.”

He did his best to stay busy for most of the day. He knew that if he went back to the hospital, he wouldn’t be able to pull himself away to go and pick Laura up. He made his way to the scrapyard, hoping to at least kill a couple hours with Angel if nothing else.

The two of them sat out on the deck as EZ updated his brother on everything. Angel nodded as he listened to EZ speak, “Well that’s good news then, right? Means she’s starting to get better?”

“That’s what I thought,” he sighed, running his hands back over his head, “but the doctor doesn’t seem as sure and that makes me nervous.”

“If anyone can pull through all this shit, it’s her,” Angel knew that whatever was going on, on the medical side of things was way above his paygrade. But he also knew Aanya, and he knew that there was very little that she didn’t have the strength and willpower to get through and that had to count for something.

EZ rested his hands on the back of his neck, “I’m just hoping that I pull through it, too.”

Angel clapped his shoulder, “You’re not alone in this, you know that, right? I know sometimes you need your space and everything but you’re not alone. We all got your back, man. I don’t know what you’ll need from us, but we’ll do it. You just gotta tell us.”

He nodded, “I know,” he sighed, leaning forward onto the table, “I just feel fucking useless.”

“You’re not,” his tone was firm, reassuring.

They let the subject drop. Angel started filling him on what had been going on with the club. The guys had been respectful of the situation that EZ found himself in and hadn’t really bothered him with anything. There weren’t a lot of changes happening anyway, but Angel also knew that EZ needed to have a conversation about things that were actually in their control before he completely spiraled out.

EZ’s phone buzzed on the surface of the table. He glanced down, seeing a message from Laura saying that they were letting her off early so she could go see Aanya. He took a deep breath, telling her that he’d be there soon. He said goodbye to Angel and took off, trying to get his mind to stay on one consistent train of thought. Everything felt so scattered.

The bell above the door chimed quietly as he walked in. He lingered by the front, knowing that Laura would pop up momentarily. She walked up, looking exhausted but hopeful.

“Thank you again for this. I really appreciate it.”

He nodded, “Of course.”

The two of them walked out onto the sidewalk. EZ had parked his bike right up front. He could see the slight apprehension on Laura’s face and he knew that she’d never ridden one before. He smiled as he handed his helmet over to her.

“I’m a safe driver, I promise.”

She laughed nervously as she strapped the helmet on, “It’s not you that I don’t trust.”

“You’ll be fine. Just hang on tight and lean with me.”

True to his word, the ride to the hospital was safe, and much slower than it would’ve been if he was riding alone. By the end of it, Laura wasn’t necessarily comfortable with it, but she wasn’t as white-knuckled around his waist as she was when she first got onto the bike. So there was something to be said for that.

They walked in and made their way to Aanya’s new room. As they walked, EZ mentioned to her that physical contact had to be minimal—no hugs or anything like that. Laura nodded and he could see the sadness creeping back into her face. He didn’t know how to comfort her. He was still trying to figure out how to comfort himself.

Laura couldn’t hold back the gasp that came out of her as she took in the sight of her friend laid up with bandages and IV’s on her. Tears sprung into her eyes and EZ gently pulled her against his side, feeling her trembling against him.

“Fuck,” her voice was hardly a whisper.

“I know,” he nodded, “I’m sorry.”

She shook her head, wiping the tears away, “Don’t be. I just…this is all new to me. I’ve never really had to visit hospitals before.”

“You’re lucky,” he paused, clearing his throat, “Doc said there’s no way to know if she can hear us or not, but to act like she does. If you, um, if you want a couple minutes I can wait outside.”

“You don’t have to do that,” she didn’t want to kick him out of his own wife’s room.

He shook his head slightly, “It’s alright, really. I know it feels kind of weird when there’s people watching you,” he offered her a small smile, “She’s probably sick of my voice anyway,” he squeezed her tight against his side for a moment before stepping towards the door, “I’ll be right out in the hall if you need me.”

“Okay,” she nodded, her voice quiet.

Once EZ had left and shut the door behind him, she walked over and sat down next to Aanya’s bed. The tears began to flow and she rested her face in the palms of her hands. She wanted to have something to say but she didn’t even know where to start. After a few deep breaths and wiping the tears away, she looked over and searched Aanya’s face.

“I miss you,” she finally said, “I know it hasn’t really been that long. And, realistically we’ve definitely gone longer without seeing each other. But I miss you. Work isn’t nearly as much fun without you. Lucy has actually been around to fill in for you and she is still…” she shook her head with a quiet laugh, tears still hanging at the edges of her eyes, “so annoying. I know you like her and all but you gotta admit that she’s a lot of person to deal with sometimes.”

There were a few beats of silence as Laura tried to figure out what to say next. She spotted the book that she had given EZ before resting on top of the bedside table, along with the ones that he had brought himself. She skimmed through them all, glancing back and forth between the pages and Aanya’s face.

“EZ brought me here on the bike,” she said, “I don’t know how you find that experience enjoyable, Aanya,” she chuckled, “I was freaking out the whole time. Surprised I didn’t crack one of his ribs.”

She sat there with her for a while, just recounting the mundane events of the past few days. She wasn’t really sure what else there was to say. She felt like she cycled through her emotions a dozen times over as she spoke, like her heart couldn’t decide if she was coping with this well or not.

The minutes ticked by and Laura knew that she had to get going. She looked over at Aanya, a sad smile on her face, “You gotta get back here soon, okay? I miss you,” she gave her forearm a light squeeze, “We all do,” she wiped the tears off of her face as she stood up from her chair, “I love you. I’ll be back soon, okay?”

She walked out of the room and saw EZ sitting in the hallway, head leaned back against the wall with his eyes closed. He opened them only when he heard the door click shut. He glanced over at Laura and she could see the exhaustion in his face despite the fact that he was trying his best to be positive in front of her.

“Ready?”

She nodded, “Yea. You still good to bring me home?”

He stood up, “Of course. You gonna survive another ride on the bike?”

She laughed, “I guess we’ll find out.”

He could still feel the nerves radiating off of her on the ride back to her apartment, but she handled it well. They were standing on the sidewalk outside of her apartment building, both of them trying to process the entire day. EZ lit a cigarette, offering her one which she politely declined.

He cleared his throat, “I’m, um, I’m sorry.”

She raised her eyebrows, confused, “For what?”

“I’ve been meaning to stop in at the shop to check on you, see how you’re doing. But being in there is just…hard.”

She nodded, “Trust me, I get it. You don’t have to apologize,” she leaned against the light post, “I feel like I’m constantly waiting for her to come in. It’s all just weird right now.”

“I know I haven’t been acting like it, but you know that you can always call me if you need anything, right? I know Aanya was your friend, not really me, but I still got your back.”

She smiled, nodding, “Thank you. I appreciate it,” she stepped in and hugged him, “Goodnight, EZ. Get home safe.”

“Will do,” he made sure that she got in the building okay before snubbing out his cigarette and getting back on his bike to head home.

He walked into his house, letting out a heavy sigh as he shrugged off his kutte and laid it over a chair at the dining room table. He kicked off his boots and made his way over to the living room to collapse on the couch. He hadn’t been able to force himself to sleep in their bed. He contemplated sleeping in the guest room but for some reason that felt sadder than sleeping on the couch.

The house was silent and it was almost too much to bear. He wanted to badly to hear the sound of her shuffling around in the kitchen, making hot cocoa before she came to bed. Or to listen to her trying to quietly root through the cabinets for late-night snacks when she thought that he couldn’t hear her. But there was nothing, and it was debilitating.

The next day when he showed up to the scrapyard, he made a point to flag Angel down and pull him aside. There was worry all over his brother’s face as he walked up, waiting to hear what EZ had to say. He just hoped that it wasn’t bad news.

“’Sup, Boy Scout?”

“Can I ask you for a favor?”

He nodded, “Whatever you need.”

“You think you could stop in at Aanya’s bookstore like, once a week or so? To check on her friend Laura?” he shook his head slightly, “I know I should but I can’t be there all the time. I can’t handle that.”

He shrugged, nodding, “Yea, sure,” he chuckled, “She’s not gonna be weirded out that I’m popping in all the time?”

EZ chuckled, “I’ll let her know you’ll be checking in. Make sure she knows you’re not just turning into a stalker.”

He went through the motions of his job at the yard. It was something that kept his hands and his mind busy enough to keep him from spinning out. As much as he wanted to spend all of his time at Aanya’s bedside, he knew that he couldn’t torture himself like that. He had to feel useful somehow, even if right now he couldn’t be useful to her.

EZ walked into the clubhouse, heading towards the back so he could grab a bottle of water. When he came back out, Bishop flagged him down. “You got a minute, EZ?” he asked.

He nodded, “Yea. What’s up?”

Bishop got up out of his chair and motioned for EZ to follow him into Templo, “C’mon,” he slid the door shut behind them, and once they were both seated at the table, he spoke up again, “I wanted to talk to you about some things.”

“Alright,” EZ tried to hide the fact that he was nervous about what this conversation was going to entail, “shoot.”

“I know you’ve got a lot of shit on your plate. We all talk a lot about how the club is a priority but you know that it’s always family first, right?” he waited for EZ to acknowledge what he was saying and once he did, he continued, “Whatever it is that you need to get you through this shit with Aanya, you come and tell me. I’ll do whatever I can. But,” he sighed, “this club is still moving forward with everything that we’re doing. This work doesn’t stop. I’m not asking you to be up for everything, but we do still need you. I can bench you for a while but when push comes to shove you’re still going to be on the roster. You know that, right?”

EZ took a moment to digest everything that Bishop had just said to him. Truthfully, he hadn’t really thought long-term about anything. He was just trying to survive one day at a time. But Bishop had an MC to run, and it made sense that his head was in a much more logical place.

He nodded, “I know.”

“Good. I don’t mean to sound insensitive to what you’re going through, EZ. I just wanted to have this conversation sooner rather than later.”

EZ nodded, knowing that Bishop was smart to handle the situation the way that he was. He wasn’t upset about any of it in the slightest. There was too much at stake.

“I’m pulling you off of everything that would take you out of town for an extended period of time. You’ll be on home base when the rest of us travel. Someone’s always gotta be so for now it might as well be you. You good with that?”

“Absolutely.”

Bishop nodded, sighing in relief, “Good,” he drummed his fingers on the tabletop, “Is there anything you need?”

He shook his head, “No. Thank you, Bish. I fuckin’ owe you.”

“We’re family. This is what we do,” he stood up and gave EZ a hug, “Keep taking care of yourself.”

That night while EZ was visiting Aanya, he managed to get to the end of the first book that he had brought. He set it off to the side with a sigh. He didn’t think that he’d get so comfortable reading out loud, but he did. He wished that he could know for sure whether or not she heard him, whether or not it was helping at all. But he had to believe that it was helping her. It was the one thing that he could still offer her.

“We have a couple choices for the next one,” he leafed through the small pile of books at her bedside, “I brought a few from home. Laura brought over a new one for you a little while ago, though. Said you’d been eyeing it at the shop. I swear you’ve read every book in that place,” he chuckled as he read the back cover, “I forget sometimes that you like the sappy romance novels, too. Even the ones from the Young Adult section,” he chuckled as he thought back to all the time he’d found her sitting in the YA Fiction aisle, “All the books you recommended to me were always dark, and heavy. Maybe it would do me some good to switch it up, hm?”

He really had no interest in romance novels. They were never his thing. But the more he thought about reading books that he had brought from home, the more his mind was flooded with memories of how each one ended up there. What he’d give to be able to push things from his mind for a little while, to just go a few days without constantly remembering everything that had ever happened. It was beautiful, but painful. And he just wanted a break.

“Gonna get whiplash going from Bolaño to this, but we’ll give it a shot,” he chuckled, “Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe. The title is a fucking mouthful. But you have yet to steer me wrong with books so I’ll read it anyway,” he shook his head, looking over at her, “If Angel knew I was reading kids’ fiction he would never let me hear the end of it, querida. If he walks in on this I’m blaming you, I’m sorry,” he chuckled despite the exhaustion that was taking over his body.

EZ was woken up by a nurse gently nudging his shoulder. At some point while he was reading, he fell asleep. His hand was still resting on top of Aanya’s book open and laying on his chest. The nurse offered him a kind smile, “Sorry to wake you, Mr. Reyes. Just didn’t want to let you get caught up here without realizing it.”

He sat up slowly wiping the sleep from his eyes with a nod, “Thank you, I appreciate it,” he looked back and forth between Aanya and the nurse, “If I ask you something, will you be honest with me?”

She nodded, “Of course.”

“Do you think she’s gonna wake up?”

She took a slow, deep breath, “I think that you’re going to have to be patient. The fact that she’s still with us at all is a miracle, and I don’t particularly like using that word.”

He nodded slowly, “Right.”

“I know it might not be my place to say, Mr. Reyes, but she’s very lucky to have someone like you. A lot of people act like it doesn’t make a difference, but I really believe that it does.”

He smiled, “Thank you, I appreciate it,” he stood up and stretched, running his hands over his face, “Thank you for taking care of her.”

“That’s what we do,” she nodded with a small smile.

“I’m sure I’ll see you again soon. Take care.”

“You too,” she offered up a small wave as she watched him leave the hospital room.

[addictedtostorytelling]

Random thought Say Sara or even Grissom well one or the other had amnesia how do you think the other would handle it? Pre / post dating / married.

hi, anon!

honestly, this question is one that is really hard or even impossible for me to answer without knowing the specifics of the situation.

to even hazard educated guesses, i’d need to know:

what kind of amnesia are we talking about here—real amnesia, which is often far more complicated and far less glamorous than the alternative, or the kind of total "i don't remember my name or anything about myself or anyone i've ever met" amnesia that for the most part only really exists on soap operas?

is the amnesia retrograde in nature (meaning that the person can't retrieve information that was acquired before a certain point) or antegrade (meaning that the person can't acquire new information after a certain point/transfer information from the short-term to the long-term memory) or both?

is the amnesia temporary or permanent? what's the prognosis? is there any chance the condition will be reversed? if so, to what degree?

does it affect the semantic memory (or ability to store facts) or the episodic memory (or the ability to recall events) or both?

what is its scope (i.e., has the person forgotten a few hours' worth of information, a few days or weeks' worth, years' worth, a whole lifetimes' worth, etc.)?

if it is antegrade in nature, to what degree is the person affected? how long can they store information in their short-term memories—a few minutes, a few hours, a few days, a few weeks, a month?

is the person still capable of learning? can they still perform tasks that they learned to do in the past?

is this the kind of deal where the person suffered some kind of brain injury that triggered the amnesia or where they underwent a trauma that has caused them to psychologically sublimate certain memories or where they have a degenerative neurological condition like dementia or alzheimer's?

if the amnesia is permanent, is it static or will it progressively get worse over time?

of course, the circumstances under which the person sustained amnesia would also play a role in how the whole situation panned out, so i’d also probably need to know:

is the other (unaffected) person present when the amnesia comes on in their beloved? if not, how and under what circumstances do they learn about it*?

does the unaffected person have any idea what caused the amnesia?

how sudden is the onset of the amnesia itself? how traumatic? how noticeable is it from the get-go? (i.e., concussion from falling off a ladder vs. nonfatal gunshot wound to the head in the line of duty vs. memory slowly slipping until eventually there’s a dementia diagnosis)

where is the affected person going to end up while they’re affected by the condition—i.e., will they be in the hospital or a care facility or will they eventually be released to go home, etc.?

to what extent does the affected person remember the unaffected person and the specifics of their relationship? would the affected person still remember that s/he was in love with the unaffected one?

to what extent is the affected person still able to do their job? care for themselves? function? how vulnerable are they?

do they develop any additional disabilities at the time when they do the amnesia?

* horrible thought, but if it happened that if either grissom or sara had gotten some kind of serious, long-lasting amnesia while sara still was living in san francisco and grissom in vegas (prior to s1), then the unaffected person might never even find out about it. he or she would call or write to the other person as usual, and that person just wouldn’t respond, and s/he would think that the other person had ghosted him/her, and unless s/he were to hear what had happened to that person through the west coast criminalistics gossip grapevine, s/he’d likely have no idea where that person had gone to or why that person had stopped communicating. ditto for if either one of them got amnesia during the divorce era (unless it were the case that they still held legal power of attorney over/“next of kin” status for each other, in which case they might get a call).

suffice it to say, without knowing the particulars, it’s really, really hard to pin down what might happen.

in general, i can vaguely handwave and say that in the pre-relationship days, any situation that occurred would probably involve a lot of anxious “i’m scared to death for my beloved and want to do everything and anything i can for him/her but i don’t really have the recourse to do so” hovering and guilty/fearful/grief-stricken feelings on the part of the unaffected person. 

however, how things might play out more specifically would depend so much on the duration and prognosis of the amnesia and the circumstances of what was going on that i can’t offer more conjecture than that. 

whether or not the truth about the unaffected person’s feelings for the affected person would come out (to the affected person and/or the rest of the team) is uncertain, as is to what degree the unaffected person could/would be involved in the care and treatment of the affected person.

during the secret relationship days, i think nine times out of ten, any situation involving amnesia would likely result in the unaffected person revealing the truth about the relationship to the team (because they’d of course be taking care of the affected person).

and during the married days, there’d be no question: the unaffected person undoubtedly would be right there by the affected person’s side, doing everything in their power to help them regain their memories, and sticking with them even if they couldn’t. 

again, in general, i can say that regardless of what phase of their relationship they were in, the unaffected person would certainly feel scared and heartsick over what was happening. 

particularly if the other person didn’t remember them, it would be absolutely gutting.

because it’s human nature, i’m sure that when the amnesia first came on, regardless of what they’d been told the prognosis for it was (whether it was temporary or permanent, whether anything could help with it or not), the unaffected person would, whenever they were able to be alone with the affected person for the first time, try to comfort and reassure them and jog their memories by offering up memories of their own (“i still remember the first time i saw you at the conference—,” “that day we when investigated that case at the ice rink, i had never wanted to kiss you so badly,” “remember last week when we were painting the living room? i realized we missed a spot by the ceiling. i need you to come home and help me fix it, okay?”). they’d answer all of the affected person’s repetitive questions. they’d be patient and persistent and get their hearts broken any time they saw the affected person slipping into confusion or looking at them like they were a stranger. they’d do anything that the doctors suggested might be useful. if they were allowed, they’d take care of the affected person; go with them to appointments and therapy and treatments, make sure they were fed, help them keep up with meds, compensate for what they couldn’t do (like driving), etc., at least to whatever extent they were permitted to.

obviously, they’d be able to play a more “hands-on” role in the dating and married phases of the relationship than before they were together.

if the condition were never going to get better—and especially if it were going to get progressively worse—then they’d have hard choices to make, for themselves in the pre-dating days (i.e., “to what extent am i going to be open about what the stakes are for me with this situation? am i going to announce to everyone that i’m in love with this person? what am i going to do if s/he can never come back to work? if s/he requires permanent care? if s/he is going to keep getting sicker? what am i allowed to do? what does s/he want from me? where are the boundaries? if i insert myself into what’s happening to him/her, will it make things better or worse?”) and for themselves and their partner in the dating and married ones*.

* remember: aside from betty (who is elderly and may not be alive in the csiverse after 2014, given that that’s when her portrayer phyllis frelich died in real life), neither one of them has any family besides each other, so all of the medical choices would come down to the unaffected partner to make if the affected partner did not have the capacity to make them for themselves.

anyway.

that’s about as far as i can go in the absence of details.

sorry for the vagueness!

thanks for the question! please feel welcome to send another any time.

[songsformonkeys]

Digging Up Bones (whiskey x f!reader) - chapter 3

[Banner by the lovely @yespolkadotkitty ]

Summary: You work for the Statesmen as the head of their medical department. It’s your job to patch up anyone who gets back wounded and to work on ways to prevent them from getting badly wounded in the first place.

Agent Whiskey, in particular, seems to be more accident-prone than the rest and he never passes up a reason to come see you, whether for real injuries or imaginary ones. The two of you form a close friendship, which slowly turns into something more.

Then a British man with a headshot wound and a fascination with butterflies shows up in your emergency room and in the events that follow you’re forced to reevaluate just about everything you thought you knew about your partner.

Warnings: canon typical violence

Masterlist

Chapter 3

The following three days passed in a slow fashion. Not just because Whiskey was gone but the rest of the agents seemed to be staying out of harm's way as well. It was a bit boring, but that was something Tonic had taught you not to complain about out loud since it apparently made it sound like you longed for injuries and carnage.

On the bright side, the slow days gave you, Ginger, and Tonic time to begin interviewing the agents on base for their emergency folders for the Alpha-gel.

The three of you had realized that while the gel and the nanites healed the brain perfectly fine they still needed something to counter the retrograde amnesia, which seemed to be a standard side effect. The sample of agents that had needed to use the gel was still small and so you couldn't draw too many sure conclusions from it, but every single one of them so far had suffered memory loss. It had been Tonic's idea that reminders of a past trauma might jump-start the memory again. The results had been good but guessing and digging up past traumas had been painstakingly difficult and had taken up more time than ideal. So you had collectively decided that each agent should have a file or a folder containing their very worst memory and ways it could be triggered.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 On Wednesday evening, you curled up in your armchair and called Whiskey. He picked up after three rings.

“Moonshine, “ he drawled, voice sounding a little tired.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” you asked, suddenly feeling a little bad. It wasn't that late in the evening but maybe Whiskey had needed to tuck in early.

“No no, I was awake,” Whiskey assured you, “Just got home from a looong day at an art auction. I'm not sure if you've ever been but it is possibly the most boring thing I have ever done.”

“Yeah? What was so bad about it?” you asked, smiling to yourself. You would be caught dead before admitting it out loud but you had actually missed him these past few days.

Whiskey began describing his day. A soon as he began talking, his voice relaxed you. You pictured him walking around in a swanky hotel room, with a view of the big city, probably still wearing his hat. You were half convinced he even slept in that thing.

Whiskey told you about the auction and the few stuck-up people who had pretended not to understand his southern accent just to make him feel less than. Then he told you about the way he'd later wiped the smug smiles off their faces by actually bidding home the small painting they had been ogling.

“Champ might kill me for it, 'cause it cost a small fortune, but it was worth it!”

“What will you do with the painting?” you asked.

“Hm,” Whiskey said and you didn't need to see him to know that he was shrugging, “Dunno. Might hang it in my apartment. It's a beautiful painting, reminded me of someone special... Speaking of my apartment, have you finished the cake yet?”

You nodded, before remembering that he couldn't see you.

“Yes, Ginger and Tonic helped me eat the rest of it.”

You had been over to Whiskey's apartment the day after he'd left. When you'd gotten to work, his key had been in a white envelope on your desk and you hadn't been able to keep your curiosity at bay for longer than a workday.

The apartment hadn't been quite what you thought Whiskey's home would look like. It had been much neater and cleaner than you had expected, for starters. You had expected more of a bachelor pad but Whiskey's apartment was quite nice. It looked lived in but not messy. Each thing seemed to have its own designated spot. As you had walked around the living room towards the kitchen you had taken in the big, comfortable-looking couch and multi-colored knitted blanket that looked like it was homemade.

There had been a couple of books on art history resting on the wooden coffee table. You had stopped, slightly in awe, in front of the big bookshelves that covered a whole wall of the room. You'd never pictured Whiskey to be the reading type, but here was clear proof otherwise. You had scanned the titles of the books and the exceptionally wide array of subjects made you suspect that a lot of these had been read for previous missions. But there had been a whole shelf of fiction too and you smiled a little as you noted that a lot of them seemed to be old western classics.

You had found the cake in the fridge in the equally clean kitchen. The cake had been in a plastic container and Whiskey had stuck a post-it note with a smiley on the lid.

“I liked your bookshelf. And I borrowed a book from you,“ you confessed over the phone and Whiskey chuckled in response.

“Is that so? Which one, if I may ask, was it that caught your fancy?”

“Lonesome Dove.”

“Ah, a classic! Didn't have you pegged as a western girl, Moonshine.”

“I'm not sure if I am, I've never read any. But you had a lot of them and I thought...” You cut yourself off, glancing over at the book on your bed, “You had a book on human anatomy as well that looked interesting and one on make-shift medical treatment when you don't have access to a hospital. I didn't take those, though. It felt wrong to take so many books without asking...”

Whiskey chuckled again and the sound did weird things to your insides, or maybe it was the nerves of having just admitted to raiding his bookshelf.

“Darlin', if it makes you happy, you are more than welcome to help yourself to any book in that apartment”

“Really? But what if it's a book that you suddenly need?”

“Then I'll know perfectly well where to find it.”

You couldn't really argue with that logic, didn't really want to either because the prospect of getting to read all those books almost made you giddy.

“So besides ogling my books, what else have you been up to while I've been gone?” Whiskey asked and you proceeded to tell him about the work with the Trauma Folders, which Tonic so affectionately called them.

“You still haven't submitted yours either, by the way,” you told him. Whiskey didn't immediately answer. The line was dead silent for a few seconds and just when you were about to ask if he was still there, he cleared his throat.

“Yeah, I know. I promise to get right on that as soon as I'm back, okay?” He sounded a little odd and your brow furrowed slightly. Whiskey cleared his throat again.

“Look, darlin', I'm pretty dead on my feet right now and as lovely as your voice is to listen to, I think unfortunately we gotta hang up before I start snoring on you.”

“Oh, of course! Sorry, I've talked too much.”

“Hardly,” Whiskey replied and his voice was warm and soft again, which eased the nervous knots that had begun forming in your stomach at his abrupt attempt to end the call. Usually, that was your role to try and say goodnight and his to try and linger. “I cherish every word, which is why I prefer to be awake for them. Call me tomorrow again?”

“Sure. Good night, Whiskey.”

“Good night, darlin'”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 If the previous days had been slow, the following day was anything but, at least when the afternoon rolled around.

Ginger had called you about some very strange low-frequency readings coming from a church nearby in Kentucky. She told you that she and Tequila were gonna go check it out but that you should be on standby, just in case.

You told her to be careful. Ginger was excellent at her job but she was also one of your closest friends and you couldn't help but worry.

After you'd ended the call, you immediately set about preparing the emergency room and double-checking to make sure everything was there. Seeing as neither of you knew what the strange readings had been about, it was difficult to prepare for every possible scenario, and while you knew that the health effects of exposure to extremely low frequencies were being discussed in the medical community, no one knew exactly what the effects were.

It seemed like a lifetime had passed before Ginder called you again. You heard the sound of the helicopter in the background. She told you that they'd be there in thirty and that they were bringing someone in with a headshot.

“I'll get the chamber ready for him!” you told her

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Thirty minutes later, on the dot, you watched as the helicopter landed and Tequila emerged, carrying a man in a suit. The man's face was obscured by the balloon containing the Alpha-gel but his clothes looked expensive.

“Entry point?” you yelled, over the sound of the helicopter as you waved for Tequila and Ginger to hurry inside.

“Straight through the left eye,” Ginger replied and you winced. The left temporal lobe would be damaged, for sure, maybe part of the occipital one too. You were confident that the nanites would be able to rebuild the brain matter but with the temporal lobe damaged you worried that the memory loss might be even more extensive than what you'd seen before and you wondered if it would affect his speech.

“Exit point or is the bullet still in there?” you asked.

“The bullet went all the way through as far as I could tell. Not sure what he was shot with though so we'll have to scan to make sure there's nothing left in there.”

Said and done. When you got down to the medical rooms you first put the man through a thorough scan of his skull. Just like Ginger suspected, the bullet had gone straight through and it luckily hadn't left anything but damaged tissue in its wake. Tequila helped move him over to the nanite chamber. Carefully, you removed the Alpha-gel balloon and quickly closed the chamber around his head.

“What happened?” you asked as you sat down in front of the computer and began tapping away at the keyboard, starting the machine and readying it for the healing and rebuilding process.

“We have no idea,” Ginger said. “We found him like this outside the church, no sign of who had shot him. Inside the church, however...”

“What?” you asked.

“Inside was a total fuckin' bloodbath,” Tequila supplied, “Whole congregation just...slaughtered.”

You looked over at the strange man.

“You think he did it?”

Both Ginger and Tequila shrugged.

“We don't know. But he's got blood on him that isn't his own and there was no gun in his hand so he clearly didn't shoot himself, which means someone got away from that Church alive.” Ginger reasoned, “And there's one more thing..”

She pulled a pair of glasses from the pocket of her jacket. The left glass was shattered.

“He was wearing these. These aren't normal glasses, which means he's not a civilian. And his watch... he's some sort of intelligence. I'll dig around and see if I can find out whom he belongs to.”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 You called Whiskey again that evening. He sounded more awake today but you could practically hear the frown on his face when you told him about your strange new guest. He was not happy.

“He's an agent?” he asked.

“We think so. Ginger is running some tests on his glasses and his watch to see what we can figure out but so far we have no idea whom he's working for. So we just have to wait for him to wake up and see how much he remembers.”

“I don't like this,” Whiskey stated. “Not one bit. If he's intelligence, he's dangerous, Moonshine. You shouldn't be alone with him, not under any circumstances!”

“I won't,” you reassured him while rolling your eyes. “Agent Tequila also has an over-protective streak and has, therefore, put himself on guard duty until further notice. I've had him looking over my shoulder all evening.”

You had found it somewhat annoying but Whiskey had instantly calmed down upon hearing that bit of information. He told you to promise to listen to Tequila on this, which you reluctantly did. You didn't tell Whiskey that if the arrangement continued, you would have to come to some sort of agreement with Tequila on how close was close enough for protection. You couldn't have him reading over your shoulder all day long or you'd go stir crazy.

Whiskey continued to ask you a bunch of questions about the strange man and you couldn't answer a single one. He asked you about the signal too and you couldn't give him any answers to that either. It was all Ginger's area of expertise and you told him as much.

“Sorry, darlin', just wanna make sure my favorite girl is safe until I get back.”

Whiskey's words made you smile stupidly, despite the slightly patronizing undertone of them. You would like to think you knew how to take care of yourself, especially around your patients. But you did enjoy it when Whiskey called you his favorite. No one else had called you their favorite before.

After a few more minutes of chit-chat, you both said good night.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 The next day, your patient woke up.

It had been decided the day before that Tonic and Tequila would be the first ones to greet him. Tequila because of the whole bodyguard business and Tonic because he was by far the one who had the most experience with calming people in shock and panic. You had only sulked a little when you'd sat down the desk on the other side of the one-way mirror showing you the stranger's cell. You turned on the cameras in the other room to record the interaction before leaning forward over the desk to watch.

As anticipated, the man was more than a little freaked out by waking up in an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar faces around him.

“Where am I? Who are you?” he immediately asked and you raised your eyebrows as you noted his British accent. The stranger tried to scramble off the bed where he'd been lying. Tequila took a step forward but Tonic quickly held up a hand to stop him.

“You are in a hospital,” Tonic told the frightened man and gave him a calm smile, “My name is To...Tom.”

“A hospital? What happened?” the stranger asked.

“We were hoping you would be able to tell us. You were in some sort of accident and when we found you, you were unconscious.”

Unconscious... that was definitely an understatement to describing having had one's brains blown out through the back of their head.

“Do you remember anything of what happened?” Tonic continued.

The British man looked around the room with wild eyes but he was already calming down a bit. While you were a bit jealous that Tonic, or Tom apparently, was the first one to get to talk to your new patient you had to admit that it was a privilege to get to watch him work. Tonic continued talking to the man and answering his questions by saying just enough to calm him but not enough to confuse him.

You found out that his name was Harry, but he couldn't remember his last name. He was from England and he thought he was 23 years old, which he most definitely was not. You caught Tonic and Tequila exchange a look as Harry told them his age. If Harry couldn't remember anything beyond his 23rd year then you estimated that he had forgotten more than half of his life. And since he wasn't one of your agents, you had no idea how to bring those memories back again...

Tonic and Harry spoke for a while longer and Tonic told him about his injuries. He also told harry about the memory loss. Harry didn't believe him until Tonic guided him over to the one-way mirror separating you from them and let Harry have a look at himself. You stood on the other side of the mirror and could watch as realization dawned on Harry. His breathing immediately sped up again and he was beginning to panic.

“Harry,” Tonic said calmly, “Harry, I'm gonna need you to breathe slower with me, okay? We've seen this kind of memory loss before and we will do our very best to help you recover the memories you can't remember right now”

“Think of it as one hell of a hangover,” Tequila supplied and Harry gave him an incredulous look.

“Hangover?” he asked in a weak voice “I look old enough to be a grandfather and I don't remember any of it... I don't think anyone has ever been drunk enough for that kind of hangover.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Tonic and Tequila handled the whole ordeal in a way that made you proud to call yourself their colleague and they stayed with Harry for most of the day, talking and explaining. Harry listened patiently and you had to give him credit for taking the situation a whole lot better than some of the Statesmen who had gone through the same thing. He was scared and worried, sure, but he managed to keep his panic in check and asked Tonic a whole bunch of relevant questions.

You wished you could have stayed and watched all afternoon but eventually you had to go back to your own office and begin typing up your report.

You had barely gotten two paragraphs in when your phone started ringing.

“Moonshine?” Whiskey said as soon as you picked up and you could immediately tell that something was wrong. He sounded scared. There were car horns blaring and loud crashes in the background.

“Yes. Whiskey what's...”

Whiskey cut you off before you could finish your question.

“Where are you?” he asked and when it took you a fraction of a second too long to answer, he repeated the question, “Moonshine! Where are you?”

“I'm in the office. Whiskey what's wrong?”

“Good! Whatever you do, stay where you are! There's something in the air! People are killing each other!”

“What?” Before you could say anything further, your door burst open and you screamed from surprise.

“Moonshine!” Whiskey yelled, panicked, as Ginger stormed into the office and pushed you out of her way to get to the computer. She began tapping on the keyboard and you watched as she pulled up live feeds from several cameras around the country. Your mouth fell open as you watched the chaos that filled the screen.

“MOONSHINE!” Whiskey yelled again and you realized you hadn't answered him.

“I'm fine!” you quickly assured him and you heard him exhale loudly. “Ginger just showed up. What the hell is going on?” The last question was aimed at them both. The quality of the feeds wasn't the best but there was no mistaking what was going on. All over the country, people were killing each other.

“The fuck if I know,” Whiskey said at the same time as Ginger supplied the slightly more helpful “It's the same signal! It's the same low frequency as we picked up from the church. But this is all over...well the world”

She turned and looked at the phone in your hand.

“Is that agent Whiskey?”

You nodded but then froze as you heard a banging noise on the other end of the line, which sounded much closer than the previous ones. You heard Whiskey curse.

“Whiskey?”

There was another crash and he cursed again.

“I'm sorry, darlin', I seem to have a visitor. I gotta go.”

“Whiskey,” you begged and you heard your own voice break as you spoke his name.

“Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll deal with this and then I promise I'll come right home to you. You just promise to stay inside and stay safe, okay?”

What about you? you wanted to ask, but Whiskey had already hung up.

“He'll be fine,” said Ginger, who must have seen the expression change on your face. You nodded. She was right. Whiskey was an excellent agent. He would be fine.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 He would be fine. You managed to convince yourself of that up until about an hour later when the office phone called. You were too busy clutching your own phone, waiting for Whiskey to call back, to pay any attention to the other phone so Ginger picked it up and answered. She exchanged a few cryptic comments with the person on the other line before ending the call by saying:

“We'll be ready for him.”

After she'd hung up the phone she turned towards you.

“Whiskey's on his way back. He's been stabbed but according to the pilot, he's stable. They're flying him back now. “

[doodleswithangie]

NETFLIX PRESENTS: TRASHMOUTH Comedian Richie Tozier gives a crude and brutally honest take on growing up in a small town, retrograde amnesia, and facing your childhood fears in his new stand-up special. Starring: Richie Tozier Genres: Irreverent Stand-Up Comedy, Stand-Up Comedy, Comedies This movie is: Cynical, Witty, Irreverent

Part 4 of my unofficial Social Media AU, in which Richie’s Netflix Special makes waves, and he potentially breaks contract to share the last two minutes of his show.

[image description: a tweet from richie tozier with a video link to a clip of his stand-up special, captioned “idk if i’m allowed to do this but neflix can dm me later / this one’s for you trashmouth”. richie stands on a theater stage dressed in a red blazer set and black turtleneck. he tells the audience about a childhood run-in with a bully in which he was publicly humiliated in front of and ostracized from the rest of his grade after trying to befriend the bully’s male cousin. instead of keeping quiet, richie carves his and his best friend’s/crush’s initials into the town bridge, symbolically and literally making his mark on a town that left a mark on him. richie is grateful for the risk his younger self took in owning his identity despite the fear and ends the show by flipping off derry to the applause and laughter of his audience.]

full transcript under the cut:

1. People seem to think I grew up to be cynical when I was just as misanthropic as a kid. I mean, can you blame me? I was exposed to the worst of humanity from the get-go: middle school bullies. We all have our stories, right? 2. My bully carried around his police chief dad’s pocket knife and then committed patricide with said knife. I see the looks on all your faces but this is my show, and we do not have the time to get into that. Google it. 3. When I was like 13, that mullet-wearing prick saw me playing Street Fighter with his cousin in the arcade. Absolutely nothing was going on - I just wanted to hang out with this cool guy that I met, but I got thrown under the bus and he flipped his shit. 4. They both just flung slurs at me in front of half our grade. I just remember running out of there and collapsing on a park bench and thinking, “Fuck.” 5. Because it finally sunk in that this part of myself was not only very much not a phase, but also not as stealthily hidden as I’d thought. 6. It was, in fact, a glaring red flag to the rest of my small-brained peers that this kid was “different” - and we didn’t have Glee in the 80s, so “different” equaled “social pariah” and “victim of targeted bullying”. 7. This asshole probably thought he finally silenced the Trashmouth, that I’d double down on my dirty little secret and square it away under layers of repression. But joke’s on him. 8. Because the next day, I biked down to the local makeout spot. Every small town has one of those, right? The place that contributes more to a teen’s sex ed than actual sex ed? Derry’s was called “The Kissing Bridge”, and all up and down the path carved into the rotting wood were cutsey names in hearts - and just initials for secretly pining. 7. Well, I stole my dad’s pocket knife (sorry Wentworth) and scratched out an R for Richie and an E for Eddie - my best friend and the love of my 13 year old life. Hidden in plain sight, indistinguishable from those of the heterosexual lovers. 8. And the entire time, I kept looking over my shoulder, scared out of my mind someone would drive along and beat the shit out of me, but I didn’t stop until there were two letters and a crooked plus in between them. 9. And yeah, years later, fear took a hold of me again and threw me back in the closet for a few decades, but I’m still so proud of that kid. Because even though he was terrified, for the first time in his life, he owned who he was and the love that he had and I am so fucking grateful. 10. That permanent fuck you is still carved on that stupid bridge to this day. Derry may have left its mark on me, but I’d be damned if I didn’t leave one back. 11-12. (Richie flips off the camera to audience applause and laughter.) Thank you, New York! You’ve been a great audience! Good night!

[kalofi]

Ok probably should do more research for a solid theory but, immediate thoughts give me a few mini ideas cuz, as far as i know benrey hasnt really lied? like he straight up admitted to not being human immeidately. first video. So him lying about that is least likely i think. Second least likely is gordon having some kind of retrograde amnesia? He doesnt mention much of his past outside of wanting to be a streamer and his son joshua as far as i remember, but amnesia feels like a lazy solution. 1/?

YEAH YEAH YEAH i agree with this so hard. feel like before the "player" took over they were buddoes but yeah the player doesn't know that so he keeps denying it :) i feel like if we're going down the path of hlvrai really just being ALL a videogame, once the player "beats the game" and is no longer puppeting gordon, gordon just keeps the same mannerisms and personality as the player due to the amount of time he was piloted by them. so gordon still acts the same but is his own.... "person" now. theres actually a fic kinda like this its called uuuuhh black mesa bullshit. its rly rly good focuses on joshie as a narrator i love it