#see this is why i don’t go to the doctor unless i’m on death’s door. or my phone doesn’t work to call them. that as well

[fingertipsmp3]

If some idiot at the doctor’s gave me a cold right before I’m supposed to start my new job I swear I’m going to launch myself into space

[wildestdreamsblog]

Latibule Season 2: II

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)

Summary: In which he lost his latibule.

Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: A late valentine's gift <3 I’m so sorry for taking so long. A lot happened and work is the busiest and and and life.

Masterlist, Latibule 2.I

“Hyung, did you hear me? I said-"

Kim Namjoon sighed from the other line, headache already creeping up his temples from the boatload of information Jimin was dumping on him on the other line. As who he considered to be the only sound and sane one among the seven, Namjoon was accustomed to being the voice of reason, getting the boys out of tight illegal situations, and managing the members. Min Yoongi might be the head of the mafia, but all seven of them were leaders in their own right and fields.

Seokjin was the head of the medical field, Namjoon of the twisted world of law, Jungkook of the technology world.

And this definitely was one of Namjoon’s specialties: stopping the fearless and heart-stricken leader of Bangtan from kidnapping a woman in broad daylight. For fuck’s sake, he wasn’t even against the illegal act itself, but could he just do it when there weren’t eyes watching him?! When the sun wasn’t at its highest?! When he wouldn’t be tomorrow’s headline?!

He ran his hand through his disheveled hair, glaring at the eldest hyung who was chuckling to himself. Seriously, he thought doctors were supposed to have no life and no time to annoy their friends? Why then was the Chief of the hospital barging in his office and lounging on his fancy sofa?

“I’m glad you found this amusing, hyung,” he commented dryly which only made the eldest laughed harder. “This isn’t something to laugh about.”

“What?! We all know something is definitely wrong with Yoongi. This isn’t news to us! This only confirmed our suspicions!”

“You could at least be supportive of what he’s going through right now.”

“Namjoon,” he started when he was finally done laughing, wiping the tears from the side of his eyes. “How do you expect me to be supportive of him right now? He’s on the verge of kidnapping a woman because he thought she looked like her. Does that make sense to you?”

He tilted his head before standing up, his movement elegant as he crossed the room to where Namjoon was sitting behind his desk. He smiled down at him, his hand supporting his weight as he leaned down on his wooden desk. “Dead people don’t exactly come back to life after burning from a fire as immense as that one, do they?” he asked, his tone light yet his eyes held faux curiosity. And at that moment, an air of danger surrounded the office. He could see the coldness that reflected on Jin’s eyes.

Namjoon knew when to back down, especially when Jin was in this mood. It was almost comical how quickly Jin’s emotions could switch, and it was definitely not amusing how bloody the effects could be. He wasn’t exactly the mafia prince for nothing. He, of all people, knew how perceptive and strategic Jin was. Never once did he do anything without a reason. And precisely because of that that it took him a moment before he answered. He lowered his eyes for a second before returning to Jin’s now amused ones. “They don’t, hyung.”

Jin nodded before turning to leave, his hand was in his pocket, his stance relaxed as though nothing was amissed. He had opened the door when he paused as though he remembered something. He twisted his body, his eyes trained on the famous attorney before his lips twisted into an entertained smile. His finger was now resting on his lips.

“Ah, unless they’re actually not dead.”

—-

Min Yoongi was like a man possessed, never leaving any stones unturned as he religiously looked for his angel.

He looked at every single piece of record of the town that the town had, employed several people to look for you, searched every available CCTV to trace any evidence that you existed, that you weren’t merely a figment of his imagination, that you weren’t merely indication of his declining sanity. Yet all roads lead to nothingness.

It was like any leads he got were mere fragments, offering little clarity or direction in the investigation. Likewise, it seemed as if someone was making sure that he’d go nowhere with the little pieces of evidences he was able to gather of your existence.

As days turned to weeks and to months, he was starting to be convinced that you were just his imagination playing tricks on him, that his mind was just too cruel to conjure an image of you, that it was just too sick to think that you came back to him. In this moment of profound longing, when the ache of your absence weighed heavily on his twisted soul, he couldn’t help but ponder about his choices in life.

On some days when he missed you the most, he thought that this must have been his karma for living his fucked-up life brutally. On a day like this when he should have been celebrating your birthday, when you were supposed to turn a year older, when you were supposed to be by his side as you blew your candle, he thought that this must have been his penance, a consequence of the twisted journey he had decided to walk on.

But wasn’t this just too painful?

Wasn’t his punishment too cruel to have the world gave him you, only to wretch you away from his arms?

Wasn’t it too cruel to have loved and lost you?

Yoongi let out a humorless chuckle, the puffs of smoke coming from his lips as he looked at what once was your home. It was your birthday, and tomorrow was your second death anniversary.

How he survived the existence without you, he would never know. He decided that he would never stop looking for you because accepting that you were gone from this fucking earth was not an option. He could feel inside the dead heart of his that yours were still beating. He knew a love as immense as what he felt for you wouldn’t die as easily as that. No.

Min Yoongi would find you.

“Happy birthday, my angel,” he whispered to nothingness, only the moon bore witness to his greeting, the night enveloped him in a solitary embrace. The echoes of his sentiment lingered in the air, hoping that his words reached you where you were.

---

“Happy birthday, eomma,” Jung Hoseok finished the song lightly, clapping the chubby little hands of your son in sync with the tune of the song. Your son was giggling as he bounced him on his lap, looking over his long lashes to Hoseok.

“Careful, the candle’s just in front of you,” he warned before shuffling the cake an inch closer to you. He came home almost an hour ago from his work in the docks with a box of cake in his hands he bought. You could no longer count how many times the three of you moved over the year, the last one being the most suspicious to you when after you came home from the market, he had already packed your bags. Before you knew it, he was already driving away from the town.

You lived in so many places.

You never felt at home in any of them.

It was unfair how you only felt at home when you were in his arms.

You clutched your walking stick on one hand, the other cautiously running your hand on the table to detect the cake’s placement.

“I’m not fully blind yet, Hoseok,” you admonished him teasingly before closing your eyes and wishing with all your heart that your son grew up happy. You wished to the heavens that his fate was kinder to him, that he didn’t have to suffer the way you did. You prayed that his fate was free from the shadows that haunted your own past.

You wished that he could live the life he deserved.

“Eomma,” he called for you, lifting his chubby arms to go to you. Hoseok cooed at him before lifting him to your lap carefully. You felt the warmth of his little arms encircling your neck, tiny lips pressing sweet kisses on your cheeks before erupting into giggles. "Eomma!"

A smile graced your face as you soaked in the pure joy radiating from your beloved child. Leaning in, you planted a loving kiss on the person you now cherished most in the world. His eyes lit up in response, a mirror image of his father's, carrying the same warmth and affection he did when he looked at you.

Hoseok watched the two of you from his seat. It was almost comical how he loathed your son’s father with all his heart, only to love his son with the same intensity. If he couldn’t end that bastard brother of his, if he didn’t have it in him to finish the job and kill you, then he would just take the life Yoongi was supposed to live.

He would never let go of the two of you- not when he found peace in this little family. The only way he would let go of this was if the only person he loved came back to him. But that was impossible, right? After all, Yoongi made sure that she would cease to exist in this world.

Wasn’t this the crueler revenge, he thought. Wasn’t this what Min Yoongi deserved?

It was almost amusing to think how he could have been dead if not for one of his brothers that saved him and you that fateful night. He could have almost missed this little slice of heaven had it not been for his brother, the only one who knew that he was still alive.

---

Almost two years ago, somewhere in a small province of South Korea

You woke up with a start, your heart beating faster as evidenced by the spike in the heart monitor attached on your bruised skin. The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor, attached to your bruised skin, echoed in the room, its pace mirroring the accelerated beat of your heart. The sudden awareness left you momentarily disoriented, and the sterile environment around you hinted at the gravity of the situation. As your senses sharpened, you couldn't shake the feeling that the throbbing in your chest was not only from the abrupt awakening but also from the lingering echoes of a disconcerting dream or a painful reality.

Every single thing that happened went back to you.

Every single detail of that night, of the way he smiled so tenderly at you, of the way he softly told you that he would be back, of the way a strange man entered your house and threatened you.

The recollection was vivid, etched into your consciousness like a haunting melody.

You remembered the way Suga’s face became cold the moment he saw that man. You remembered not seeing even a trace of the man you loved.

You remembered the truth and the pain that came with it, and then you remembered thinking it was your end. Beyond it all, beyond all the betrayal, lies and deceit that unfolded, you remembered wishing that he would be fine after all of that like the fool you were.

Wincing, you lifted your fragile hand to your shoulder, feeling a faint pain where the bullet had pierced your skin.

“Don’t move,” a tired voice sounded on your left. Startled, you turned to look at the source, only to find the man who attempted to kill you leaning against the wall, his own arm bandaged, his handsome face colored with faint bruises.

Hoseok didn’t come out of it unscathed, no. He looked so hallow. It was like he was a lost child, like a man that lost his purpose, like he was a shell of what once was a soul.

He must have seen your alarmed expression. He waved his other arm, his jaw clenching from the events that transpired. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

You blinked at him, never trusting a word that came out of his mouth. It would be difficult for you when you saw how he unleashed hell that night.

“I-I,” you swallowed, your dried throat making it harder to speak. “d-don’t believe y-you.”

He watched you for a moment before nodding his head. That was fair, he thought. “How are you feeling? You’ve been unconscious for almost a month.”

What?

“Y-you waited that long to kill me?” you asked, your voice hoarse as you sat down. If he was going to end you, then you wouldn’t take it lying down.

Wordlessly, he crossed the room, lifting the glass of water on your bedside table, the straw turned to you. “Drink.”

You glared at him, distrust and anger in your eyes as you met his emotionless ones.

“I’m not going to kill you.”

You scoffed, turning your head away from him to look at where on earth you could have been. The hospital room was small, the window offering no clue as to your whereabouts. You wondered where Suga could have been.

Did he make it out alive?

Was he hurt?

Was he looking for you?

Did you want him to after what you knew?

“I do draw the line on killing expectant mothers.”

Latibule 2.III

[asche237]

You were just a bet (pt 2)

~Description:You found out you were just a bet and something happens to you that you couldn’t even believe it~

Doctor = Purple

You = Green

Pt 1

Warning: Mentions of deadly disease, some blood,and mentions of death(barley), if you are uncomfortable with these topics pls don’t read! (lmk if I miss any!)

After you heard everything you put the bag of food on the floor in front of the door not even bothering to knock or let Tengen and the others know you were there and you quickly walked out of the house. You ran quickly covering your face hoping everyone around you didn’t see your crying face. When you got home you fell onto the ground and bursted crying your eyes out when suddenly you coughed, which didn’t surprise you but when you opened your eyes you saw flower petals on the floor. You were confused on why there were flower petals on the floor but just then you cough again but more harshly and you see more flowers along with some blood.

You were confused and a bit concerned so you went to the bathroom and cleaned your face. After cleaning your face you go to a town doctor and after a while of talking and the doctor giving you worried looks by what you tell him he looks at you and says “I’m very sorry to tell you this but you have Hanahaki Disease…” you were confused on why he was so worried so you ask “what is Hanahaki Disease and why do you look so worried…?” The doctor then proceeded to tell you “A person can catch Hanahaki Disease when they experience unrequited love, meaning that the person they have a crush on doesn't love them back. From everything that you are telling me you might just have Hanahaki Disease…” You looked stunned and afraid. “Is there any way you can confirm this..? What if it’s a misunderstanding?” you spoke trying not to scream but you are panicking. “Now, please remain calm, to make sure this isn’t a misunderstanding I could run some tests right now. Would you like that?” The doctor says to you in a calm tone. “Yes please doctor…” you say trying to calm down.

After a couple of minutes of the doctor trying to get everything the doctor finally runs the tests and after 15 minutes of waiting the doctor comes back looking disappointed..? Or maybe sad… The doctor sighs and looks at you and says “I’m very sorry to inform you but you do have Hanahaki Disease.” You nearly cried “Okay… Okay doc is there anything you could do to cure this?” you asked hoping there was a way for you to live. “Sadly no unless you can get your crush to love you I’m sorry but there’s nothing I can do…” the doctor says. You sigh “Thank you for letting me know doc.” you say before you pay the doctor and begin walking home until you start coughing harshly and some blood along with some flower petals. You knew this wasn’t going to end good…

To be continued…

Taglist: @k-cris

Just for you to know if u wanna repost feel free to do so

[evansbby]

fuckkk this au is going to haunt me honestly feel like when ari realizes up until she dies is the angstiest moments

You remember when you used to clench his arms when he fucked you, stared into his eyes, hoping, please choose me. 

This is me trying. 

And you tried. With the baby. With everything.

Even if you died, you’d love the baby until your last breath. Then one day, Ari did a complete turn-around. The man who used to ignore you would bring dinner to you, massage your legs, give you a little more freedom to roam around. Ask where you were. Worry about you.

It was the baby, you knew that. 

At least when you were gone, he would love it to his very last breath, too.

“Are you heading out tonight?” You ask, shoving around the food on your plate. Your appetite’s disappeared drastically, and you force yourself to eat the nutrients for the baby—it’ll be bad if you didn’t—only to throw some of it up. Ari leaving for his ex-girlfriend didn’t help, but you can’t complain when you were the one who basically tore them apart, right? As a romanticist, you are the villain in the story: the least you could do is not complain when he leaves. 

The man in front of you—who you can’t believe you married—grunts. “I’ll be back.”

“Have fun with—” You pause. Are you two even close enough for you to call his ex-girlfriend’s name? Still his current lover. You mull over the last few weeks, where you headed to the doctor’s appointment together and ate dinner in respective silence. It was pretty nice, actually. The first dinner that Ari stayed through. He probably hated looking at you, but he did, for a whole hour and a half.

“Sharon,” you blurt as the man moves to open the door. “I genuinely mean it, I swear. I hope you have a good time with her.” 

The smile you’re wearing resembles more of a grimace, but it’s fine. It’s fine. At the very least, you wanted to be friends before the baby came. 

Ari pauses from where he is. Turns. His voice is low when he asks, “You think I’m visiting Sharon?”

It’s fine. He didn’t want you to know. It’s fine. 

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” you force out a laugh. “She did come first in your life, and I might have to concede to that. I mean, I’m sure that if I had a lover—”

“Fuck no,” his voice slices through and adds to the tense atmosphere. “You have someone else?”

Oh, God, this is awkward. And he looks ready to shoot you. “Uh, no, but I’m just saying that if you have one there’s nothing wrong with… it?” 

He stares at you for a few seconds. Clenches his jaw. “I’m not visiting fucking Sharon.”

The door slams in his wake. 

+

You must’ve been dreaming the moment. 

Writing in your diary, you place the pen to the side with a sigh. In your head, you’ve memorized the trace of Ari’s fingers across your face, pushing your hair back as he held you in your sleep. You can even feel the soft press of his lips as he kissed your forehead, the way he let you bury your face in his neck. 

Why was he acting this way? 

Another sigh—men. 

Flipping through the pages, you take out a photo. The ultrasound with your baby. A healthy boy, soon to be born. You smile and trace its small form. It’ll be a mini-Ari, that’s for sure. He’s already strong, kicking and moving about. 

It’s just a shame that you can’t see him grow. How much you loved him already. 

God. Hands trembling, you take in a deep, shaky breath. Just the thought of death make you scared like crazy, but the thought of not having a baby at all felt like someone was clenching your heart and twisting it. 

He’ll turn out okay. Both of them will. 

For now, you had to be strong for yourself. 

“Looking at the baby?” 

Your spine straightens at the sound of the voice, and you wipe your tears. “Yeah, it’s so cute, isn’t it? I bet he’ll be just like his dad.”

Ari is quiet for his moment as he enters the room, taking off his suit. “And not like his mom?”

“What?” You laugh. “Oh, um, I’m not sure. I don’t think there are very good qualities I have. Unless you’re talking about compassion. I mean, not that you don’t have compassion. I just think I’m a bit too much of a pushover. It’d be nice if he had more of an opinionated personality, so I don’t need to worry about him when…” When I’m gone. “When he’s a grown up and everything.” 

“That’s not true,” Ari says quietly. But his words are like a declaration. “We need more empathetic and gentle people to balance out people like me. To pull them back into the proper headspace.”

“Thanks,” you hesitate. “But I still think it’d be nice if you guys were a father-son duo.”

Ari’s mouth opens and closes. There’s an awkward silence when he goes to hang his outfit. It isn’t until he’s done and about to close the door that he says, “I hope he resembles you.” 

BESTIE??? HELLO??? Are you like… a certified author or something?? Bc this is so good and gripping and well written and LITERALLY WHO ARE YOU?? (you don’t have to tell me, just a hypothetical question since you sent this on anon obviously and I respect that haha)

This is so sad yet beautiful! I wish I could write like this, I can feel the push and pull within Ari!! PLEASE oh my god what the fuck

[sl-newsie]

Behind Masks (Dr. Jonathon Crane x OC) Ch. 4: Test Subject

“I’ve come to collect you for individual counseling.” Crane goes to grab my arm and I flinch away to stand in a fighting stance. “Very well, no armed escort is necessary as long as you play nice. You’re capable of walking cooperatively, right?”

I ignore his jeering tone and wave goodbye to Ivy and Nigma before walking down through another hallway. This one’s lit up better than the others and is much less noisy.

“You know where you’re going, Prentiss,” Crane observes from behind. “Care to explain why? You’ve never been inside Arkham before.”

“I may or may not have memorized the blueprints.”

Silence takes over. If I’m correct the interrogation- oh, old habits. The safe space room should be another three doors down and 5 to the left. It certainly is because the door I stop in front of is the one Crane unlocks when he catches up. The mirror attached to the wall outside leads me to believe it's used for police interrogations. The room I’m nudged into is smaller than all the others. Only a matching mirror, a simple desk, and two chairs take up space.

I don’t like it. Being on the other end of therapy. Back in Metropolis the facilities there are much more open and modernized. This place looks as if it’s going to swallow me whole and never let me see the light of day. And I’m supposed to be stuck in here with Crane for a whole hour?

“Take a seat please,” Crane instructs as he himself sits at the table and writes down more notes. “The date is October 2nd, the time is 11am Eastern Time. Therapy is now in session, Calico Prentiss.”

“Still waiting on that lawyer.”

“I see you still show reluctance to your situation,” Crane says simply. “How are you getting along with the other inmates?”

I bite my lip and stay strong to keep my gaze from dropping. “I’ll admit the company here is far better than what I had in Metropolis.”

“Interesting.” Crane’s icy blue eyes flash with hidden excitement. “And how has my, ah, treatment been acting?”

He’s going to be so disappointed. I’ll admit I’m still a bit skeptical of the toxin’s effects; however I can’t carry out the rest of my life limiting myself because I’m afraid to fail. 

“I’ve kept my head, Dr. Crane. There have been no new hallucinations or symptoms.”

My response takes a moment so set in. “I see.” 

Crane’s face shows no readable emotion; yet there’s no denying the aggravation itching under his skin. He goes to write more notes and I notice he’s holding the pen much tighter.

“You’re upset. Good.”

I cross my arms and lean back in my chair, victorious. There you have it, Dr. Crane. You can try to quiet me as much as you like but I won’t be the perfect patient you want me to be.

“My toxin hasn’t failed yet.” Now with a laid-back demeanor, Crane opens his briefcase and my mind races to the conclusion of what’s about to happen. “Maybe it’s time for a stronger dose-”

Bang bang!

A loud knock on the door startles both of us. It creaks open and a security guard pokes her head in.

“Dr. Crane, Rachel Dawes from the District Attorney’s Office is here to see you.”

The doctor takes a deep breath and regathers his thoughts. “Very well. We shall continue our session later, Prentiss.” He orders the guard to escort me back to my cell and leans in to whisper: “I suggest you keep quiet unless you want me to change your condition to a death sentence.”

Death. Something that used to bring back painful and guilty memories. Who knew that the loss of my parents would turn death into something so fascinating? The methods of death, the causes, the superstitions. Crane’s invitation of death might be the best thing that’s happened to me all day. 

In a fleeting moment I see a glimpse of a brown-haired woman in a black business suit turn around the corner. The D.A. lady!

“Help! Please! I’m not supposed to be here!” I grip the door and the guard tries to tug me away. My hope soars when I see the D.A. woman return with a confused look. “My name is Dr. Calico Prentiss from the Metropolis Hell’s Gate Psychiatric Institution! I am of sound mind and demand to speak to a lawyer- or at least just one person who’s not as corrupted as the rest of this insane city-!”

A cloth is shoved in my mouth and I feel something collide with my skull. I crumple to the ground and the guard gives a hard kick to my stomach for good measure. I stay like that for about 15 minutes and then hear familiar footsteps approaching. 

Crane kneels down and forces me against the wall, eyeing me with controlled anger.

“I don’t get mad often. But you seem to want to change that. For this I am going to subject you to special treatment.”

I’m pulled up to stand and Crane starts dragging me down the hall. Personal mortality is a personal understanding of one’s own mortality and acceptance of the fact that they are going to die. I now see that I will have to accept my death today. There’s no way I’m surviving after that stunt. 

“Special treatment? Like what? Electroshock therapy? Waterboarding? You know my worst fear is failure and that my parents are dead. What do I have to lose that death won���t deliver?”

The doctor tsks and waves a finger at me. “Oh, no. I’m not going to kill you. You could have had the same routine as the other inmates. But you couldn’t play the game, could you? Had to play the hero and try to tell the nice lawyer about the bad guy in the scary mask?" He acquires a vicious look in his eye. “No, I don’t think so.”

Crane forces me down several flights of stairs and I’m starting to lose track of where we are. I don’t remember this in the blueprints. Suddenly we stop and Crane uses a key to open a gate into another section of the building.

“Where are we?”

“In an abandoned wing of Arkham, where no one can hear you scream.” 

In the dark I see the gate close and hear the keys jiggling, locking me in. Before I can reach for something to defend myself, Crane flips on a dim, flickering light and locks in on me with a hungry gaze.

“You are my new lab rat, Calico Prentiss.”

So that’s it? I spend the rest of whatever time Crane gives me as a spare body for experiments. I should feel scared… But I’m not. 

“Knowing that your days are numbered gives your life a more powerful sense of meaning,” I say softly. “It sets a time limit to what we want to accomplish in life. If we didn’t have a limit on life we would never be motivated to do anything because life would go on forever.” The doctor’s perplexed expression shows I’ve caught his attention. “But my accomplishments have already been fulfilled, Dr. Jonathan Crane. I became a psychiatrist. I helped people. But in this sad, twisted world helping people only makes you a target.”

Grasping my nerves I step forward and accept my fate. “If my eventual death is to be for the use of science then so be it. But as Einstein said, time is relative. What might seem like a week to you seems like 10 years to me and visa versa. I’m more than capable of conjuring enough mental motivation to put up with whatever experiments you’ve got. Do your worst, Dr. Crane.”

My speech leaves the doctor wide-eyed as he keeps scanning me with curiosity. The first time he looked at me like that it felt unsettling, but now… Why do I feel encouraged to edge him on? It works because Crane’s advance has turned subtly gentle. 

“You are without a doubt one of the most unique patients I’ve discovered, even if you never were supposed to be one.” He holds out a hand as if he’s approaching a wild animal. “This doesn’t have to be as bad as you think. You need only cooperate and keep quiet. If you keep to that then I promise I won’t hurt you beyond my range of standards.”

Is he serious? He talks about being locked up and tested on as if it’s a simple business deal! 

“What exactly is your range of standards, Dr. Crane?”

He shrugs. “Being exposed to some toxins isn’t exactly the same as smelling a rose, dear. I can’t guarantee each dose will be merciful. But I will take precautions to prevent it, I assure you.”

This is seeming more and more like a discussion a surgeon has with their patient before undergoing surgery. If I didn’t know better I’d say he’s actually being… sympathetic. 

“And if I don’t cooperate then someone pays for the guards to look the other way and have someone bump me off?” Crane nods. I sigh heavily and consider my options. Compared to being beaten to a pulp in the street this doesn’t seem as brutal. And it’s in the name of science, which has never failed me before. “Very well. I will consent to your experiments, only if you let me back into group therapy. After each session I will return here.”

The doctor frowns. “Why return to group therapy? What guarantee do I have that you won’t tattle the second I let you back upstairs?”

“Because I am an ambivert, Dr. Crane. If you keep me locked down here with no other human contact then my mind will disorient and create inaccurate data for your tests. That, and I actually liked talking to Nigma and Ivy even if they’re not normal.”

“None of us here are normal, Dr. Prentiss,” Crane replies in a distant cold voice. 

I'm in way over my head. I never should have come to Gotham no matter how good the pay is. 

“However since you do make a fair point I will allow you 1 hour of group therapy each day.”

He budged. Is it just me or is Crane actually being nice? No, he just wants to dangle a carrot and make me play by the rules. Still, it’s a small win.

“Thank you, Dr. Crane.” 

“Try anything and I’ll arrange for you to live in constant terror for the rest of your life,” he responds in a laid-back tone and pats my shoulder before walking over and locking the gate behind him.

It’s no deal with the devil, yet why do I feel as if I’ve just signed my own death certificate?

[lycanlovingvampyre]

MAG 128 Relisten

Activity on my first listen: putting up a new fence.

BASIRA: "Jon. Don’t turn on the light. Go get Melanie, quickly." Get Melanie? For what? She’s not Buffy the Vampire Slayer anymore.

BREEKON: "That’s right. Just wanted to – to drop off a package." That pause after “Just wanted to”. He's so unsure of what he's doing...

JON: (with compulsion) "Why are you here?" BREEKON: "Dunno." (pause) "‘S not right, on my own. Not right. No point in doing it on my own." Breekon & Hope... Still a better love story than Twilight... (I like how TMA makes us feel for people and monsters who did terrible things. But in the end I guess we're all just human?)

BREEKON: "Make me." [AND ALL AT ONCE THERE’S A STRANGE SOUND, MUSICAL YET HOLLOW, AND IT SEEMS TO BE BUILDING TO –] JON: "Stop." Seriously this "strange sound, musical yet hollow" and then Jon putting a stop to it is actually really badass. How's that for recording enemies into submission!

BREEKON: "What are you – stop it. Stop it!" [WHEN THE ARCHIVIST SPEAKS, IT HAS AN ECHO TO IT, REMINISCENT OF THE HOLLOWNESS FROM EARLIER:] JON: "No." Yes Jon, show 'em you're not everyone’s punching bag anymore!

I btw also always thought Breekon just couldn't stand the gaze of Jon anymore and fled the Archives, perhaps tossing over a table or a chair in his way and slamming some doors (Does this count as door motif? Oh, when we're on the subject of slamming doors! There is a video of Sam Sam the music man breaking down the TMA main theme and he said those smashing sounds at the end of the theme are supposed to be slamming a door! Just because it's such a stereotypical thing for the horror genre - see MAG 85 Upon the Stair "And please don't slam the door". Such a fitting coincidence! But I already said in one of those Relisten posts, coincidences like this happened a lot more often than people probably think, it's a blessing for artists!) Ok, lost the thread a bit there. I think the image of the telekinesis comes from the fact, that we don't really hear any footsteps? (And I think, people wanted to give Jon a bit more badassary probably? He's demonstrating it so well already in this scene, why not go a bit further xD I generally like it, but I think it doesn't really fit into canon, he'd be too op.) Thing about footsteps in TMA is it's a bit inconsistent until S5? This has bothered me in a few instances before, like the end of MAG 21, when Martin storms into Jon's office. We only hear the door and the squelching of the worms. No out of breath sound aaand no footsteps. There was another one when I thought it's really missing footsteps, god I can't remember what it was... What I'm saying is, I wouldn't really get hung up on (the lack of) footsteps here.

"We started in a plague." / "It wasn’t the plague they feared; it wasn’t the death that waited in our wagon. It was us. Two strangers rolling towards them, unstoppable and uncertain, wearing faces they would only half-remember, bringing a fate they would beg their god to forget." Hm, wearing faces they would only half-remember... Strangers at the time of the plague I’d think more of those masks plague doctors wore - being literally unable to see their faces.

"Poor wretches who emerged from Millbank, with tales of Australia and its cruelties on their lips, bundled into the cramped and creaking ship that would drag them away from everything they loved. And towards everything they feared. That was the first time we saw what would become this place: The Eye’s Pedestal." Hold on, wait! Is that another reference that Millbank Prison was a place of power for the Eye? The Robert Small was a convict ship and (Western) Australia was a penal colony of the British Empire..

"We were conductors on a train, prim suits and scowls, a relentless beast of iron and steam that never seemed to get you exactly where you wanted to be unless there was something dreadful waiting for you. We punched tickets, ignored questions, and threw off those who looked like they were having too fine a time of it." Lol, is that a dig at public transports? xD

"We carried and lifted and helped the circus move towards its next destination, the next doomed town." Makes me think that they probably would have made superb roadies!

"Sometimes we joined the show, lifting weights and things that looked like animals. Sometimes we lifted members of the audience. Sometimes we even put them down again." First of all, lol, that last sentence. Second, throwback to MAG 24 - the two strong-men!

"And so we took the casket, a hungry thing of the earth, a crushing, choking tomb that will not let you die because it is too much what it is for death to find you there" “Too much what it is for death to find you there”... Saying the End has no grasp within the coffin. And not just the End because Daisy also lost her connection to the Hunt in the coffin. Eye + Web being the only ones with a chance to make it out.

"It was one like us that found it, a thing of shifting names and deja-vu. A fool, that believed because it found the coffin in chains, it would be an easy thing to control, to bargain with." Confirmation that MAG 2's "John" was a capital-S Stranger.

"She took him from me, made us a me." Still a better love story than Twilight!!!

"And she doesn’t get to die for that. She gets to live, trapped and helpless, and entombed forever." There are fates worse than death-trope.

"I have never known hate before. I have never known loss. But now they are with me always, and I desire nothing but to share them with you." Still a better-

JON: (voice shaky) "Statement.. ends." [HE COLLAPSES.] Since Melanie makes fun of Jon in MAG 189 about him collapsing again I have the headcanon that Melanie came across collapsed Jon, was like "Alright then" and just left again. (Maybe she went to tell Basira.)

BASIRA: (inhale, set) "Right. Keep it safe; I’ll be gone a few days. I have some leads I need to follow up." Oh, that (whatever that was exactly) was what Elias was proposing to Basira at the end of the previous episode, not his actual plans about the coffin. Alright, gotcha, I'm on track again!

@a-mag-a-day

[letsbenditlikebennett]

TIMING: Beginning of September PARTIES: @kadavernagh & @letsbenditlikebennett SUMMARY: When Regan finds out that Alex was shot and refuses to go to a hospital, the medical examiner finally, and after much exasperation, tells her to come by the morgue to get her wound checked out. CONTENT: Self harm

The whole way over to the morgue, Alex reasoned with herself that this was a better call than going to a hospital. She was pretty sure that hospitals had to report gunshot wounds and the new additions would likely raise more questions than she truly wanted to answer. She’d toyed around with the idea of not going to the morgue at all, but after the full moon hit, that wasn’t really an option unless she wanted to tell Kaden she’d all but beat herself up in the bunker and opened her own stitches. 

Of course, it wasn’t quite that simple. The restless energy that had coursed through the werewolf the previous night was There had been no sitting still after she’d gone through all of her prey and was left with a suffocating, empty bunker. Somehow that energy manifested in the form of an itch she couldn’t quite scratch and an inability to sit still. The scrapes, scratches, and bruises that painted her limbs had been evidence last night’s full moon had been anything but normal. She wasn’t sure what Dr. Kavanagh would make of it, but what was important was that Kaden was none the wiser. Alex knew her cousin would find a way to blame himself for it somehow. 

The morgue had that clean chemical smell to it as she made her way toward Regan’s office. Even the chill in the air felt pretty standard for what the facility was meant for. Alex didn’t think keeping dead bodies in a hot building would be fun for anyone involved. Something about the death made her a little uneasy considering the role it had been playing in her life lately, but this was a doctor’s visit… which somehow was not any better. She waved uncertainly toward the receptionist. “I’m here to see a Dr. Kavanagh?” 

The call from Marcy was expected though not entirely welcome. “There’s a young lady here to see you. She limped in. I’m pretty sure she’s not dead yet, so I don’t know why she’s asking for you. You ever going to explain that to me? While you’re at it, if you’re seeing live patients, can you check out a mole on my shoulder?” Regan shuffled through the list of possibilities in her head and landed on precisely who this must have been. Kaden’s child cousin. Alex. Possibly with a bullet in her body. The thought was a wave of ice and reminded her to steel herself. She had seen far worse in the living and especially in the dead, and her equanimity could not waver.

In the lobby, there was once again only one possibility of who was there to see her. Regan wished for not the first time that she could shed this cinniúint-thréigean coat. “Come.” She didn’t look at the child beyond the flash of red hair she’d caught in the corner of her eye, though she wanted to observe her. The chilly reception (or at least chillier than usual) was petty, she knew, but the morgue was not a hospital, and it was maddening that the Langley family seemed to treat it like one. Kaden was putain enough. Now there were two. 

“Cad tá mé ag dul a dhéanamh leat?” Regan found herself muttering a question Cliodhna had muttered herself on a near daily basis, regarding her granddaughter with worn resignation. Regan had understood the question to really mean, “what good are you?” when it had been directed at her. Outside her office, she finally turned to meet the child’s eyes. She was young, but the tight expression on her face – masking pain, Regan thought – and dotting of scrapes and contusions across her skin suggested she was older than her years. Regan’s eyes narrowed, though not unkindly. She carded the door open. “Sit down, explain everything to me, and give me a very good reason why I should not be sending you to the hospital.”

The medical examiner was not a particularly large woman, but the way she moved around and commanded respect made her seem larger than life. It made Alex feel smaller than she already was, which was pretty damn small considering she’d been the same height since she was like eleven years old. She supposed she also shouldn’t have been thrown off by the cold way the doctor addressed her either, but something about it still made her wince and hold on tighter to the edges of the flannel she had all but wrapped around herself at that point. Dr. Kavanagh wasn’t even overly harsh. Her eyes definitely weren’t cruel, the werewolf just already felt exposed. Ashamed. Because hadn’t she been taught to tend to her own wounds like Andy and Kaden had? 

“Hospitals are for humans,” Alex answered as if it was obvious. It was a show, but not a very good one. Her fingers fumbled over the hem of the green plaid and she knew she’d need to give a better answer than that. This had been a bad idea, but the full moon had only made things worse. “Kaden mentioned the mutated animal thing. When I was shot, I didn’t look like a person. I look like one now… but I’m still not.” 

The word monster was practically at the tip of her tongue, but Alex wasn’t sure that one wouldn’t get her carted right off to the hospital. She wasn’t entirely sure how much Regan knew, but some of her oddities seemed to indicate she should know something. Especially considering she probably saw some pretty strange deaths. She shifted nervously on her feet and only slightly cringed when the movement caused pain. “Uh,” she started, “Everything… well, I was… mutated. And someone shot me. Then the full moon happened and I lock myself in a bunker so mutated me doesn’t…” 

She looked down at her feet. Alex couldn’t even speak what she knew she was capable of. “Think I had a bit of a panic attack while mutated,” she mumbled, not quite meeting Dr. Kavanagh’s eyes as she rolled up her sleeves to show various bruises, scrapes, and scratches, “My cla– nails get really long. That’s the uh… scratches.” 

What were the odds the doctor would buy that one? It was the truth, but the truth was often harder to believe than a really good lie. 

“They are, yes, and I’m not about to do any procedures that couldn’t be done on a human.” Regan rolled her eyes. Why did everyone think they were some exception to going to the hospital? Why people thought they weren’t human was another question, but one Regan knew she wasn’t going to move the needle on. “Just as morgues are for humans, by the way. But for whatever reason you find this more palatable, and I just want you examined by someone.”

But with some recent context, Alex’s explanation made Regan’s thoughts immediately turn to Gael. This sounded like… what was it he’d called it? Wolfitis? No, lycanthropy. Did the two of them know each other? That question made her brow crease. Regan wasn’t sure she liked that, especially if this child was one of the people trying to spoon feed him all of this strange terminology, all of these lies. Gael had mentioned precisely this, though – someone who had locked themselves in a bunker and injured themselves in there.

Other questions cascaded from there. If Alex was shot because of this… mutation, and she had the same illness as Gael, could this have been the individual Gael was warned about, the one targeting people with this specific health condition? That was a sobering thought.

Regan realized she had been silent for some time. She gave the child a nod and stretched her gloves over her hands. The girl was nervous, almost trembling, and she had never been great at putting people at ease. Though Regan suspected some of it was that Alex was talking to a doctor about any of this at all. Perhaps she could help ameliorate that fear. “I might be familiar with your condition.” Regan looked down at her then took a seat across from the girl. She knew she’d need to be on her feet shortly, but she had learned in interacting with next of kin and patients that they felt more comfortable on the same level. “My condolences that you are afflicted. I am close to someone who–” With a jolt, she comprehended what had come out of her mouth, and she cleared her throat, wiggled uncomfortably in her coat. “I have an acquaintance who may have the same ailment. He handles it differently than you.” Regan waved a hand as if to dismiss any talk of Gael. Her stomach felt like a hot pit. Acquaintance was correct. Fearg an chinniúint, why had she not said that first?

As Alex rolled up her sleeves, it at least gave Regan something else to focus on. Something comfortable, something she knew. Something that wouldn’t dip into the unfamiliar territory of acquaintance-plus relationships. Regan surveyed the girl’s skin. Alex was pretty scraped up, pretty bruised, but Regan didn’t see anything demanding her attention. She spoke after a moment, not rudely, but also not dancing around the point. “We both know I’m not interested in seeing minor incised wounds on your extremities. Will you show me the gunshot wound?”

“Palatable,” Alex murmured, “Right…” She wasn’t exactly sure she considered this trip to the morgue palatable. If it hadn’t been for the way she chewed at her wound during the full moon, she wouldn’t be here at all despite the fact Dr. Kavanagh had practically demanded she come get checked out if she wasn’t going to a hospital. There was also no way in hell that Alex was willingly going to a hospital, so here she was at the morgue, letting Regan in all her tame exasperation check out the re-opened stitches that she refused to show Kaden. She wondered if doctor-patient confidentiality applied here because she’d really rather this not get back to Kaden, but Alex wasn’t so sure she should be pushing her luck here. 

Nerves made it hard for Alex to look up and meet the medical examiner’s eyes. Instead, her gaze wandered over the half packed boxes that were strewn across the office. She remembered Regan vaguely speaking of leaving when she had offered up those books, but that had felt like a whole lifetime ago. 

“You are familiar with it,” Alex perked up. It was hardly an admission that the doctor believed in the supernatural, but at least she thought it was plausible. Maybe that meant she didn’t think Alex was completely insane. “How does he handle it,” she asked, genuinely curious. Given her own debacle with the bunker this month, she knew she had to be open to ideas even if she wasn’t sure they’d actually be good ideas. 

It wasn’t surprising to Alex that the medical examiner wanted her to get right to showing her the worst of her injuries. The gunshot wound was why she was here and why Regan was frustrated with her for not seeing a doctor at a hospital. Still, she swallowed nervously as she pulled down the hem of the cargo pants she was wearing to reveal where the bullet had grazed her left hip. The stitches looked about as chewed through as they were and fresh blood had dried up around it. Even looking at it made her feel light-headed and she cursed herself. “Uh, this is it. Do I…” She trailed off, unsure of what she was supposed to do. She couldn’t recall ever having gone to an actual medical professional. 

“I’ll tell you about it shortly,” Regan said, knowing what lay ahead better than Alex, and knowing she’d be grateful for the distraction. “For now, just stay still.” She gave the site a careful look, as one might assess the virtues of a renowned painting in an art museum. To her, there was beauty in such an ugly thing. But the fact it was on a live human being tainted such a lovely show of anatomy. It was immediately clear that Alex should have gone to a hospital. But the wound could have been much worse, all things considered; the bullet had grazed her, not hitting bone or even really leaving a full entry wound. But any bullet at any distance could be lethal, or disfiguring at a minimum, and Regan was sure this one had caused great pain. 

And then there was the attempt to fix this. The sutures were chewed up, mangled, almost as bloodied a sight as the wound they were poorly tethering closed. They couldn’t have started off that way (even if they were poorly-applied then, too). It looked like an animal had done this. She was sure Alex wouldn’t give her the truth as to how this happened, even if perhaps she thought she was giving it. There was one other remarkable thing: the bubbling blisters surrounding the margins of the wound, as if the bullet that struck her had also burned her skin. It was true bullets were heated as they were fired, this appeared to be something more. Like her skin had rejected the material of the bullet. She thought of her own hands, scarred with iron discipline, and a connection was sparked only to be swiftly rejected. Alex was not fae.

Regan hissed a breath of air through her teeth and finally turned up and away from the wound, looking Alex in the face. “The good news is that there’s no sign of an infection. But… well, first of all, you need new stitches, which means removing the current ones, which will hurt considerably. I apologize in advance.” Alex wouldn’t want to be standing for that. And her wiggling would make things harder. Regan sighed, her eyes flicking over the table. At what point did it make sense for her to invest in a procedure chair for her office? That would be a fun one to explain to the higher ups. For now, she made due with pushing the table directly up against one of the chairs. It was a sturdy thing. It would hold. “Can you lie down on there? I’m going to apply new ones after I remove the old. Do you think you can keep still?”

“Appreciate it,” Alex responded kindly, “And I can manage that.” It might make her light-headed and nauseated, but she could sit still through the pain. Her parents had made certain of that even if she had never been graced with the accelerated healing to go along with the hunter training. It didn’t change the way her heart felt like it was pounding in her ears rather than her chest. She almost wished Dr. Kavanagh would explain now and put off the inevitable, but the wound the silver bullet left behind was the reason she was here. With how she chewed through the stitches, she wasn’t even sure it was in a state Kaden could deal with and she didn’t want him to. He’d only worry and that protective streak he had would only grow. 

Alex chewed at her bottom lip nervously as she watched Regan move one of the tables up to a chair. The office wasn’t set up for patients of the living variety which made sense considering it was a morgue. Somehow, that still seemed better than a hospital and the inevitable questions they would ask. Not that Regan didn’t have questions, but she seemed to consider the possibilities of mutants. Werewolves were kind of mutants, just not the superhero kind like Phoenix and Cyclops.

“Kind of figured,” she nodded, “Both on the new stitches and the pain. It’s fine.” It was not fine. As she sat down in the chair, she already felt the sweat begin to pool in her palms and across her brow. If her lip hadn’t gone right back to its place between her teeth she was fairly certain it would also be quivering. Even if she wore a brave face, Regan was a doctor. Physiological evidence would tell her everything she needed to know and it brought the werewolf a great deal of shame. If it wasn’t so damn sad, it’d almost be laughable that a monster was shaking in her boots over a medical examination. She laid down on the table and something about the fluorescents shining down made her want to crawl out of her skin again, but she was sure to stay still as a log. “Ok, I’m ready when you are,” she breathed out through gritted teeth. 

Regan worked swiftly and adeptly. And though Alex was shaking, she did eventually seem to calm herself down. It was easier once the worst was over – removing what remains of the old stitches. Putting the new ones in was easy by comparison, though Alex still wouldn’t appreciate the feel of the needle on what was still a rather raw wound. She wasn’t great at distracting patients during procedures – usually any distraction would fall on dead ears – but she would try. “That acquaintance I mentioned. He… camps.” That hardly sounded like a solution at all, saying it aloud. She wondered if it would sound just as foolish to Alex. “It might not be precisely the same ailment you’re dealing with. I don’t know if you sleepwalk. But he seems to think that things are better when he camps, rather than being confined to his bedroom.” Either way, though, Gael seemed to wake up with blood under his fingernails and a dead animal carcass or two nearby. 

As she finished up the last of the stitches, she seemed to grow heavier. Camping was helping. She wasn’t sure she could say the same anymore, given that Gael was attacked by some animal last time. Almost fatal. The maddening man thought he was lucky that the creature had just missed clamping down on his spine, but Regan didn’t believe in luck, and even if she did, what was lucky about almost dying? “I’m not suggesting you camp in the woods,” Regan clarified, “It didn’t go so well for him last time. There are too many dangerous animals lurking about. Bears. Coyotes. Screaming moose.”

While the explanation did little to clarify anything for Alex, listening to the medical examiner talk was a welcome distraction to the increasingly unbearable pain in her hip as the wound was tended to. Some of it sounded vaguely familiar. If asked, she would probably tell those who weren’t in the know about werewolves that she was going to be camping that night. It was close enough to the truth, hiking out deep into the woods to turn into wolf-monster and eat dinner/sleep was basically camping, was it not? The sleepwalking bit was curious and made her wonder if Gael was her acquaintance. “Camping,” she said through gritted teeth, “Wanted to give that a try myself.”

There were more questions, but none came to mind as Alex made a concentrated effort to remain still and keep her limbs from trembling. It worked well enough for her legs, but her hands were shaking under the sleeves of her jacket ever so slightly. So she let the thought of further questioning go until Regan finished up the last of the stitches. Even then, she needed a moment to recover and only barely caught the doctor saying that she didn’t recommend camping. 

“Not worried about coyotes and bears,” Alex explained, “Could live without the screaming moose, though I’ve never actually seen one scream.” It didn’t seem like the point. She knew Dr. Kavanagh was pointing out the dangers that lurked in the woods, but even with the context of her having some sort of mutation, she didn’t think the doctor realized that she was one of the dangers in the woods if she was out there. “Mutation kind of,” she trailed off, unsure of how to explain it, “Gives me some protection there. And me being deep out in the woods is a lot safer for everyone else. Mutation is… weird.” 

It’d be a lot easier to just say werewolf, but Alex wasn’t too sure how well that one would fly. “But you mentioned sleep-walking… the person you know doesn’t happen to be a chemistry professor, does he?” 

“Do you know who else thought they could deal with the coyotes and bears?” Alex probably saw where this was going but Regan continued anyway. “At least a hundred of my decedents, probably more. And I haven’t even worked here a full year yet.” Regan sometimes needed to remind herself that she had nothing to fear from anything, that no wild animal could harm her, but most people were the opposite; they held more confidence than they had the right. “Whatever capabilities you have were not enough to protect you from your assailant, nor whatever chewed you up after.” Nor Gael, from the animal that almost took his life last time he went camping. Speaking of… did Alex know?

Yes, she knew Gael. And now Regan couldn’t help but wonder if the mutated child in front of her was one of the scores of individuals who had been trying to convince Gael he was a werewolf. Something clenched in her chest, and she itched with discomfort. Caring was such a bothersome thing. She kept her voice stoic so as not to betray that Alex was correct. “Rather inappropriate to try and figure out which individual I’m referring to, don’t you think?” She raised a brow as sharply as the needle and finished up the last of the sutures. “Fortunately for you, I will not fault nosiness, as I exhibit plenty of my own. But you won’t get your answer from me.” If she wanted to ask Gael, that was her prerogative. For a second – a second too long – she entertained how Gael might refer to her as something other than an acquaintance, and the thought made bile bloom in her stomach. 

“There. You are done.” Regan rose to her feet and gave Alex a self-satisfied look. “Now, are you going to tell me why you allowed an animal to chew on your first set of stitches? Because I don’t want a repeat of that. You will not enjoy that, either.” Regan had a feeling Alex would either tell her nothing at all, or make up some outlandish story involving werewolves and vampires and ghosts. She had to wonder if a doctor in the ED would have been able to coax out the truth, or at least more of the truth than Regan could get. The dead were more honest, every time.

When it came to Wicked’s Rest, coyotes and bears were the least of her worries. Even though most bears had considerable size on Alex they still didn’t stand much of a chance against a werewolf. Maybe if grizzlies were in the area, she’d be slightly more concerned, but as it stood, the standard wildlife of Maine seemed safer than literally ripping herself apart in the bunker. It seemed like the extent of her ‘mutation’ wasn’t exactly clicking with the medical examiner though and she wasn’t even sure how to explain her choice to camp in a way that would make sense. “Well, still safer than the alternative,” she shrugged, “And that was different. Someone like him would have found me anywhere… and nothing chewed through my stitches.”

Not that she was sure that Regan would believe her. Alex was a bit more on the monstrous canine side when she had in fact chewed through her stitches. That wasn’t nothing, that was just herself having a little werewolf panic attack in a bunker. Even if she had the energy to explain following having her stitches removed and replaced, it wasn’t like there was an explanation that most would find reasonable… hence, why she hadn’t gone to a hospital. 

Though she was quickly reminded of the medical nature of her visit when Regan shut down her question about Gael. When most of the patients were dead, Alex thought it was easy enough to forget about the whole patient/doctor confidentiality thing… but she was alive. Gael was also alive. “Right,” she stammered, looking down in embarrassment, “Forgot the whole doctor patient confidentiality thing… Only heard of it in theory, never in practice.” 

Given, Alex hadn’t actually ever been to a normal doctor. At least Dr. Kavanagh wasn’t going to hold her question against her. The delivery was still cold, but there was something of understanding in it too. Even though cold sweat still clung to her skin, she smiled, “It’s scientific curiosity. We both like to understand things… and okay, maybe a little bit of it is nosiness.” 

Of course, the question of what happened to her stitches came and the truth was Alex didn’t have a good explanation. Even if she hadn’t done it to herself, the state of her injury did in fact imply she let something do this to her. But Regan talked about mutations… maybe she could hint at the truth. She ran a sweaty palm through her tangled hair and looked down at her lap. “I didn’t let anything chew through them,” she answered nervously, “I was locked in a bunker alone. I did this to me… while I was sleepwalking.” 

“And I’ll grant you the same privacy… mostly.” Regan had already decided she’d make an exception and tell Kaden about this. They were cousins. And from where she was standing, Kaden was the responsible adult, the one who should have insisted that Alex be placed in front of an emergency room physician. But the man was too stuck in his own phobia to help her. Oh, yes, she certainly had some words for him. Náireach bórd.

Sleepwalking. There it was. Her thoughts turned to Gael once more, and an exhausted sigh swelled in her lungs. At this point, both Alex and Gael were viewing reality through such distorted lenses she wasn’t sure which of them was correct about any aspect of this illness. “Lycanthropy,” she could rule out. But short of that, anything else was on the table. And unfortunately, it wasn’t an autopsy table. That would be too easy. Regan rolled her gloves off and discarded them, keeping her eyes on Alex. “That isn’t physically possible. You can’t chew through something on your hip. I have never known anyone to be that flexible. If you’re going to argue otherwise, then I ask that you show me right now.” But that would not happen, she was sure of it. “And if you were asleep, how do you know what happened?” Regan raised a brow, a moment of triumph settling over her face before she realized the unknown still loomed.

She also realized that, sometimes, there was no winning. Regan sighed, her shoulders tensing. Briefly, she considered extending a hand to Alex to help her off the chair, but she had already removed her gloves. “How does it feel? Is your movement alright?” She gave Alex a sharp look. The commanding eye of a doctor who knows patients will almost always act against medical advice. “Be good to your hip. No vigorous exercise for at least eight weeks. Light exercise is acceptable after four. Keep the site clean. Tell me if it begins to smell like an infection or leak fluids.” Her gaze softened, only slightly. “I do not have lollipops. They would have given you one at the hospital. Go there, next time.”

Mostly. Alex wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to know what that meant, but she hoped it meant that Kaden wasn’t going to find out about her stitches being chewed through. He knew something was up and realistically she knew she could only avoid it for so long. Kaden was a stubborn pain in the ass like that. No matter how hard she tried to push, he kept being there. Almost annoyingly so, but that was more her frustration than anything else. So instead of getting clarification, she simply shrugged. She couldn’t get an answer she didn’t like if she didn’t ask the question. It was a sound philosophy as far as she was concerned. 

“Some people call it that, yeah,” Alex mumbled. It wasn’t like she could exactly prove her point. Even if she had mastered shifting outside the moon, it wasn’t like she was going to turn into a large wolf monster in the middle of the damn morgue. With how seriously Regan took her job, she was pretty sure the doctor would not be even remotely chill about an animal in her otherwise pristine office. Part of her wished Regan could understand, she wanted the doctor to believe her, but she wasn’t going to push. Instead, she shrugged. “Like this jacket too much to ruin it.” 

Alex stood up from the chair and grimaced slightly. Even if she wanted to, vigorous activity was definitely not on the table. She let out a pained laugh. “Think I can manage skipping the heavy physical activity. But noted on all of the above,” she paused, “I appreciate you taking the time to fix the stitches back up.” Then, there was something a little less cold in Dr. Kavanagh’s gaze, but she was fairly certain that was wishful thinking. Still, the ‘not joke’ was humorous. “Yeah, yeah,” she shook her head as she headed toward the door, “Think I’m a little old to bribe with lollipops… but sentiment is noted and appreciated.”

Was she ever going to willingly go to a hospital? Not a chance. Alex figured if she had more than one conversation ever with Kaden, the doctor probably already knew as much. She figured she could at least try to keep herself out of trouble so that word of an injury didn’t get back to Regan again. 

[lost-technology]

Survivor’s Guilt Ch. 2

Trigun fanfiction Trigun Stampede universe (with some Trigun Maximum elements) Rated T / PG-13 for graphic descriptions, canon-typical violence Gen, unless pairings come into it later Multichaptered, unknown stopping point, chapter 1. Main characters: Vash, Luida, Brad, Rem, Nai / Millions Knives and the horrible lingering memory of Tesla. Summary: The stars fell from the sky upon a lonely desert planet. The world was made of blood, sand and broken glass - and later on, gunsmoke. What could have been a paradise had become a violent world, one of hard-bitten, traumatized survivors…Including… the most unexpected. Rem Saverem survives the apocalypse.   Also found here - Chapter 2 on AO3    Chapter 1   Chapter 2 - Useful Things

Survivor’s Guilt Chapter 2:  Useful Things There was a breakthrough with Vash – he had begun eating again.  He still was not eating enough, but he had started picking at his food.  With everything that was going on, he did not “feel” like eating, but, at the very least, he was no longer intent on starving himself to death.  Rem was in Ship 3’s hospital and she needed him.   If they would let him see her… “Luida?” he asked as she was standing outside of his cell door.   “She’s still hanging in there,” Luida responded with a soft voice.  “The medical staff say that she’s quite the fighter.  She hasn’t been awake very much, but when she has been, she’s been asking after you.”   “I need to see her!” Vash insisted.  “Why won’t you let me see her?!”   “I’m sorry, Vash,” Luida said, “The doctors have deemed your presence ‘potentially upsetting’ after the incident. “Rem is in a delicate state.”   “You don’t understand!” Vash whined, “You’re probably upsetting her more by keeping us apart!”   “I’ve been trying, Vash,” Luida sighed. “But it’s not up to me. Most people on the ship are still worried about…what you are.” Vash sat down on his cot, sullen.  “I haven’t broken any of the rules here, at least I don’t think I have.”   There was silence between them for several moments – the boy inside the cell and the woman outside of the door.   “Vash, I think you should know this...”   Vash’s blood ran cold at the specific tone of her voice.  It was one of those “bad news” tones.  He allowed her to continue. “Rem is in bad shape.  It is a miracle that she’s survived all this time – that she escaped the crash alive at all, let alone all that time spent under ship-rubble.  We think she was cushioned in an air-pocket in the Command Room upon atmosphere-entry.  From what she could tell us, she lived off a muddy puddle from a broken hydroplant pipe and crawled into the shade.  Her right leg was mangled – broken in several places.  There was no choice but to amputate.  Her right eye was damaged, too.  She’ll never regain sight in it. There was damage to several internal organs. She is doing very well for the condition we found her in, but… Vash… she might not make it.”   “I have to see her!”   “I’m doing all I can, Vash.  We will keep you updated.”  

_______________________ Vash did not know what time it was and was fuzzy on the day when the trill shot through his head.  The lights were dim, like nighttime or early morning and he was in a fitful sleep.  He heard the screaming, but it was not a human scream.  It was in his mind, piercing his brain.  A sense of terror curled around his bones.   It was his sister – not the one that lived large in his darkest memories, lost in the name of “science” and cut apart – but one living and nearby.  He could feel the presence of every Plant on Ship 3, just as he had on Ship 5.  It wasn’t like being in the presence of Nai, or of Rem, or of Luida or Brad.  It was a gentler, less direct presence, a low hum, a sense of warmth.  It was something quiet, perhaps akin – regarding an equivalent feeling for a human – to having a quiet pet in the room, a sweet but silent cat resting on one’s bed when one is reading or having some flora in a pot nearby – the sense of being around something you cannot converse directly with, but the sense of having a living being near, all the same.   Only, right now, Vash felt the distinct voice of one sister, and she was anything but a silent presence.   Sirens were sounding in the ship and the lights went red.  Vash could hear the clatter of boots on metal in the corridors outside, people running down the hallways, alerted to danger.  Immediately, he was up and banging on the door, desperate to alert his guards.   “HELP!” he cried.  “It’s dying! The Plant is dying!  Can’t you hear it?  Help! Let me out!” Maybe if he could get the attention of people – someone, anyone – they would be able to help the Plant.  As it was, the Plant warbled and spoke into his mind, calling out for fellow sisters and calling out for him.  Something had gone wrong in her systems.  The temperature-regulation was off.  She’d been running against the hot air of this planet for weeks and the strain had caused hairline cracks in her energy-gate. She was calling for him.  If Plants spoke like humans, Vash might tell you that she was calling him “Little One,” but they did not speak like humans, so her terrified trill was more like singing.  The agony-song was like the scream of a Banshee.   A small sense of relief flooded him when he saw Luida’s face beyond his cell.  He continued to throw himself against the door.  “Please! I need to see the Plant!  It’s dying! Just let me see it!”   Brad and a guard were shaking their heads. Luida pressed the lock on his cell, releasing it.  “If Rem trusts him, so do I!” she said.  She bent down to him and unlatched his handcuffs.  He took off in a dead run toward the main Plant Room.   The scene was red as the light of the sovereign Plant bathed the room.  It had uncurled, revealing a delicate, vaguely human form with long, thin appendages and wings like flower petals.  If one was sharp-eyed, one might spy feathers along the tendrils.  The strange angel glowed with markings all over its body resembling circuitry or something altogether more ancient – lines drawn into cliff-faces or poured with sand for some long-forgotten ancient ritual.   Vash, seemingly transfixed by the sight, stepped close to the bulb that the Plant was housed in.  He laid his forehead upon the glass as well as the palms of his hands.  The main crew of Ship 3 looked on.  Vash would not have been able to tell them what he was doing because even he did not know. The Plant responded in kind to him, resting its palms on the interior of the glass to match his.   Vash spoke aloud, soft words, assuring it / her that he was there.  This was what the humans heard.  The rest of the communication was silent, instant – mind to mind, brain to brain. It came in something like a song in a language all their own.  It came in direct emotions and sensations.  Vash felt physical pain rush into him, shooting through his bones, but he ignored it, captured it and stuffed it down.  He willed it to subside, taking it through himself and dissipating it through his skin into the atmosphere.  He felt fear and frustration with the heat.  The people here were running the temperature-regulation system too hard.  There was a fundamental incompatibility with aspects of the planet, itself – temperature ranges between the heat of the day and the chill of the night, the general dryness and native resonances. The Plants were close to the edge of a breaking-point and this one had reached it.   Toomuchtoomuchtoomuch was communicated, Solar radiation against… need slow rest hurt.  WanttobeagoodPlant…want to be good, fearfearfear… I will tell them was communicated back. I know their temperature tolerance parameters.  We can make it work.  You are good. You’re the best.  Please don’t be afraid.  I am here.  There is nothing to be afraid of.  Your brother is here. The Plant’s pain went from a sharp agony into a dull ache and then vanished altogether. Vash felt his bones ease and felt her gain peace of mind.  Her systems stabilized and her light became a healthy blue.  After several minutes, she curled back in on herself, shielding herself with her petal-wings.   Vash sensed that everyone was staring at him. When he looked, he saw people’s gazes going back and forth between him and the Plant-container.   They had just witnessed a miracle. ___________________________________ Later, in his cell, he had eaten the entirety of his lunch.  He felt incredibly hungry all of a sudden.  Vash did not know if this was because of the energy he’d expended communicating with the Plant or if having had the communication and being able to help her had eased his heart enough to bring his appetite back – for at least a little while.   Luida and Brad had surprises for him, it turned out.  The shackles came off.  The holding-cell was abandoned.  Vash was shown to a proper room – one of his own!  Brad begrudgingly admitted that he’d help convince the rest of the crew aboard the ship that he did not need to be in holding any longer, that he was now, more or less, a “trustworthy subject” and should be treated as any other resident of Ship 3.  (A guard was to be posted outside his door for some time yet, because some members of the ship were still a bit jumpy).  He was even given a job – that of a Plant-counselor.   There was something that only he could do: “Speak” with the Plants directly and communicate their needs.   Luida said that she’d never seen a record of a Healing Plant before – at least not one that was so direct.  Medical Plants did provide life-support for humans, in terms of running machines, but there was no record in all of History of a Plant that could heal other Plants.   And along came Vash.   Shortly after the “miracle,” Vash received another invigorating shot of good news:  He was now allowed to visit Rem.  She was stable enough to be given Visiting Hours. Luida tried to pass the previous lack thereof not being over what Vash was, but that she had been denied any long visits from anyone but the doctors due to her condition, but he suspected that was a lie to try to make him feel better.  He remembered that “potentially upsetting” remark.   Apparently, Rem Saverem had been re-categorized from “critical condition” to “survivor” and her recovery at such a quick pace was nothing short of amazing.  It had only been a matter of weeks going from death’s door to talking everybody’s ears off with questions about the collective situation of the planet’s survivors and of the ship. She wanted to do work and no one would let her.   “Now, Vash,” Luida said, holding him back from running directly to the room, “She’s going to live, but she’s still not well. She still looks… pretty shocking and she needs a lot of quiet.  She’s probably going to make some pained sounds now and again, and that’s normal.  She is getting better, but it’s going to take a while.”   ______________________________________ Vash stood with Luida in the doorframe of the hospital room as they watched a pair of staff ease Rem back into her bed – the back of which was angled up for a semi-sitting position – after an apparent muscle-stretch and exercise-session.  A pair of crutches were left at the bed’s foot.  As she was shuffled back into a position that was decently comfortable and had her monitors and IVs hooked up, she turned to her visitors.  She looked to Vash and his free hands and gave Luida a knowing smile before turning a single-eyed glare to the last member of the medical staff to exit the room’s other door.   “I am glad to see that all of you have finally decided to listen to reason,” she said bluntly.   She turned and gave out an effortless “Hey, Vash,” with a soft smile.   Vash stood, shocked for a moment, tears at the edges of his eyes before he thundered to the bed with his arms out and wrapped them around her midsection.  She returned the embrace, careful with her various tubes and wires.   “Hey! Hey!” she said to him, “No need to cry. I’m here.  Are they treating you better?”   Luida was quick with a handkerchief to help Vash dry his face when he finally came up for air.  The last thing that Rem needed was globs of snot on the front of her hospital gown.  Vash had managed to just hold it all in.  His loud honk into the handkerchief was none too polite, though.   “Yeah, yeah,” he said, nodding slightly and looking down.  “Luida and Brad just gave me my own room.  They still wanna watch me…”   Luida leaned on a chair. “Remember when the lights flickered and everything went red the other day?”   “Plant-failure, yes,” Rem answered.  “I was awake enough to go through my files,” She motioned to some sealed pads on the tray next to her bed, “but you did not require them as the Plant stabilized.”   Luida grinned and slapped her hands down on Vash’s shoulders.  “We have this one to thank!  I don’t know how, but he somehow knew exactly what to do when we were all at a loss!  He… somehow… he ‘talked’ to the Plant and healed it!  He has a gift!”   “See?” Rem said cheekily, nodding to Vash. “I told you that you and Nai were like angels.  And look!  You wanted some powers; it looks like you’ve found them?  How does it feel?” “Not…like anything,” Vash said forlornly, “Not really.”  He swung his feet from where he sat on the bedside chair he’d taken to sitting on.  “It just needed help and I was almost too late.” “Being that it was the main life-support Plant… you saved us all,” Luida assured him.  “You should be proud.” She shot a look at Rem.  “It looks like being a hero runs in the family.”   Rem looked down and balled up her top sheet in her half-bandaged hands.  “Let’s… talk about something else,” she said.  “Vash… They…they told me that you were… the only one like yourself that they brought in.”  Her face paled.  “Do you know what happened to Nai?  You can tell me,” she whispered, “…even if it’s bad…”   She closed her one good eye and braced herself. “I don’t know,” Vash said solemnly.  Don’tellhereverythingnotnownotever “We got separated… after our shuttle crashed. I wandered around and passed out… I woke up here.”   “Oh, sweetie…” Rem gasped.  “We’ll find him.  Don’t you worry.  Nai is resilient.” Vash silently nodded.   Vash suddenly started choke-crying.  “I… I’m so, so sorry!” he struggled out.  “You’re hurt!  You’re hurt, Rem, you’re hurt!”   “Don’t worry about me,” she assured, her voice tender.  She thereafter brightened up.  “Check out the eyepatch they gave me.  And they’re going to fit me for a prosthetic leg.  They have an expert aboard this ship, it was Brad, I think?  He already showed me the model he’s working on.  I’m like a pirate! Like those old stories you always liked. Eyepatch, peg-leg…all I need is a parrot!  Argh, matey!” Vash remained stone-faced, looking down. Rem reached over and parted some stray hair away from his eye.  “The joke didn’t land?  Suppose I need to work on my routine, huh?” “Maybe…”   “We’ve been through a lot.  You must have been so scared, Vash, all this time.  Do you realize how brave you are?”  A small tear edged at the bottom of her eye.  “My perfect, brave boy.  Whatever wounds we’ve got, whatever has happened, what matters is that we’re alive.  We still have our blank tickets.”   Vash looked up with a small smile.   “That’s my brave boy.”  

[nella09archive]

Marriage. 41

Chapter 41: Trapped

Where the hell is that man? I leave for moment, to use the rest room, and left the old pervert in charge. Damn it. I really can’t take a break. Roshi just had to cover for my husband to escape. I swear, if you’re not on hospital grounds, I’m going to make sure the doctors stick a lot of needles in you. Please! Don’t! I’m on hospital grounds! I swear! So, where are you? Roof. Huff. Goku you’re going to be the death of me.

Once I made it to the roof, I noticed my husband just sitting. “What where you doing?” He tried to give me the most innocent face and told me just sitting. “Why should I believe that?” He tried to stand up, and just fell back down. See. Once I got up here, I just couldn’t do anything. “Ok. But I have to take you back down.”

“No! Wait!” He tried to pull me closer. Goku! “Sit with me. Come on. You need fresh air, too.” Oh no. He’s doing that smile again. The one where my good husband looks downright evil. No Goku! Back to bed! “Just for a little bit. I promise I won’t bite.” How many times have I heard that before? But I couldn’t help it, so, I just sat down next to him. He pulled me into an awkward embrace, thanks to those casts. But it still felt nice to share a moment with him.

Of course, he just had to ruin the moment. He couldn’t resist licking and nipping my neck. Heck, he was even raking his fangs, too. He rarely does that, unless he really, and I mean really, wants intimacy. “Goku, stop that. You know you always leave marks. That pervert is still here, and I don’t want him looking at me funny.” Sorry, can’t help it. You know how I get when you get all worked up and angry. Oh, how could I even forget. Especially how things turned out the first time I came to realize that. Now that’s something I could never get out of my head.

…

Me and Goku been married for more than a week, and the only thing we been getting better at is our schedules. It would be nice to do more stuff with him, other than eat and talk. Then again, all I ever do is read books. He would take them away to get my attention, but we don’t do much. He trains pretty much all day, and comes home tired. At least he does spends some time with me. Also, we didn’t do much since that meadow incident. Is there something wrong with me? Lisa did say she gave me a gift that would make my marriage exciting, but I don’t know where it is. Also, I just don’t want to look. Maybe I could try being more showy, and that’ll let him know I want a certain attention. But will it work.

Maybe the outfit, I wore on our wedding night would do the trick. He did seem to like it. Also, maybe I should officially stop wearing my binder. After all, I’m not training heavily anymore. Decision made; I ran to our room to change. Goku won’t be home for another 3 hours, so I better fix myself up.

He’s home, and I finished dinner just in time. I hope it’s enough. As I watch him walk in, he forgets to take off his boots again. No, I can’t argue today. Today I’m going to be what a good housewife supposed to be. Which is serve the husband, and not make a big deal about little things, I could always clean up later. Just like all those books I read say to do. “Welcome home honey.” I try putting on my happiest smile, even though I’m annoyed he has yet taken his boots off. He smiles at me, and then looks worried. Before he says anything he finally looks down, and realize he forgot about his boots. He looks scared.

“Sorry, sorry. I’ll take them off.” He then rushes back to the door, where he was supposed to take off his boots. “Is that better?” I just nod and let him know dinner is ready. Why hasn’t he commented me yet? Am I doing this right?

I then serve his first helping, and he complements the food, like always. Maybe I should try this. I hug him from behind, and trace circles on his shoulder. “So, how was your day? Did you come up with anything new?” He doesn’t seem responsive to me trying to flirt, he just answers the question like everything else. I just sit down and eat my meal. He does ask if I was ok, since he said I looked sad. “I’m fine hon.” I don’t think he believes me. Once dinner is over, and I finished cleaning the dishes, I get ready to clean my floors. These mud stains are so annoying to take off. And not surprising, he uses this as a way to get an after-dinner workout. I do appreciate he lets me clean in peace, but it would be nice if he would surprise me sometimes.

Once done, I just get on the couch to read a book before bed. And, that’s when I hear something break. I look to where Goku is standing, and at his feet is broken glass. I just couldn’t hold it anymore. Not noticing me flirting, dirtying my floors, and now I have to clean up glass. “GOKU! WHAT DID YOU DO!” I can feel a vein is about to pop as I storm over to him, demanding an explanation. But all I get is him licking his lips. What the hell gives? “Goku! How did you even break it?” There’s no answer, instead he just kicks the glass to the side, while still looking at me. I grab him down by his collar, ready to punch him, and in responds he kisses. What in the world? I try to stay angry, and in responds he’s pinning me to the ground. All I could hear him say is for me to keep getting angry.

…

Chichi truly is too good for me, as I watch her readjust her top. “Don’t you dare give me that look.” I’ll just do this again. I just grab her still expose behind. “Where did you throw my panties?” Not telling. I pull her over, to sit back on top of me. “Goku! You have to go back to you—” You keep this up, I’m not letting you go nowhere. “Goku! Ah. Please. Mm.” Let me just make you come one more time. Besides, you’re the one moving, not me. “Damn it. Goku. AH!” Oh, I just love it when she comes all over me. Such a good wife, my perfect Chichi.

As I watch her slowly get back up, I start missing her all over again. But she’s right, I should be getting back. “At least help me out, before—Mm.” Jack pot.

As Chichi helps me walk back to my room, I can’t help feel a sense of pride. Shut up! Admit it, you loved every second. In respond she just blushes heavily. You’re too good to me, and I love you. Now she’s smiling at me, and I can’t help smile back.

…

Oh, this isn’t good! How are we going to get back home? On top of that, my favorite book was in there. Mom is going to kill me if I she finds out about this. Krillin seems more worried about those guys coming back. I’m scared too, but my mom is scarier when she’s angry. As we finally leave our ruin spaceship behind, we find a cave we can hide in. And that’s when we feel it. The scariest thing, scarier than an enraged mom.

He’s powerful, and his energy reads pure evil. After we leave Bulma to hide in the cave, we follow them to their next location. Which so happens to be a Namekian village. And what they were holding were these larger than life dragon balls. If I wasn’t so scared, I’ll be trying to go reach for one.

Krillin kept remaining me I had to keep my power level low. But it’s so hard when I’m both excited and scared. Then some elderly versions of Piccolo came out from one of the one, what I assume, is a home. Then this scary guy starts talking to him, and it sounds funny. “What in the world are they saying?” Doesn’t Krillin understand them? Weird. So, why can I? I tell him how the scary guy is asking for the dragon ball. “How do you know that? Are you able to understand them?”

“Maybe. Weird.” Then the scary guy tells him that to stop playing games, and to speak the common tongue. Who knew common tongue was earthling. Now, Krillin was able to follow along.

NO! I can’t stand and watch them kill everyone! Screw Krillin’s warning! I’m saving that kid! To my surprised, Krillin had my back and we escaped, with our lives. Well, barely.

…

As I wait for the elevator, I can’t help hum a happy tune. Goku is finally staying put, and he’s even eating more. As the elevator doors open, the first thing I notice is a long stick. Then I look down, and there’s Korin. “Oh, good morning.” He nodded his head. “So, the senzu beans are ready?” He nods again. “Please tell him to meet me before he goes.”

“No promises sweetheart.” With that he gets off, and I get into the elevator. Goku, Korin’s on his way. You better say bye to me before you go. But. No buts. You need clean underwear. Please. Fine, just let me know before you take off. And tell Master Roshi to not leave yet. Understood. Love you. Love you too.

Just as I finished putting the last pair to dry, do I feel the wind become stronger. And I turn around to see, my Goku flying off on nimbus. Now to go face the idiots downstairs, and collect the remains of Goku’s things. And now come to find out, my baby made it safely to another planet. So wonderful. I hope he’s enjoying his time, and is safe. Maybe I’ll stop by the Brief’s home and ask how they’re able to communicate, so I can hear my baby boy. I hope he liked the heart tag I did. Also, now I could focus on making him another similar gi. Maybe I could do it as Goku’s but have that monster’s colors. Gohan would be so surprised.

…

Mr. Brief said I’ll make it in 6 days, I just hope my little man can survive that long. I really hope I don’t cut it close again. I’m not even scared what Chichi would do to me. I’m more terrified how I would even handle not saving my son. Forget my friends, if I can’t save my own son, I’m a complete failure. I wouldn’t be able to even face Chichi or even bare to live. I would do anything for him.

…

Oh, this isn’t good. Now that Frieza guy knows we’re here. But at least we saved the kid. Now to wait with Bulma while Krillin goes meet the great Namek. Now to deal with Bulma’s complaining. Well, till she told me about a dragon ball, and I had the great freedom to go find it. Thank goodness, I was getting bored.

As I reached the village, where the dragon ball said to be, I just couldn’t believe my eyes. Earlier me and Krillin felt Vegeta over, but Bulma thought maybe he just didn’t find the dragon ball and left. But what I saw was pure horror. Not only did Vegeta killed everyone, even the children, but he also destroy the plants. He showed no mercy to anything, just pure torment. Could my dad be wrong about Vegeta eventually changing? I definitely need to keep out of Vegeta’s path. But first, as a respect to these kind people, I should give them a proper burial. Once done, I went in search for the dragon ball. Surprisly it was in the water nearby. Did they try to hide it from Vegeta? Well, I better get back to Bulma.

Crap! I hope he doesn’t spot the ball. For someone who can easily kill me, he’s kind of nice. Well, until he kneed me in the gut. I just won’t tell anyone that for a moment I felt like a kid getting praised, and by a guy who could have killed me. Nobody needs to know that. Nobody is going to find out that a murder just praised me, and I felt all gooey inside. If he wasn’t so mean, maybe it’ll be nice to ask him questions. I mentally slapped myself. No Gohan! He’s an evil monster, that hurt my daddy, and could have easily killed me! Then again, the same could be said about Piccolo.

Ok, note to self. If we all get through this alive, and for some off chance Vegeta isn’t trying kill us, I’ll have a friendly chat with him. Yeah, especially since he’ll actually be able to answer questions. It’ll be so much fun if he was a nice guy. CRAP! I got to stop doing that. He’s a bad guy Gohan. This sucks.

…

I hope Gohan and them are safely hiding from whoever this Frieza guy is. I hope Vegeta hasn’t hurt anyone. Vegeta? Maybe if I’m lucky, and after we wish our friends back, Vegeta might want a rematch. Maybe even come back to earth, and be a sparring partner. Oh, and he could tell me more about our race. On second thought, just being sparring partners would be fine. If sayians are as evil as King Kai says, it’s probably best I don’t know. I hope Chichi is ok.

…

I hope my boys are ok. I’m so grateful Mrs. Brief let me stay till everyone came back home. It feels nice not being by myself in that lonely house. Also not having to worry about cleaning and cooking. I should definitely write down these recipes. Mrs. Brief is a great cook. It feels nice to get away for a while. Also, waiting of Dr. Brief to finish that second ship is a bit annoying. I just want to see my baby already. I still don’t get why Goku calls him Mr when his proper title is Dr. Oh well, can’t be helped. Mm, this cake is yummy.

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 105

Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid/Turn Left

“Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid”

Plot Description: The dead are rising from their graves and happily reuniting with their families in Bobby’s hometown

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: 1) I thought they said the dead were HAPPILY reuniting. But 2) I don’t think I’ve pissed off anyone who’s died enough for them to KILL me. But also I’m not answering the door in a storm like that if I don’t know someone’s on the way

That is some very convenient narration from the nature documentary

Well, they’re not calling you a TRUTHER. Mmm, but okay. Just solidifies my hypothesis that I wouldn’t die in the first five minutes: I’ve also never killed anyone

These are, in fact, the correct faves to make when you get caught impersonating a government official because you had the sheriff of Bobby’s home town call him

Oh shit…Bobby didn’t tell them what the fuck’s going on because his wife is back from the dead too

So DEATH Death is on his way

I am…extremely sympathetic to Bobby’s dilemma (and I am EXTREMELY glad I didn’t watch this last week). But yeah, if it were John and the boys had found out he came back from the dead, Bobby would be telling them the same thing they’re telling him now.

Well, one good thing about Sam getting attacked by that old woman is that we know you don’t have to do anything special to kill them

Bobby, come on.

Look…the level of planning Dean’s doing to go kill Bobby’s wife is exactly the level that Cas did to get Famine’s ring yesterday. Surface level to the extreme

Oh Jody…now I see why you’re pro-zombie. Oh no…oh you poor woman. To get your son back and then lose both your son and your husband in the same night due to your son coming back. I can’t even imagine. Jody, I’m so sorry

Oof, Karen knows it’s over, but Bobby (predictably) can’t do it. He can’t kill her again

Aw come on…I wanna know the messagggggge

Oh Bobby. He did it. He had to, but that doesn’t make it hurt less

WHY ARE THEY SO FOCUSED ON KILLING BOBBY AND/OR DEAN? Unless Bobby is somehow responsible for their deaths too?? Maybe??? I dunno. Are we gonna get closure on that?

This must be so hard to do a second time.

Oh…this whoooooole thing was a hit on Bobby’s life.

“Been On My Mind…”: Nope. 9

“Turn Left”

Plot Description: Donna's entire world collapses, but there's no sign of the Doctor. Instead, she finds help from a mysterious blonde woman - a traveler from a parallel universe

(First things first, HBO Max spelled traveler wrong in their plot description...just needed to get that out of the way)

I'm not ready at all for this episode. I feel like I JUST. GOT. Donna. (The episode just about every day all last week didn't help, but I still want to complain)

*blinks slowly* they were going to pay her HOW MUCH a year? to be a secretary? 20k a year? adjusted for inflation and converted to USD, no. No absolutely not. Well, I suppose if you had multiple wage earners in the house, sure. Anyway...

Normalize making what turn out to be life altering decisions out of spite. I love that for you, Donna.

You can take the companion away from the TARDIS but you can't take the instinct to run toward danger away from the companion

There's so much I've forgotten (fitting) about these episodes because I rarely went back to these in particular. They're so painful. So, yeah, I forgot the Doctor straight up dies.

Rose came all the way across universes just to find out the Doctor died.

Way to go, Mama Noble, making Donna take the job where she's just gonna get laid off because half of he employer's contracts are on the other side of London and they can't cross the Thames.

YES, DONNA!!! GO OUT LOUD AND TOXIC!! This is cathartic for me.

Watching this in 2023 is...something, for sure. Wilf's (rightly) going on about how there's solid proof of alien life, and how it's coming to Earth, and it's not friendly. All the while, Donna and her mom are (also correctly) still having to deal with the minutia of daily life. (Adore that Donna stole Beatrice's label stapler.)

I don't like that Donna and Rose don't get along here. Darkest timeline.

WILF IN HIS TWO PAIRS OF CHRISTMAS ANTLERSSSSSSS <3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

Oh...oh, shit. Girl..."is that like a sequel?" TO TITANIC??

"America is in crisis" bitch, you are telling me. OKAY HANG ON NOW. I was on board with you when you said that the country I live in is in crisis, but I will always draw the line at the fatphobic comments about Americans...

GODDDDD this episode is depressing. Like. I've seen this episode of Supernatural, that one sucked, too. I don't like watching all the things our protagonists accomplished, all the people they saved....be....not that. (I'm tired. It's nearly 11pm because I was dreading watching this)

Oh god...this family Donna and her family have been living with. Fuck. FUCK. The Donna I know wouldn't be this oblivious to what's actually happening around her. The knowing looks exchanged between the patriarch of that family and Wilf...it's heartbreaking

I hate Donna's mom so much. How dare she.

Oh,...that's what Rose meant when she told Donna she was going to die. She's going to cause the accident that forces...herself to turn left

The Doctor's reaction to hearing Bad Wolf once more...

[xxsabitoxx]

How the Pillars Handle Grief

Warning: talks about death — implied that the reader is who they are grieving the loss of

A/N: Me? Writing angst? Instead of smut?? Don’t worry more smut is coming as soon as I figure out what I want to write lol. For now — here are some sad ass head canons

Giyu

Giyu handles grief quietly

He’s never been one to show his emotions — especially not after losing Sabito. So he’s incredibly hard to read at times. Honestly he isn’t sure if it’s a blessing or a curse

He was so used to you being around, one of the few people he opened his heart up to. So for you to suddenly disappear as quickly as you appeared leaves him broken.

But as I said before — he handles these feelings quietly.

He slowly shuts himself away, really only leaving his home when he is assigned a mission or to patrol his sections. Other than that he barely leaves his bed.

Shinobu is the first to go and try and talk to him, she figures he probably won’t answer for her. If that’s the case, she’s send Tanjiro

“Tomioka…” she knocked softly, it was nearly noon and every window was shut tight. She got no answer so she knocked again. “Tomioka…I’m coming in.” She slid the door open, walking into the dark home. “At least open some windows.” She wasn’t sure if he could hear her, but she spoke as if he could. “Tomioka…” she called again, still no answer. Shinobu opened a few windows as she walked, letting sunlight filter into the dusty home. “He’s living in the dark…” she finally made it to your once shared room. “Tomioka?” She hoped for a response. “Come in.” Soft and hoarse, he sounded miserable.

Giyu doesn’t even bother to put on his corps uniform unless it’s absolutely necessary

He really doesn’t even try to get himself out of the bedroom. He just sits…or lays down…not much else

He doesn’t even have the energy to tie his hair up or brush it for that matter

Shinobu recruited Tanjiro to join her the next time she visits Giyu. Which becomes a daily occurrence.

Slowly but surely they try to help him cope & get back to his normal life. It’s very hard though.

What surprisingly helps him a lot is talking about you.

That and visiting you, though he doesn’t have the courage to go alone. Not yet at least

“They wouldn’t want you to wither away, Giyu.” Tanjiro sat beside him on the ground, eyes scanning over the engraved stone. “I know.” His voice is barely above a whisper, eyes glossy as he lights incense. “You have to keep moving, for y/n’s sake. Don’t let all the love they gave you go to waste.” That got to him, maybe better than any words had so far. “You’re right.”

Shinobu

Shinobu handles grief angrily.

The initial arrival of the news caused her to go into a blind rage. One fueled majorly by guilt.

She was a doctor and Hashira, so why couldn’t she save you? Those thoughts will keep her up at night.

Unlike others, she had many duties on top of being a Hashira. Meaning she doesn’t have the time to sit down and grieve.

Shinobu becomes colder, meaner, doesn’t force a smile on her face. In a way she returns to her old mannerisms before she adopted Kanae’s.

“Shinobu?” Aoi’s voice was hesitant. “Yes?” Shinobu didn’t bother looking up from her desk, still writing whatever she needed. “Don’t you think you should…take a break.” It had been two weeks, Shinobu barely allowed herself to sleep at this point. “I’m fine, Aoi.” Her voice was curt, not allowing any room for questions. Aoi sighed, muttering a soft “okay” before leaving. Shinobu was acting far different than she had when they lost Kanae. There were only a few tears shed, all her grief was bubbling rage. She didn’t even have the heart to go visit you.

It takes a few months, but eventually she has the heart to go and see you

That’s when the tears finally come — seeing your name made everything more final

She choose to go alone, but Kanao and Aoi followed. They didn’t know how she would handle it and figured it would be best if she wasn’t completely alone

She stayed there for hours, well after the sun had set. It was on and off tears, low mumbles of your name and many apologizes

Neither Aoi or Kanao dared to approach her, eventually they left her alone completely. Aoi said she’d return if Shinobu wasn’t back before day break.

She initially couldn’t stomach going to see you. Now she couldn’t fathom walking away. Leaving you all alone.

When she didn’t return, Aoi went out.

“Shinobu…” her voice was quiet as always, hands clenched tightly as if bracing herself to be yelled at. The reaction she got wasn’t one she expected. Tear filled eyes looked up at her, puffy and swollen. “A-aoi.” She had never seen Shinobu so vulnerable. That brought Aoi to tears, the younger girl falling to her knees and wrapping Shinobu in a tight hug. “Don’t blame yourself, please don’t blame yourself. Y/n wouldn’t want you to blame yourself.” It left her lips over and over, Shinobu’s cries only grew louder.

Rengoku

He’s absolutely lost.

He isn’t even sure what to do really. There are so many emotions overwhelming him at once that he sort of shuts down.

Kyojuro handles grief probably the best out of all our pillars. And by that I mean he handles it in a healthy manner. Or… as best as he can

He doesn’t shut himself out, he doesn’t get angry, he does his best to keep moving forward with his life.

It’s extremely helpful that he has Senjuro and Tanjiro to help him get through it.

He doesn’t hesitate to go visit you. In fact it’s the first thing he does once everything is said and done

“Good morning, my love.” He sits before you, a soft smile on his face. “I hope you’re doing well.” He lights incense, the smell becoming an odd comfort for him. “I miss you…more than I thought I could miss anything.” He was young when he lost his mother, what he wouldn’t give to be able to see her again. But still — he was young when she passed. His memories grew fuzzy as he got older, sometimes he worried he’d start to forget her kind face. You on the other hand, you were a slap to the face. One he didn’t think he’d be able to recover from.

Kyojuro doesn’t realize it at first, but he smiles less often than usual. Something that is startling for those around him since he always had one plastered to his face

Kyojuro on the other hand doesn’t think much of it, he still has a lot to smile about. But it’s hard to do so when the biggest source of that smile is no longer with him.

Though, luckily, he never lost his appetite. If anything, he ate even more in your honor.

For the first month of your absences, Kyojuro does struggle a bit with getting out of bed. Senjuro on the other hand is there to constantly motivate his brother and help him get on with his day.

I have a feeling that Kyojuro wouldn’t look to be with someone for a very very long time. Maybe even never. Though Senjuro talks him out of that mindset.

“Don’t you think y/n would want you to be happy.” Senjuro was sitting beside him, looking at the stone with your name engraved on it. It hurt him to see it, he couldn’t imagine the way his older brother felt. “I think they would, but they wouldn’t want me forcing myself either.” Silence fell over the two brothers for a moment. “Do you think you’ll ever fall in love again, Kyojuro?” That was a question Kyojuro himself hadn’t even thought about. It was something he probably would deem impossible. “I’m not sure. Though I trust that y/n is guiding me. If they think I’m ready, they’ll bring someone along for me.” What a beautiful way to think of it, that brought Senjuro a little bit of peace.

Tengen

He’s a wildcard when it comes to grief

I have a feeling Tengen doesn’t cry nor does he get mad

Similar to Giyu, he’s a bit more subdued. I also think he probably shuts himself away from the rest of the world for a week or two

He has Hinatsuru, Makio and Suma to support him. But they are grieving as well. So it’s a whole lot of emotions going on in the Uzui estate

I think there are a lot of tears on his wives part. But I really don’t think Tengen himself is a crier.

“Good morning.” His voice is soft and sleepy. He hasn’t been able to get much sleep since you left. “Good morning.” Hinatsuru’s eyes were just as tired as his own. “Has Suma gotten out of bed yet?” Hinatsuru shook her head, handing him a plate of food and encouraging him to eat. So he did. Something that had become a struggle was gaining an appetite, nothing was appealing anymore. “Maybe we should go for a walk today…visit them.” He held his breath, waiting for her reaction. “I think that would be a good idea. Though I’m not sure Makio can handle it yet.”

Tengen visits you often. He can handle it a lot better than his wives can. He visits his siblings pretty often as well.

It still hurts to see your name though, it really isn’t fair in his eyes. But it’s part of the occupation

Tengen really tries to rationalize all of this death stuff. If he didn’t, he’d be a bigger cry baby than Suma.

Hinatsuru, Makio and Suma try to visit as often as Tengen, but it’s a lot for them. Out of the three, Makio is the worst. She can’t stand seeing your name there, it makes her angry. She lasts a minute before storming off

Hinatsuru on the other hand often accompanies Tengen. Suma usually tries but ends up crying to much.

This gives Tengen and Hinatsuru a lot of time alone with you.

“Do you think they are watching over us?” Hinatsuru lit another stick of incense, sighing deeply. “I believe so.” He was staring at the flowers he placed at the base of your stone. Hinatsuru’s quiet sniffling had become quite common, it didn’t alarm him anymore. “I miss you.” It was soft, only meant for you to hear where ever you were. Tengen’s hand laced with hers slowly, eyes closing as she squeezed it tightly. “Do…you think this will ever get easier?” He felt like he already knew the answer. Quietly, Hinatsuru cleared her throat. “I-I’m not sure. Truly I can’t imagine this ever becoming easier.”

Muichiro

He starts to forget more frequently

Your absence however is something that sticks with him

Muichiro doesn’t really outwardly express his grief. It’s honestly hard to tell IF he’s grieving

I think most people hope that he forgot, that he doesn’t really remember you.

Genya often checks up on him, Shinobu as well. Mostly because she wants to see what he is feeling.

“Good afternoon, Tokito.” Shinobu smiled softly as he sat in the stool across from her. “Hello.” His crow was sitting on his shoulder. “How are you feeling?” She crossed her legs, watching for any signs. “Alright…normal.” He shrugged, not really understanding why Genya had brought him here. “Nothing out of the ordinary?” He shook his head again, blinking slowly as he took in his surroundings. “No…why am I here?” Shinobu sighed, turning in her stool to scribble down some notes. “I just wanted to see how you were.” She kept writing, it seemed he really didn’t remember. “If you happen to see y/n, can you tell them I’ll be going on a mission soon.” Shinobu’s writing stopped.

As I said, your absence sticks with him. But he doesn’t always remember the reason why you’re gone.

So it’s a bit upsetting for people when he asks them to deliver a message to you

One day, when Muichiro really doesn’t seem to remember why you’re gone…Genya takes him to visit you

It didn’t go over particularly well. No tears fell, but anger certainly bubbled up.

Muichiro sat there for hours, Genya trying to calmly explain that you were gone

“They aren’t coming back.” Genya lit the incense, saying a prayer in his head as he set it in the holder. “How long have they been dead.” There was a sorrowful tone in Muichiro’s voice, one Genya rarely heard. “It’s been about a month now.” They were sitting before your stone, Genya was fidgeting with his hands, quietly wishing someone like Tanjiro was with him to better explain. “How did it happen?” Genya inhaled sharply, he hadn’t asked that before. “It was on a mission, gravely injured.” He kept it simply, it’s not as if he’d remember much anyways. “I see.” It took Genya a minute to realize Muichiro was crying.

Mitsuri

Mitsuri is a crier — I’m taking like inconsolable scream crying

She doesn’t handle grief or death very well at all. She knows it’s part of being a demon slayer but that doesn’t make it any easier for her

The first sign of her taking the grieving process rough is the fact that she will lose her appetite — which is very concerning for everyone around her

If it weren’t for Shinobu, Obanai and Kyojuro…she’d never get out of bed.

Mitsuri deals with grief very openly and very harshly

“Let me wash your face.” Obanai wet a cloth with warm water, carefully rubbing it across her swollen cheeks. Tears cling to her lashes, the usual smile on her face was nowhere to be seen. She had been doing well, eating some breakfast when a memory triggered another crying fit. It was like walking on eggshells around the love pillar, even the smallest mention of your name sent her into a spiral. Though most found that to be natural when it came to losing someone you loved so dearly. “Does it ever get easier?” Those words caught him by surprise, “I hope it does.” He smiled sadly, pulling her head to his chest. If it weren’t for the counter she was sitting on, she probably would have collapsed as she began to cry.

It takes Mitsuri a few months to be able to visit you

The first time she went, she nearly threw up from crying so harshly. Kyojuro had to drag her away.

Within a year, she’s able to think about you without sobbing. She took your passing the absolute hardest

She visits you daily, bringing her meals with her to eat with you.

It was a suggestion made by Shinobu, something along the lines of “y/n would want you to eat”. That was enough to get at least some of her appetite back.

She’ll spend hours talking to you, going through all sorts of stories and memories. She knows you are listening from wherever you are

“I had your favorite food today, even ate double the portion for you. Food just doesn’t taste as good when you aren’t with me. But it’s stared to become more enjoyable again now that I’m sharing it with you.” She tucked her hair behind her ear, saying thanks for her food before she began to eat. “This isn’t fair.” She sniffled softly, swallowing her food and setting it aside. “You should be here eating with me. We could have shared so many meals…” she wiped her eyes vigorously, angry that she was still letting herself get so upset even a year later. You wouldn’t want her to cry every time she thought of you. “I miss you.” Her lip trembled, silently wishing that something would bring you back to her.

Obanai

Obanai is quiet and angry

For a few days he’s honestly in denial. There is no way you could have lost. Never mind lost so badly that it cost you your life. He refused to believe it

It wasn’t until he was asked to go view your body that it really smacked him in the face. He’d be frozen, staring in shock at your peaceful but beaten form

He’d disappear for a while, draw away entirely from everyone and everything. He would do his missions when needed but other than that, no one heard from him

Mitsuri would send letters while Sanemi sent crows, Obanai rarely responded back for the first month or so after your untimely demise

“Tell Kanroji I’m fine.” Mitsuri’s crow fluttered away, leaving him alone once more. That’s how most days went, so far from home but that poor crow still managed to track him down. Kaburamaru was wrapped around his neck, poking his cheek softly. “I know…I’ll eat soon.” He truly had no appetite, his heart ached at the mere thought of doing something you couldn’t do anymore. Even waking up in the morning was a battle in and of itself. Another crow made it’s way through the window of his room, tucked away on the quiet countryside. This time it was Sanemi’s crow, informing Obanai that the burial was over and the stone had been placed and engraved. It was probably the worst news he has received.

It would take Obanai a handful of months after that to return back to his home

It took Sanemi and Mitsuri to get Obanai to go see you. The figured it would be something to give him a little bit of closure

Truly Obanai was more startled by the fact that Sanemi was putting up with Mitsuri

The closure they assumed he’d get didn’t happen, if anything it made him more upset seeing your name there

Obanai would never truly cope, he’d always harbor a lot of anger in his heart over the whole ordeal. Mostly because he blamed himself.

“I should visit you more often…but it hurts. It fucking hurts y/n. I never thought I’d be seeing your name on a stone like this, not when you were so young…at least not before me.” Kaburamaru’s face brushed his cheek, collecting a stray tear that fell from Obanai’s eye. He sighed, head hanging low as his black hair covered his face. “This isn’t fair, not one bit. It should have been me. You deserved to live a long happy life, I was the one that was supposed to die first.” His shoulders shook, hot angry tears slipping down his cheeks. “Wait for me, please promise that wherever you are…you’ll wait for me.”

Sanemi

Sanemi is a mess

I think he is one of the only pillars that visibly goes through all stages of grief to the most extreme extent.

Sanemi had the unfortunate privilege of being there, he witnessed the whole thing

He’s a screamer, we know this, but it amplifies tenfold when he is in absolute anguish.

Don’t touch him, don’t talk to him, don’t go near him, and absolutely do not take you from his arms. In his mind the damage is already irreversible, why do they need to touch you?

When he has to let you go, his tears turn to anger

“Don’t fucking touch me, don’t touch them.”  he was seething, if looks could kill, everyone within a fifteen foot radius would drop dead by now. “M-master Shinazugawa…” his grip on you was bruising, he needed to keep you warm. Your hands were already ice cold in his, it made his heart ache. “You fucking heard me, back off.” They stepped away, moving towards the other kakushi that had been summoned. Despite the distance, Sanemi still heard them speak. “Send word to Lady Kocho and Master Ubuyashiki. We’ll need to prepare a spot for burial.” Sanemi clung to your lifeless form tighter, silent tears streaming down his cheeks.

Sanemi wouldn’t allow anyone to talk to him — never mind bring you up in his presence.

Each morning and each night was spent visiting you

He’d talk nonstop about anything and everything, as if you’d actually be able to respond to a single thing he said. He had fallen into a state of unease. As if nothing around him was actually real.

It wasn’t denial, he had been there, he had seen and felt it. It was more so that he felt as if he were in a nightmare. Sooner or later he’d wake up to you by his side.

Naturally though, that would never happen. Not in this life time.

The sun was setting, he sat cross legged on the ground before the engraved stone. He brought the jug of sake to his lips, taking a long swig. Over the last few months, he began coping with everything by drinking. He knew you’d be yelling at him for it, all the while asking him to share. So after each sip, he poured a bit out for you. He repeated those motions until the jug was empty. “I hope you’re okay, wherever you are.” It was silent around him, nothing but crickets beginning their nightly symphony. “I hope you’re waiting for me. Though I don’t think I’ll keep you waiting for much longer…”

Gyomei

He’s the most stable out of all of them

Tears are natural for Gyomei in general, so of course they’d fall for you when he received the news.

Gyomei went to see you, hands tracing the features on your face as his whispered prayers for you

Tears leaked from his eyes, he could feel the faint roughness of cuts and scars

Gyomei would wrap prayer beads around your hand, place a soft kiss on your forehead, and send you off.

He was heartbroken, but for your sake he knew he had to keep moving.

“How are you doing, master?” Genya sat beside Gyomei as the man went through his morning prayers. “I’m not well, but I can’t dwell on these feelings. They wouldn’t want me to. Y/n would want me to keep going.” Genya could see his hands begin to shake, tears starting to slip down his cheeks. “You know y/n would also want you to take time for yourself. You need time to properly grieve.” Gyomei stopped mid prayer, perhaps Genya was right. But for Gyomei, moving kept him from breaking down. It was a tough line to try and clarify. “You’re probably right. Let’s worry about that later.”

Gyomei visited you often, at least three times a day to offer prayers and offerings

Gyomei is unreadable for the most part, people struggle to know how he is handling everything

Since the incident itself, he didn’t really change. Besides crying just a little more often. But tears were a normal thing for Gyomei

Ubuyashiki is the one that pulls him aside, kindly asking him to join for tea.

“Do you need a break, Gyomei?” Kagaya’s daughter poured both men some tea. “I don’t think so, master. Do you mind pouring a third cup? For y/n.” It has become a habit for Gyomei to order an extra serving in your honor. “Of course.” Kagaya frowned slightly, his heart ached for every child he lost. “Are you handling things okay? Genya came to me worried.” Gyomei seemed a bit surprised by that, his surprise quickly turned to a small smile. “My ever observant pupil. To be truthful with you, it’s painful. Everything reminds me of them. But for their sake, for their honor, and in hopes of seeing them again one day. I must keep moving.”

[assassins-and-hidden-blades]

Hello there!I really love your blog!Can i request Connor,Haytham and Desmond reacting on their S/O being killed by their enemy, please?:³

29/01/2022: Anon, I apologise in advance for breaking your heart. (What? No, I'm not procrastinating on my work, what are you talking about? /j)

Reminder that requests are closed until the summer! I'm just trying to empty my inbox before any new requests come in, so please don't send any until my blog description says that they're open! Thank you all for your continued support and for sticking around during my semi-hiatus (despite the fact that I am most definitely procrastinating from my work -- don't do what I do, kids) <333

So Desmond’s is similar to THIS post because I just can’t see him reacting in any other way lmao and i honestly didn’t realise I made them basically identical at the beginning.

And like, if you wanna request more angst 👉👈🥺… haha jk… 😅unless…🥺😏 /hj

Warnings: Character death, angst, super sad times, blood mention, serious injuries, canon typical violence, etc, slightly unedited

How Haytham, Connor, and Desmond React to Their S/O Being Killed by Their Enemy

Haytham

A defected Templar thought it would be a good idea to use the Grandmaster’s partner as leverage.

A mistake that cost him deeply.

Yet, he succeeded.

The situation was chaotic, unstable. Haytham lost control of the room as soon as he opened his mouth.

The emotions, the anger… any semblance of calm negotiation was thrown off the table when he saw you.

“A quick death, or a slow one?” The traitor indicated each choice by pointing a knife to your throat or your stomach.

“I’m warning you.” His voice rumbled in restrained rage.

He almost had you. He almost saved you.

The door of the building burst open; they were here to help.

Haytham shared one look with the one balancing your life in his hands.

And with one sharp movement, chose your death for him.

Haytham’s pistol went off.

He missed. Leaving him to be pursued by the others, he ran to your side.

“Y/n.” Words left him in a whisper.

“Oh, my darling…” Haytham brushed hair out of your eyes, cupping your face.

Looking between your pained expression and its source, he heaved out an anxious breath.

“We’re going to get you help, alright? A doctor is on his way.”

“Haytham, it hurts…”

“I know. I know it does. I cannot tell you how sorry I am.”

“You did all you could. I’m glad I could spend… my last moments… with you.”

“But the opera tomorrow… You mustn’t miss that.”

“I’ll still be there,” you smiled, tears in your eyes.

“I love you, Kenway.”

“And I love you.”

He pressed his lips to your nose softly, your last breath kissing his skin.

Tears rolled down your cheeks, but they were not yours.

Connor

“Connor?! Connor, move!”

He turned around as you jumped in front of him, a gunshot ringing out.

You couldn’t move the brick house, so you parked yourself in front of it.

He didn’t know what had happened for a moment when you grasped his shoulders.

But he took in the shock on your face, the distant glint of a rifle on a rooftop…

As you collapsed against his chest, he dropped his tomahawk, pulled out his pistol and fired a true shot. The man fell from the rooftop.

Connor held you against him and sank to his knees.

“Are you hurt?” you breathed.

“No, I’m… I’m okay -- you’re bleeding. Why…”

He kept pressure on the wound, grasping you tightly. “I don’t know what to do.”

“It’s okay. It’s okay.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the way the sun rays caught in his hair. “What do I do?”

“Stay with me.”

He broke, then. One of the rare moments tears fell from his cheeks.

“Ratonhnhaké:ton.”

He taught you to say that. Oh, the name never sounded so bittersweet.

“I’ll be watching over you.”

“Don’t say that. Don’t… I have no one else.”

“I won’t leave you. Not really.”

Inches away from his jaw, you strained to press your lips to his skin.

Soft and gentle, like your soul.

He focused on the aftershocks on his skin, terrified that the feeling will be lost with you.

Your body grew heavy as he sensed the moment you had moved on.

He pulled you impossibly closer.

“Konorónhkwa, Y/n/n.”

His body was silent, but his grief was loud.

Desmond

Disaster struck in two seconds.

Anything other than perfection means death.

For you, that meant the wound in your side could have been prevented if you had taken cover sooner.

“Y/n, look out!”

Why did you have to think about it?

BANG!

“Uh, Des?”

“Oh, shit!”

The ground cooled your flushed skin.

“Y/n, Y/n, hey, hey, hey…” Desmond slid to you and cradled your face in his hands, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs. “You’re gonna be okay, you hear me? You’re gonna be fine.” His words were tumbling out of his mouth at such a speed, you almost couldn’t comprehend them.

He carefully maneuvered you into his arms. “I need some help over here!” He pressed his hand against the bloodstain of your shirt.

You regarded his face; the agony was easy to read, and your heart couldn’t help but constrict painfully in your chest.

“I’m fine… I‘m sorry.” You tried to get up.

“No, no! Don’t move. I don’t want it to get worse.” Desmond held onto you tighter. “Shaun! Rebecca!”

“We have a bit of a situation, Desmond!” Shaun’s voice was distant.

“Oh, I’m sorry, you have a situation?!”

Your head leaned a bit too heavily into his shoulder.

“No, no, no, Y/n, hold on. Please.” He pushed harder against the wound.

“Holy fuck.” Rebecca came into view, fresh from the conflict moments before. “Y/n, can you hear me?”

“Mmhmm.”

“It’s all gonna be okay. We just gotta stop the bleeding. Desmond, move your hand.”

He swallowed before speaking, sickened at how almost all his skin was stained crimson. “Okay, okay, okay.”

Rebecca was ready with a first aid kit she found in the corner; pros of getting shot in an office.

She swiftly replaced Desmond’s hand with gauze. He pressed down over it again. “You’re gonna be okay, now, Y/n/n. You’re gonna be…” his voice cracked, a lump sinking into his throat. His tears have been silent up to now.

Rebecca glanced at the blood surrounding them. It was pooling, soaking their jeans. “Shaun, get the fuck over here!”

It took a second longer for Shaun to get into view, a hard drive in his hand. “Sorry for the wait, the killing and the downloading took-- Oh, Christ!” He sank beside Rebecca, feeling your forehead.

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?!”

Desmond sent him a glare before focusing back on you.

“I’m calling an ambulance.”

Rebecca was quick to follow Shaun, a protest at her lips. “That’s a fucking stupid idea! You know why we can’t do that…”

It didn’t matter. Desmond knew they had run out of time.

“Hey, Y/n? Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

Nothing was wrong, everything was fine.

In your half-conscious state, you cracked a smile. “You… You tell me all the time.”

“Yeah? Well, I love you more than anything. It’s true, I do.”

“I love you more…”

He released a stressed sigh, a sorrowful upturn on his lips as he shook his head. “That’s impossible.”

You slowly raised your hand to his cheek. “You’ll be okay, Des… without me.”

“Hey, no, no, don’t you ever say that. We’ll get you out of here, and then we’ll go grab a beer or something.”

Wiping the tears from his cheek, your eyes locked with his. “No time.”

“Oh shit. Desmond, we gotta go!”

The light of sirens painted across his face. “C’mon, let’s get out of here.” He began to shift you into his arms so he could carry you. “Just let me adjust for a sec…”

“Des, Des, stop.” You grabbed the front of his hoodie, halting his frantic movements. “Go.”

“We are!”

“Let me go, Desmond.”

He froze for a moment. “Nope. No, nonono, no way. You’re not pulling that shit with me.”

“I don’t want to die… knowing that you were spending the rest of your life in jail.”

“Please, please, Y/n, I can’t leave you.”

“You have to. Live for me.”

Your hand slowly released its grip, falling to your stomach.

“No, no, hey!” He lowered you to the floor, leaning over you. He cradled your vacant face with both hands. “Don’t do this. Don’t you dare leave me.”

His forehead touched yours, gentle but firm. “Please.”

___________________________________________________________

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[rayofsunas]

s/o has a mental/nervous breakdown.

A/n: hello everyone! I hope your day is going alright, and that you’re doing well 🥰 I recently hit 300+ folllwers, like Sunday morning, and omg, that was the best thing to wake up too 🥺❤️ thank you those new and old for following and taking a chance with my account and sometimes trashy works 🙃 I’m gonna make a longer post at some point saying my thanks and discuss what I plan to do to celebrate 300 followers. It would really mean a lot to me if you guys chimed in if you have any ideas, after all, this is a thanks to you and I want you all to be involved! also, if you saw my recent rambles about how a draft was deleted, it’s referring to this post... what I had written got deleted TWICE in the span of FIVE MINUTES. gosh I was so pissed, I almost screamed. mobile tumblr is not it 😔 but here we are. I hope you like this. I tried to write this three times.... 🤡 also, since I am not a doctor or anything, I put a link to possible symptoms/what a “mental breakdown” is, that’s in the warnings, just click the link, it helped with my accuracy. 

Summary: s/o has a mental/nervous breakdown.

Parings: Xiao/Reader, Scaramouche/Reader, Albedo/Reader, Childe/Reader (all fem reader)

Warnings: angst, mental breakdown (panic attacks, stress, anxiety, ptsd, hallucinations, insomnia) fluff, swearing, mentions of death, mentions of injury

Word count: 3.5k (whew after tumblr DELETING this draft twice here we are folks ;-;)

requested by @mintyhuening​ 

​

Xiao

he knew you weren’t okay at all

Xiao knew the moment you locked yourself in your house

at first he thought maybe you were just temporarily feeling this way, but as the weeks passed and you hadn’t come out, he decided maybe not

coming from someone who enjoyed silence and solitude he could understand the distancing part, but it had been weeks, and even he needed socialization, so why hadn’t you come out?

you spoke to him through the door a few times, letting him know you were alright

he didn’t believe that though, sure you were alive, but not alright, he was mainly checking for confirmation to see if you were still alive while he thought of a good way to approach the situation

he didn’t want to invade your privacy, but he also hated the fact that you wouldn’t come out, not even to see him

it was lonely without you, he concluded

even for someone who enjoy solitude 

you were a careful creature, but never this careful and cautious...

were humans always like this?

eventually, he couldn’t stand it, and did find other ways to get into your house

he grew antsy after pacing outside your door for days

he found you huddled in your bed, a heap of pillows and blankets surrounding you

you were shocked to see him when he’d sat down on the foot of the bed, causing it to dip significantly 

“How did you get in?” You snapped once you saw who it was. 

“I have my ways.” He said raspily. With a huff of annoyance, you were back to facing the wall, away from the Adepti. 

“It’s dark in here.” He announced matter a factly, looking around the nearly pitch-black room, windows and doors covered by sheets and hefty duty curtains. “It’s how I like it.”

“It’s not healthy.”

“I don’t care, go away.”

Xiao was starting to grow impatient surprisingly, he truly just wanted to help, why couldn't you see that?

“Being passive is not going to help the situation, please tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing, I’m just tired.”

He worried. If he said the wrong, would you push him away even further? If he said the right thing, would you even care? Did you want help?

Xiao moved closer to you, hand going to touch your leg, although it was underneath the blankets, you felt it and did have to admit the affection was comforting.

“Don’t do this to yourself,” Xiao said. “Your friends miss you, I miss you as well.”

Maybe if you weren’t cooped up here anymore, you would start to come around. The room and house all together were very stuffy, dark, and depressing, he despised it.

“It’s beautiful outside, come with me,” he'd whispered. “At least if you don’t want to be around people, could you allow me to take you to a secluded area?”

“The fresh air will do you good.”

You were thinking about it, you had to of been if you still cared. 

“Fine, mother.” He watched with hope in his eyes as you slowly rose from the bed, and began

The outside world was very very bright at first, enough to induce a headache. But you became used to it the more you were out.

Xiao stayed true to his word like you knew he would unless you wouldn’t have come. You were taken to a very secluded area, there wasn’t even a path or road to it, just green luscious grass, and crystal core everywhere, beautiful blue and orange ones; Anemo and Geo respectively. You weren’t sure where you were, somewhere between Mondstadt and Liyue, you assumed. 

The fresh air did wonders, Xiao had noticed. You seemed to open up. Telling him a little of the problem. You had told him about how life was just stressful right now, you hadn’t taken any commissions in weeks, spoken to any of your friends Mondstadt, hence why they had come to him, accusing him of kidnapping and brainwashing you. He was offended, nonetheless let them know that wasn’t the case. 

The ever so secluded Xiao would take you out more, slowly introducing you to crowds of people, and would still take you on daily walks to that secret place you now called your special spot.

It would take a while, he knew that, and you wouldn’t be comfortable doing everything that others around you did, maybe not for a while. He could respect that, as long as you allowed him to help and encourage you.

Scaramouche

being a harbinger was HARD, Scaramouche knew that, even if he didn’t admit it

admitting it was challenging, could lead to always being doubted or seen as incompetent. therefore, no one mentions how hard it is

he had been off doing his duties when he got news that you had lashed out at a few lower rank fatui on your team, resulting in you being called in to meet with The Tsaritsa... let's just say she went easy on you because you were one of her highest ranking soldiers, if not, she would've severely punished you

you were forced back to your sleeping quarters immediately to calm down, told to stay put until you could stop “lashing out like a child” as she had put it

you weren’t one to argue against The Tsaritsa, everyone knew that was common rule... so you walked back as calmly as you could without snapping at anyone else

when Scaramouche had heard how you acted, he was annoyed

the always so calm and calculated Y/n, lashing out at her fellow members? he couldn’t help but be annoyed, despite it being completely out of character of you

he had finished his duties relatively quick, wondering why you were acting so out of character 

when he got back, he found you in your sleeping quarters, pacing in front of the large windows near the furthest end of your room

you were still wearing your typical combat gear, though your hair disheveled and body language looking extremely anxious, he hoped it was not yours...

“What did you do this time?” Had asked the violet-eyed man, carelessly throwing his hat on your bed, lean arms folding across his chest.

No response. 

“Excuse me, I believe I asked you a question.”

A loud irritable huff.

“Be quiet for once in your life, Scaramouche.” You hissed, anxiously biting at your nails. “Sorry- I’m just trying to calm down, but my heart can’t stop racing.”

Scaramouche wasn’t the most in-touch person with his feelings, and out of all the harbingers, he was one of the more difficult ones to deal with.

Surprisingly, he had shut up, despite finding it difficult to hold his malicious comment back.  

“What’s wrong?” Your lover asked, more softly this time. 

“My mission today was... hard. I know you said it’s important for missions to just be a one and done; no hard feelings. And you know I’ve always been that way. But this one was different.” His eyebrows furrowed, his forehead creasing in annoyance. 

“I can’t help but think about what they did.” 

“Did you get what you went for? I heard you sought after information regarding that Knight, Aether.”

“Yes, but-”

“I’d call that a successful mission,” He stared intensely, casually moving to sit on the comfort of your bed. Of course, he wouldn’t take this seriously. “Any casualties?”

“None of our men, but-”

“I don’t see the problem.”

“There were children, three little children, and those idiots just slaughtered them.”

“Ah... I see.”

Despite stating he understood, he really couldn’t sympathize with what you were saying. Those children were enemies as long as they worked against The Tsaritsa. 

Your voice suddenly cut through the silence, staring directly into his eyes, “What if those were our children?”

“They weren’t.” Your eyes rolled at his comment. 

“But what if!” He rolled his eyes, mocking your previous action. 

“But they weren’t.” He mocked for a second time.  

“You’re not helping, Scaramouche!”

“You’ll never understand, unless you see what I saw,” He knew you were right to some degree, but even then would he feel bad? A mission was a mission after all.

“They were begging me to protect them, and the youngest, she would not let go of my arm and then the next thing I knew, they were dead.” You continued, left hand going to grip your right, he assumed to show him where and how the said girl had gripped you. You were still shaking, this time being closer, he noticed how bad it was. 

“They were pleading, I told them I would try my best, and then-” He had long ago stood, making himself present in front of you. His warm hands had grabbed your shaking ones harshly, ceasing the trembling momentarily. 

“Please, be quiet,” The sixth harbinger snipped. “I don’t like seeing you upset.” Although it sounded harsh, he was trying his best to make it sound how he felt, even if those feelings were minuscule towards this specific topic. 

“Although, I don’t agree with you about this particular concern of yours- I will do whatever you need to help you.”

Albedo

now, he may just be an alchemist, but trust me, Albedo sees the signs before anyone, he has some sort of familiarity with them due to his incessant reading

and it may have taken him longer to see the signs because of how busy he was, but he saw them

he was no fool to the likes of insomnia, in fact he knew it very well, often staying up very late into the night and morning, sometimes for days at a time

he was cooped up in his lab and it wasn’t as if his body wasn’t tired, cause hell he was, there was just s much more to learn and discover, his brain WOULD not stop, 

Albedo hadn’t known how long this had been going on for, but he was seeing signs now

ngl, he didn’t notice that you hadn’t been sleeping properly until one night he decided to accompany you in bed earlier than usual (It was three a.m, yikes), and found that you were awake still

you were lying still on your side of the bed, and if it hadn’t been for the fact that he reached over to kiss your cheek, only to see your eyes open, he would’ve assumed you were alright and asleep

“You’re awake?” The ashy-blonde man asked, sliding into bed next to you. 

“Can’t sleep.” You shrugged nonchalantly, scooting closer to him, seeking his warmth and comfort. 

“You should’ve come to get me, I would’ve come to bed earlier with you.”

“It’s alright, I peeked in to see if you were still alive,” You joked, he chuckled. “You seemed very busy.”

“Yes, but, I thought I told you to remind me when you need attention, I often get sidetracked and enamored with my work.”

“It’s quite alright, Albedo. As long as you’re sleeping.”

He hummed, whispering tired words of adoration in your ear. That carried on for a while, as long as talking about the day's work and whatnot, until you eventually questioned, “Can I play with your hair?” The gesture was sweet, and that did sound amazing right about now since he was on the brink of sleep, but just needed that little push. But weren’t you tired?

“Aren’t you tired?”

You sat up, climbing behind Albedo, gently placing his head in your lap. “I’ll go after you.” A soft smile adorned your beautiful face. “You need sleep, you stay up for Archon knows how long.”

He selfishly allowed his eyes to close and waited for sleep to accompany him while you began untangling his two braids and ponytail. You played with and braided his hair until he’d fallen asleep as you said. You stayed up the rest of the morning though.

Eventually, probably out of boredom, you fell asleep for an hour or two around five a.m. Though, unfortunately, you were back up before six. You busied yourself while Albedo slept, starting with cleaning his lab. Albedo often did not like people touching his books, paperwork, and findings, but after instructing you how to properly take care of his stuff, he welcomed your help with open arms, seeing as though his lab was ALWAYS in shambles from not having enough time to take care of things himself.

Albedo surprisingly woke up around nine, wavy hair surrounding him like a lion, you chuckled to yourself at the sight. “How did you sleep?”

“Alright, considering my sleep schedule is nonexistent a lot of the time.” You nodded, bumping shoulders teasingly. “How about you?” 

“Okay,” You said, immediately changing the subject. “I woke up early, so I cleaned your lab, I hope it’s to your likings, Kreideprinz.” You teased, bowing at the waist.

The alchemist waved you off, with a smile. “We’ll see about your organizational skills after you eat.” 

How had he known?

“You haven’t eaten yet, have you?” Albedo asked, heading in the direction of the kitchen.

“That obvious.” You wondered trailing after him. 

“You always wait for me, darling.”

- 

“You look exhausted.” Albedo’s concerned voice cut in through the smooth Mondstadt breeze. You had been so distracted with the discovery in front of you, you hadn’t realized your boyfriend was staring directly at you. “When was the last time you slept?” He glanced back down at the discovery, still listening, but if you didn’t speak soon he’d be lost in his world again.

“A day or two, but-” Albedo probably got whiplash from how hard he’d snapped his head to face you, but now he was staring at you with features reading nothing but shock, cerulean eyes blown wide.

“I think your bad sleeping schedule is contagious.” You joked, trying to make the situation lighter-hearted. He didn’t laugh. 

Albedo was more serious this time, proving it when he faced you completely. “What’s been going on?” His voice was soft, but he was extremely worried. 

Nervousness built up in his lover's body. “Nothing! I just-” You sighed. Might as well tell him the truth, he’d coerce the answer from you no matter what it took. “It’s been harder to sleep after my injury from that ruin guard. When it hit me, I banged my head against the concrete, and ever since I guess it’s been hard to sleep.” 

“You could've told me sooner. I would have stopped everything and anything for you.” Yes, that was true, that was the problem though. You didn’t want to be coddled like a baby

“I know, I’m not sure why I didn’t... Naturally, I don’t want to worry you.”

He moved closer to you so he could cradle your face in his hands. “You can always tell me anything you know that.”

“I understand that. You’re a busy man so-”

“From this moment on, my work will be dedicated to finding a cure for you.”

You panicked, not wanting to stop his work for the likes of what you were dealing with. “What? Wait no-”

“You can’t stop me, darling. You take precedence over everything.”

Albedo made it his goal to do whatever possible to help you. Whether it be spending days in his lab making concoctions in hopes of creating something that could safely aid you with sleep. Or he’s in the libraries, reading all the books on the wellness and health of humans. He’s already on top of it the minute you expressed your concerns. In the meantime, he’s going to make sure he goes to bed with you much earlier, and won’t go until you do, to ensure you’re resting.

We love sweet caretaker Albedo.

(I understand insomnia can have other causes, not just a mental or nervous breakdown, but it’s kind of implied when reader hurt her head that she’s not well.)

Childe

Childe is simply not going to know your not well, he just won’t, it’s not that he doesn’t care, it’s more so the fact that he has a hard time paying attention to anything other than his missions and duties, he does not want to slow down

you have to show signs or tell him to realize

he decided to take a break though, seeing as he did promise you dinner tonight. he told you it would be his treat, since he did have a bunch of Mora lying around that he simply had no other use for

he figured a nice dinner and trip to one of the nicer cities with more to offer would be nice, he would buy you anything you desired

it was nearing the time for dinner though, and the reservations had already been made, so when he was left waiting, let's just say he was irked...

if you didn’t want to show up, you would’ve told him, so maybe you forgot? he concluded that couldn’t be it

the last time he’d brought it up, two days ago, you had been so excited you couldn’t sit still nor stop talking about it

asking a few people around town if you had been spotted anywhere, some said you had wandered off to Luhua Pool, something about there being a myth about special healing properties within the water

now he was even more confused

one, you NEVER went to Luhua Pool, there was never a need to do so

two, special healing properties? why would you need that? were you hurt in his absence?

you were his family, and he loved his family more than anything, so if something was wrong, he’d do whatever it took to help you

he traveled from Snezhnaya to Luhua Pool in record speed

he did find you eventually, the sun was setting, but thanks to the glowing water he could make your form out easily

you were hunched over, in what looked like to be some simple greenish cloth dress, he couldn’t see what you were doing, and called out your name

no answer

“Hey, what’re you doing here?” The orange-haired teen asked, crouching down beside his lover to see what was wrong.

“Cleaning.” You had said. That’s when his dull blue eyes traveled to what you were doing, watching with a confused stare as you scrubbed at what seemed to be clean hands.

“Hmm, I see...” He couldn’t tell if this was a prank or not, you usually played along with his teasing nature. “Are you ready for dinner?”

“Was that really today?” Your head lifted, leaving your hands to momentarily hanging in the air, water droplets dripping off into the pool.

Okay... so you did forget it seemed, which did shock him seeing as though you were over the moon, less than seventy-two hours ago.

“Uh, yeah, did you really forget? That’s unlike you! I’ve learned women don’t forget anything.” He teased, hand going to his chin. You hummed, turning back to do whatever it was you had been previously.

The harbinger frowned. “Do you still want to go? We can make it if we’re fast.” You sounded like a robot, much like a ruin guard, he concluded. 

“I’m sorry, not today, I’m dirty...”

Childe couldn’t help but chuckle, “Dirty? Sweetheart, you’re cleaner than most people I’ve seen, what’re you on about-” 

“The blood, it’s stained my hands, can’t you see?” Even after holding your hands to show him, he saw nothing resembling blood. 

“Are you playing games with me? Sure, it would’ve been funny any other day, not today though-” 

“You don’t believe me?” You sounded hurt, but whatever was going on, he wouldn’t feed into these... false hallucinations. “The townspeople said the same thing, they called me crazy...” You scrubbed even harder at your hands, letting out a frustrated huff. 

“I don’t see anything, I’m really sorry,” He said gently, reaching into the water to grasp your warm hands in his, “But if you continue to do that...I will see the blood.”

Childe was not sure what was going on, maybe some sort of PTSD? Although, he wasn’t sure where it could’ve come from... you’re not a harbinger or fatui, or anyone that is engaged in battle, etc. so it didn’t make sense. Unless something happened that decided to resurface now. 

He immediately took you home, hand in his to keep you from further scratching your hands. On the journey, you often asked, “Why are you even touching me? There’s a lot of blood.” 

He didn’t want to have to feed into whatever was going on, worried he’d damage you somehow, and he didn’t want to make you sound crazy, so instead he said, “Because I love you.”

When you both arrived home, he’d immediately laid you in bed, saying you appeared tired before going to search for a doctor.

Child will see every and all doctors in Teyvat and will pay whatever amount necessary to figure out what’s wrong, that’s for sure. Doesn’t take orders from the harbingers (not like he was anyways) and opts to stay close to you at all times. 

He decided to keep his teasing to a minimum, though he found that sometimes things slipped out accidentally, he’d do anything in his power to help you.

1.18.21, rayofsunas 

[waitineedaname]

"Accidently ending a phone call with your roommate with a casual ‘I love you’ seems like a very good reason to move out"

For benrey @ gordon?

“And can you pick up some oat milk while you’re there? I just realized I’m out.”

“Man, oat milk freaks me out,” Benrey said, pushing their shopping cart towards the dairy section anyway. “Like, do oats even have, uh. Others?”

“Others?” There was a beat of silence as Gordon attempted to figure out exactly what the hell Benrey was talking about. “You mean udders?”

“Yeah. Cow things.”

“Dude, that’s not how oat milk works.” Gordon’s laugh made Benrey’s cheap phone speakers crackle.

“Then how does it work? Huh? Mister scientician?” Benrey propped the phone between their ear and shoulder as they opened the fridge door to grab the brand of oat milk he knew Gordon liked.

“I don’t fucking know! I’m not a goddamn milk scientist.” Even through a phone call, Benrey could hear the smile on Gordon’s face. “They squeeze juice out of the oats or smush them into a paste or something. I don’t know. Stop making me think about how oat milk works, it’s going to make me not want to drink it anymore.”

“Cool, so I’ll buy milk with extra lactose then.”

“You will not, unless you wanna deal with me laying on the couch complaining all afternoon because my stomach hurts.”

“You do that anyway.”

“Fuck off, man.” Gordon’s tone of voice didn’t carry any bite to it. “Alright, I gotta go, I’m almost at the end of the queue to pick Joshie up. I’ll see you back at home, okay?”

“Mhm. Love you, bye.” Benrey hung up and shoved their phone back in their jacket pocket. They unfolded the shopping list and attempted to decipher the mix of their own chicken scratch, Gordon’s doctor handwriting, and the occasional misspelled request for snacks in Joshua’s six year old handwriting. Okay, they had to get those frozen chicken nuggets Joshua liked, another pack of seltzer, a can of black beans since Gordon was planning to cook dinner tonight-

Thinking about Gordon made them suddenly freeze in place as they realized what they’d just done. Did… Did they just say “love you” on the phone with Gordon?

Aw, fuck.

They’d been living with Gordon for a while now. It hadn’t always been an easy thing for either of them. When they’d been freshly respawned, both of them had been jumpy around each other at best, and at worst, they were at each other’s throats trying to kill each other. It took a long time and a lot of uncomfortable conversations for them to get to the point where they could interact without an unbearable amount of tension. From there, they were able to start rebuilding an actual friendship. Turns out, they got along a lot better when they weren’t in mortal danger. Who knew!

Living with Gordon involved a lot of rules, both spoken and unspoken. They involved stuff like “don’t ask weird questions about Gordon’s feet,” “if one of them gets too angry, walk it off instead of actually fighting,” and “no gross body horror in front of Gordon’s son.” It also involved shit like “please for the love of god don’t put empty juice cartons back in the fridge” and “don’t stain the carpets with Sweet Voice, this is a rental and that security deposit is worth getting back.” So far, Benrey hadn’t had too much trouble following the rules. They had been a security guard, after all; following rules was supposed to be their thing. Besides, they were a low price to pay to get to spend time with Gordon.

One of those early unspoken rules, however, had been “keep the flirting to a minimum.” That one had been a little tricky at first, but it had been necessary, especially back when they still weren’t on the best of terms. Benrey learned that when Gordon was already worked up, blowing a kiss did the opposite of diffusing the situation. This was news to Benrey. Who didn’t love a little kiss from their buddies? Lame.

That had been an early rule, though, and one that had kind of faded into the background over time. The longer they lived together, the more physically affectionate they both got, and a little domesticity is only to be expected when you share a household. It was nice. Comfortable.

And then Benrey had to go and say “I love you” on the phone. What the fuck.

That had to be crossing a line, right? Gordon was fine with some handholding and some cuddling and they’d make dinner together once a week, but this had to be pushing it.

Benrey went through the rote motions of buying the rest of their groceries without really paying attention, too busy panicking. There was only one option. They had to move out. This was fine. This was totally fine. They could just crash on Tommy’s couch until they find a place of their own because there was no way this wasn’t going to make Gordon freak the fuck out. As much as they loved fucking with Gordon, they’d learned there was the fun kind of freaking him out and the bad kind of freaking him out. They were fairly certain this fell into the bad category.

By the time that they were walking up to their apartment door, they were already mentally packing up all their things, resigned to their fate. They were so stuck in their own head that Joshua barreling into their legs when they opened the door actually startled them.

“Benny!” Joshua cheered, clinging to their jeans.

“Hey, li’l dude.” Benrey carefully tried to push past the kid without tripping over him on the way to the kitchen. Tragically, that’s where Gordon also happened to be.

“Hey, what took you so long?” Gordon asked, taking some of the grocery bags from them. “I thought you’d gotten lost in Costco again.”

Benrey grunted noncommittally and started putting away groceries instead of answering Gordon. Maybe if they didn’t look at him, they could avoid confronting whatever Gordon’s reaction was. Yeah, definitely, this seemed like a sustainable, reasonable decision to make. Yep.

“Dude.” Gordon’s hand suddenly appeared on their forearm. Benrey stared at it, then looked up at Gordon’s concerned face. “Are you okay?”

“Huh?”

“You’re putting carrots in the utensil drawer.”

Benrey looked down at their hands again. Oh. So they were.

“You’ve been acting weird ever since you got back from the store,” Gordon said, gently taking the carrots away from them. “Did something happen? You wanna talk about it?”

Benrey screwed their mouth up. No, they didn’t want to talk about it, but learning how to talk through things like adults was something they both had agreed to do. That had been a rule introduced by an exasperated Tommy, sick of mediating their bullshit. So, they sighed and looked away while Gordon put the carrots in the vegetable drawer of the fridge. “I was thinking about how I’ve gotta move out.”

“What?” Gordon stood up too fast and smacked his head on the freezer door. He swore loudly, and Benrey reached over to hand him a bag of frozen peas to put on the back of his head. “Thanks. But also, what? Since when are you moving out?”

“Uh, since now?” Benrey said, confused. Shouldn’t it be obvious?

“Why?”

“‘Cause I said I love you on the phone? Dummy? You, uh, a fucking old man got bad brain disease, not remembering things?” They said, defaulting to picking on Gordon to avoid focusing on anything else. Gordon stared blankly at them for a moment, then, against all odds, a grin spread across his face.

“Benrey,” He said, and Benrey decided he didn't like that tone one bit, “Are you embarrassed?”

“Whuh? No.” There was no way they could be embarrassed. That definitely wasn't what was going on here. Nope. Not a bit, “...Maybe.”

“Dude, you don't have to be embarrassed about that.” Gordon laughed. “Do you know how often I've said stupid Freudian slips? I called my sixth grade teacher mom once and wanted to change my name and move to Canada. I've been there.”

“It wasn't, uh… It wasn't too much? Not crossing a line or anything?”

“Nah, man. It was kinda sweet.” Gordon flashed him a smile and finished putting away the last of the groceries.

“Cool.” Benrey relaxed, letting go of the tension that had been building in their shoulders. “That's good ‘cause I was gonna fight you for custody of your Xbox.” Gordon snorted.

“Good fucking luck, you’re too much of a Playstation guy to win that case.”

The evening passed relatively uneventfully from there. Gordon enlisted Benrey’s help in cooking dinner, and Joshua eagerly told them all about the cool dinosaur facts he’d learned in class that day. They went through the easy routine of watching just one episode (which of course always turned into several episodes) of Joshua’s choice of TV, then Benrey helped wash up in the kitchen while Gordon put Josh to bed. Gordon joined them as they finished washing dishes and squeezed Benrey’s shoulder affectionately when they were done.

“Alright, man, I think I’m gonna head to bed early tonight.”

Benrey nodded. “Cool. I’ll be quiet.”

“Don’t worry about it. G’night, dude.”

“Night, Gordon.”

“Oh, and Benrey?” Gordon paused in the doorway of his bedroom and waited until Benrey glanced up at him. Gordon smiled. “Love you too.”

He shut the door before Benrey could respond, leaving Benrey to stare blankly at the door. They let out a groan, careful not to wake Joshua. Oh, Gordon was going to be the death of them.

[crowwritesaway]

Thomas Shelby Best Friend XIII

“Alright, what do you need.” Thomas asked Jade.

Zoey sat beside her. Let’s see if Jade is telling the truth.

“Well, I told Jade that you were the one that had insisted that Zoey should get help in London. Remember, you gave me the card with the doctors name and everything.” Jade ranted, pleading with her eyes that he would back her up.

Zoey clicked her tongue in distaste as she frustratedly turned away from them. Why can’t they understand me? Why must I have to explain myself? I’m fine.

Thomas looked at Jade. He was amused. He had waited for Jade to accuse him. Who knew Jade could be this naive? As if I would defend hers? As if I would take credit, I’m not mad.

Thomas pulled out a cigarette and lit it up. He took a puff and said, “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Zoey doesn’t need help. She has me and my family.”

Jade’s jaw dropped. Is he seriously gonna put this on me?

Jade stood up and raised her hand to point at Thomas. She turned to Zoey as she said, “He is lying. You have to believe me. I wouldn’t lie to you. How would I even get in contact with such a doctor?”

Zoey stared at them. She silently scoffed. One of them is lying. But who? How did Jade get in contact with that doctor? Sus amigas(Her friends) God knows her friend are a pain and despise me. Why do I care? I’m marring John. She can fuck off!

“Really, we did have a conversation. But that was regarding how you wanted to change Zoey and I told you, Zoey is fine just the way she is. I recall you mentioning that your little friends had the best doctor for Zoey. Come on Jade, lying is only gonna make things worse.” Thomas said in a patronizing tone. He bit his lip to keep himself from laughing at Jade. She looked so hurt.

Jade shook her head. She balled up her fists. He’s lying. No…no he wants me out of his way. What a prick! I’ll show him who I am. I’m not losing Zoey.

Zoey sat up straight and asked Jade, “Where’s your friends? Let me talk with them. On second thought, never mind. I don’t care. We broke up. Go have fun with Kai.”

Zoey stood up and dusted off her trench coat. She picked up her cap and nodded at Thomas as she left his office.

Thomas smiled at Zoey and waited until she closed the door. He turned to Jade and grinned.

“You’re lying. And you know damn well that you gave me the car.” Jade snapped at Thomas. She sniffed. So, Zoey was serious about the break up. I thought using Kai would make her come back to me.

Thomas sighed in disbelief. Jade is such a fool.

“I think you outta fix your story unless you want your mums bakery to shut down. Also, stay out of my way. You never learn. I’m not the one who hurt Zoey, you did it perfectly on your own. I suggest to leave her alone.” Thomas told Jade in a cold tone.

Jade opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by the door opening.

Pol stood there. She glanced between them. Oh, Tommy. You sure know how to get yourself in some trouble.

“Get out.” Pol snapped at Jade. That foolish girl..she never learns.

Jade flinched as she picks up her purse. She was afraid of Pol. Last time and only time, she snapped at Pol, Pol slapped her and then threatened her.

“I’m not done. I’ll convince Zoey. Just wait.” Jade thought to herself. Saying it out loud would be challenging Thomas and Pol. She can’t win against both. Going against Pol would include all her nephews and niece. Yeah, not happening.

Thomas rolled his eye as Jade slammed the door behind her. Pol sighed in distaste.

“I knew you were behind this. Are you mad? If Zoey finds out about this, she’ll go against you. She’ll most likely leave you if not kill you.” Pol told Thomas as he got up to pour her a drink.

“Nah, Jade knows if she keep insisting, she’ll lose everything. As for Zoey, she won’t find out. That I can’t assure you.” Thomas swore to Pol.

Pol shook her head as she took the drink from Thomas. She just hoped that Zoey never found out. Betrayal was a death wish. Zoey did not give second chances.

“Alright, a ring. What kind of ring do I get?” Zoey mumbled as she entered a shop. I know the stone is gonna be blue. An engrave quote as well. A personalized ring should do it.

She glanced around the shop. Let’s see, rings of all kinds.

“Hi, how can I help you.” A woman asked Zoey.

“I would like a personalized ring.” Zoey said, as she turned to look at her. Can’t say groom. If word gets out, chaos would erupt.

“Sure, it would take about a week or two.” She nervously told Zoey. She recognized Zoey.

“I would like it for tomorrow.” Zoey said, as she smiled at the woman.

“Umm..I-sure.” The woman answered. She would prioritize Zoey’s order.

“Thank you. Ohh, and the price doesn’t matter.” Zoey told her. John deserves the best.

Zoey looked away from her and spotted a ring that she liked. Oh, that definitely looks like ring I imagined.

She moved close to the ring. “Something like this ring. But with a blue stone. I want this engraved. Oh, and no one but me and you know I’m here. And it better stay that way.” Zoey told the woman as she handed her a noted. The engraving would be, La razon porque tengo una sonriza ( the reason why I have a smile).

The woman agreed, promising that she would keep their meeting a secret.

“Great. I’ll stop by tomorrow.” Zoey said, exiting the shop.

Stay around for more of Thomas Shelby Best Friend

[kywaslost]

Comforting Student Reader ft. Aizawa and Present Mic

Warnings: crying, bad times, death, mourning

Requests are open!!

Although no one knows it, he always keeps an eye on his students. He can almost always tell when someone is upset.

He noticed how your actions changed. You were always quiet and reserved, daydreaming from time to time. You would always turn your work in, getting mostly A’s with a few B’s. So when you started failing the class with F’s and D’s, Aizawa knew something was wrong. He also noticed how everyday you would space out even more than you did before. He noticed the way you acted, slow and solum. He saw how sleep deprived you were. You had missing assignments and late work, unfinished tests and work.

Aizawa confronted you one day after class.

“L/N, stay after class please.” You nodded, taking in a shaky sigh. This day cannot get any worse, you thought. The bell rang and you packed up, walking slowly to Mr. Aizawa. 

“Yes, sir?” you asked quietly, giving a fake smile. He sat on his desk, looking over you. Your uniform looked as if you had just thrown it on. Aizawa brought his eyes up to yours. He could see how dull the had become.

“L/N, what is going on?” Aizawa asked. You gave him a confused look.

“What are you talking about?” you questioned, although you knew exactly what he meant. Aizawa gave you a soft look.

“I think you know exactly what I mean,” he started.

You looked around nervously, avoiding his gaze. “I, I… I don’t know what you mean.” Aizawa stared at you for a moment, analyzing your body composition.

“Your grades have dropped drastically, you’ve started falling asleep in class,” he listed off. You looked away, ashamed. “Y/N,” he said, resting a hand on your shoulder. You looked up, surprised by both his hand and the use of your first name. “What’s going on?”

Tears welled up in your eyes. “Can you close the door?” you asked quietly. Aizawa’s face softened.

“Of course.” He closed the door and came back to you. He pulled two chairs to face each other and he sat down in one. When he saw that you hadn’t moved he motioned for you to sit and you did as asked. The two of you sat in silence for a while before you bury your face in your hands.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, silent tears falling down your face.

“It’s ok,” Aizawa said softly. “Take your time.” 

Silence.

You lifted your head and Aizawa’s heart broke slightly. Although he would never admit it, Aizawa would die for his students and seeing them cry made him feel bad. He saw the tear tracks on your face and leaned forward.

“Y/N,” he said quietly. You looked at him. “You know you can trust me, right?” You nodded, sitting up.

“Yeah,” you answered and wiped the tears from your face. Once you compose yourself you decided to speak. “I’ve just been having a really hard time lately. I’m sorry,” you apologized again, tearing up.

“It’s alright,” Aizawa assured. “Can you tell me why?” You nodded.

“It’s just…” you took a deep breath, “My dad… he, he’s a pro hero and a villain hurt him pretty bad. He’s, he’s my only family left and the doctors said that they’ve done all they could. 

Aizawa’s eyes softened as he stood, pulling you up with him. He pulled you into a hug, holding you tight. This caused you to burst into tears. Aizawa pulled you closer as you sobbed, clutching his shirt in fists. He used on hand to hold your head against him and his other to rub up and down your back in hopes to help calm you down.

“I’m sorry,” you sobbed.

“Shh, it’s alright,” Aizawa soothed, resting his chin on your head. He stayed with you until you had calmed down. When you finally pulled away you discovered how tired you really were. Aizawa saw it as well; the way you swayed slightly on your feet, the way your head bobbed down and how it took a lot of energy for you to keep your eyes open.

“Are you tired?” he asked with a small smile. You shook your head.

“No,” you slurred, rubbing your eyes and fixing your posture. Picking up your bag, you got ready to leave. “I need to get to my next class. I’m already late.” As you started to walk towards the door Aizawa caught your shoulder. You turned to face him and saw the look in his eyes. 

“Yes you are, I can tell,” he said, stopping you. “I can tell you haven’t been sleeping for several days.” He smiled, “you’re beginning to look like me.” You smiled slightly as well. “Come with me.” You followed him to a room connected to the classroom, his office. You looked around to see a cot against one of the walls.

“Rest here,” Aizawa instructed. You cocked your head.

“What about class?” you asked.

“Who do you have?”

“Mr. Hizashi,” you answered, yawning.

“Alright,” Aizawa smiled. “I will let him know that you are with me. Now, rest. You really need it.” He ruffled your hair as you nodded. He turned to leave the room before you stopped him.

“Mr. Aizawa?” you spoke. He turned towards you and smiled softly.

“Yes?”

“Thank you,” you said, smiling slightly as well. “For everything.”

“You’re welcome,” he responded. “But, hey, don’t tell anyone about this. I can’t go around with people thinking I’m soft.” You giggled.

“Ok.” You laid down on the cot, suddenly feeling extremely tired. Aizawa watched you fall asleep and smiled, knowing that you’d be ok in the long run.

Since Hizashi has such an outgoing personality, he always tries to make sure his class is awake and happy. He tries to make school exciting for his students and fellow coworkers. He always enjoyed how you smiled and laughed at his jokes. He even enjoyed when you would sing along quietly to the ear-blasting music he played sometimes during class.

What happened that day was hard on the both of you. On your way to school a villian decided to attack in your area. Because you live on the outside of the city, the big heros were not around. You watched helplessly as the villian with a fire quirk snatched your brother, taking him. You screamed running forward. Pro heroes fought against the villain as you ran forward to fight back.

“L/N!” Present Mic yelled but that did nothing to stop you. “Stop!”

You continued moving forward as Hizashi grabbed you by the waist and pulled back.

“No!” you sobbed, suddenly aware of what was going on. Hizashi’s grip tightened as he pulled you away from the scene.

“Shh,” he shushed, trying to calm you down. He dragged you into an alleyway. You continued to scream and cry, fighting against Present Mic.

“(Brother’s name)!” you shrieked. You tried to use your water quirk to escape but red eyes stopped you.

“Y/N,” Aizawa called, running up to the two of you. He kneeled down in front of you. “You need to calm down. You’ll hurt Mic if you keep it up. Calm down, ok?”

Something in his voice calmed you and you quit struggling. He smiled softly and patted your head, blinking. He stood and ran off. “Stay with her Hizashi. We’ll be ok.”

You fell limp and both you and Hizashi fell to the ground. You grabbed his arms and sobbed harder with each scream you heard.

“Shh,” Mic soothed again. He pulled a pair of headphones from his bag and plugged them into his phone. Pulling up Youtube Music, he typed in (favorite artist) and placed the headphones over your head. Hizashi picked a playlist, rocking the two of you back and forth. After several songs you finally calmed down, breathing heavily.

“You are alright,” Present Mic whispered, very unlike him. “Would you like to go home?” He realized you couldn’t hear him.

“How is she?” Aizawa asked, running back over to the two. He saw Hizashi’s headphones around your head.

“Much calmer,” Present Mic answered. “But I don’t think taking her home would be the best option.” Aizawa nodded.

“She certainly is not in the right state of mind to go to class.”

“I can keep her in my classroom,” Hizashi offered. Aizawa nodded. “That way she isn’t alone or have to go to class.” He picked you up and you didn’t bat an eye. You lay limp and silent the whole way to UA. When the three of you arrived to Mic’s class, Aizawa and Hizashi noticed that your eyes were closed.

“F/N?” Aizawa said, tapping your foot. Your eyes snapped open and you shot forward. Hizashi nearly dropped you as you landed on your feet.

“Wow, it’s alright hot shot,” Hizashi said as he placed his hand on your back. You pulled the headphones down to hang around your neck, looking up to your two teachers.

“You’re going to stay with Present Mic today, alright?” Aizawa explained.

“What about class?” you whispered.

“Y/N,” Hizashi started, catching your attention. “We just think it’ll be better if you stay with me.” You thought about it for a moment before nodding. Aizawa left for his class. Your puffy red eyes met Mic’s and he smiled softly.

“You can sit over there,” he said, motioning to a desk in the front row. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it to you. “Just relax, ok?” You took his phone and nodded, heading to the desk and laying your head down.

Hizashi kept an eye on you for the rest of the day. He even stayed quiet during his classes just in case you had fallen asleep. When someone tried to bother you, he’d get defensive and tell them to leave you be. He even brought you lunch, figuring you wouldn’t eat unless he sat down with you and ate. He kept a good eye on you for several months and talked with you to make sure you were ok. Let’s just say that you appreciate what your teacher has done for you.