#why didn't you tell me?

[ladybracknellssherry]

Why didn't anyone tell me this is a play on a bible quote? First time I regret being raised by atheists.

Can't believe some gay ass show got me reading the bible.

[just-a-silly-little-whumper]

Impart

Masterpost | Read on Ao3

Nathan has a dire run-in with Hunters. His father takes care of him.

For @whumpril Alt Prompt: "Why Didn't You Tell Me?"

Contains: Vampires, parental whumper, poisoning, caretaking, minor past character death

___

The moment he started waking up, Nathan regretted ever being familiar with the concept of consciousness. Electricity skittered up and down every nerve, a pain he couldn’t escape, even if he had the strength to move. His muscles were impossibly heavy, as though they were made of lead. Though he tried to search his memories, to remember what had happened, it was like trying to move through sludge, trying to hold water in his hands. Nothing made sense.

“Nathan.”

Matthias’s voice was a lifeline that he used to claw his way back towards awareness. It was the only thing that was solid, the only thing that mattered. The groan that he let out as he tried to open his eyes was soft and strained and sounded pitiful even to him. After what felt like an eternity, he was able to force his heavy eyelids to stay open; after another eternity, he was able to focus enough to see Matthias sitting on a chair next to his bedside.

He didn’t know what to feel about that.

“There you are, my son.”

Talking seemed impossible. But Matthias would want a response. “What— Father—?” His vocal cords felt like sandpaper, and his voice sounded as bad as he felt. But there was no judgment from Matthias’s even expression.

What did lie behind those eyes was something Nathan was too dazed and exhausted to discern.

“What do you remember?”

Nothing. He had absolutely no idea what had happened. But he knew that was the wrong answer. Brow furrowing, he tried to scrape together some semblance of recollection. “I was… on a mission. There were… Hunters?”

“Yes, Nathan.” He couldn’t read the tone in Matthias’s voice, not when thinking was like attempting to swim through stone, but Matthias didn’t sound displeased. “Go on.”

“I…” He swallowed, biting back a whine. Trying to remember hurt. “I killed them. One of them…” His hand twitched instinctively towards his side, though there was no strength behind it. “...One of them stabbed me. I drained them.” It had felt good, feeling the warm and adrenaline-filled blood bloom across his tongue, revitalizing and restoring him. So why did he feel so awful? “I… I don’t…”

“Shhh.” Matthias rested his hand over Nathan’s. The gesture instantly calmed some of the anxiety that had started to rise in him. “Relax, my son. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Father?” What happened? Why did everything go so wrong? Is it my fault?

Did I disappoint you?

“The hunters had been imbibing Strixbane, a concoction that is harmless to mortals, but extremely dangerous to our kind. A common practice among their ilk. By drinking the hunter’s blood, you exposed yourself to the effects.” Matthias’s voice was even, almost gentle. “Fear not. I have administered the antidote. You will be fine within a few days.”

Relief washed over him, and he sank back into the bed. It was a poison, but it was fixable. It was something he could avoid in the future. And his father was taking care of him. He hadn’t been forsaken.

Matthias’s gaze never left him. “Nathan.”

Something cold coiled around his heart. “Yes, Father?”

“You were not feeling well when you returned home to me. I could tell. Why didn’t you say anything?”

He didn’t remember returning home, barely remembered anything beyond the flurry of battle and the taste of blood. But he knew exactly why he wouldn’t have said anything. To avoid appearing weak. To avoid asking for help. To avoid doing anything that might risk disappointing Matthias.

His fingers tightened in the blankets, though his grip was weak. “I’m sorry, Father.”

To his surprise, Matthias squeezed his hand. “I’m not angry. Just concerned. Don’t do something like that again.”

Nathan was almost glad that he couldn’t read the subtleties of Matthias’s tone. It let him cling to the illusion that it was purely worry in his father’s voice. His eyes slipped closed, exhaustion pulling him back under, and he didn’t fight it. “Okay, Father.”

“Rest well, my son. I will be right here.”

[bg-sparrow]

Fandom: Back to the Future || Rating: T || Genre: Whump, Angst, Some Humor || Summary: In which Marty finds himself living an outlaw’s life alongside Buford Tannen in the Old West, where danger, death, and disease abound.

whumpril 2024 || day 09 - "why didn't you tell me?"

CW: branding

When Tom Ketchum’s men show up demanding a ransom at the rendezvous point instead of Eastwood, Buford shoots one and keeps his pistol in the other’s mouth all the way to their hideout.  They’ve had Eastwood for four days. He looks like hell, but no worse for wear. A day later, as they travel down a muddy, wooded trail, Buford doesn’t like the look of him. Eastwood’s breathing is too labored, his eyes too detached.  Something isn’t right. When they make camp, Marty, now gray with fever, relents. Ketchum’s brand is deep. Infected. “Why the hell didn’t you say anything?”

[taco-drinking-bleach]

Everyone knows butter lover right..?

Like the animatic posted 6 years ago? "WHAT IS THAT?!" "oh, I have no idea, but it fucking LOVEs butter" Like, I watched it when it came out. On my fyp and stuff. I never watched past the credits. They kissed. 6 years, and I never knew. My first r/suddenlygay

[what-am-i-doing-in-this-fandom]

She finally gave in and told Chat more about who she likes. He's not very good at cat-ching context clues

(in case you see this version alone, here's a little bonus I drew ;3 )

[egophiliac]

CROWLEY SSR THOUGHTS

there is zero basis for this, but I can't get this thought of my head

I don't know why I decided to draw it this way

[bixels]

The idea that uni protesters are "elitist ivy-league rich kids larping as revolutionaries" on Twitter and Reddit and even here is so fucking funny to me if you actually know anything about the student bodies at these unis. Take it from someone who's going to one of the biggest private unis in the US, 80% of the peers I know are either from the suburbs or an apartment somewhere in America, children of immigrants, or here on a student visa. I've heard about one-percenter students, but I've never met one in person. Like, don't get me wrong, the institution as a whole is still very privileged and white. I've talked with friends and classmates about feeling weird or dissonant being here and coming from such a different background. But in my art program, I see BIPOC, disabled, queer, lower-income students and faculty trying to deconstruct and tear that down and make space every day. So to take a cursory glance at a crowd of student protesters in coalitions that are led by BIPOC & 1st/2nd-gen immigrant students and HQ'd in ethnic housings and student organizations and say, "ah. children of the elite." Get real.

[nelkcats]

Therapy needed

Danny needed therapy, that was pretty obvious. After the whole "my future self killed everyone because my family died" thing it became pretty obvious that he needed to acknowledge his traumas and deal with them properly before another Dan happened or his emotions just exploded. The fact that his parents wanted to kill him and no one would acknowledge his death was making things worse.

So he asked his sister for help, but Jazz being annoyingly responsible commented that he couldn't become her patient, something about how personal feelings could cloud her judgment and family can't give each other therapy. Danny thought it was a bit hypocritical considering she used him as a lab rat with her psychology books but decided not to say anything.

The fact that Jazz could not be his therapist made everything 10 times more complicated. First of all because Danny had a trauma with psychologists (and wasn't that ironic? He blamed Spectra for that), and secondly that no one would believe his whole life story or keep it a secret. It was unfortunate that the Yetis were general health doctors and not mental health doctors because that would have solved his problem.

Just as he was about to give up and continue to treat his traumas as a recurring joke, Jazz introduced him to someone. Her name was Harleen Frances Quinzel and she was completely crazy, but according to Jazz she was excellent at her job. Danny had his doubts but in the end he agreed to have an appointment with her.

Strangely, Harley Quinn lived up to his sister's expectations, not being upset when Danny asked to change the decor of the place (Spectra had done a number on his head, common offices became uncomfortable for him), nor when Danny almost froze her by accident. Harley was patient, attentive and considered all his suggestions, accepting or denying as needed. Danny liked it.

The only complaint the halfa had were about the stalkers on the roof who were always watching him on his way to and from Harley's house, it was getting very annoying. One of them panicked when Danny came out crying - couldn't a ghost face his traumas in peace!?

[bunnieswithknives]

AU where the Winged Lion was just a littleeeee bit more 'selfish'.

[ride-a-dromedary]

"Halsin shouldn't be that big or muscular or look middle aged because he's an elf and the lore sa-"

I actually think he should be bigger and look more middle aged, personally.

[vaguely-concerned]

the way garak looks at bashir as he puts all the clues together at the end of cardassians. the sheer 'look at that little twink go (affectionate, sexual overtones)' energy he manages to convey in the background there as bashir passionately does the presentation of their group project that garak did 80% of the actual work on. immaculate

[stubz]

"Hey guys I got whooping cough."

"OH! OHOHOH! BEGONE SICKLY ONE! QUARENTINE RIGHT F*CKING NOW I CAN'T BE GETTING THAT."

"Woah calm down--"

"Do not tell me to calm down! Do you have any idea how contagious this shit is?!?!"

"Well, I heard but I'm wearing a mask and I'm literally on the other side of the glass wall, talking to you on the phone right now!"

"Like I give a rat's ass! I work at the child centre!! I. CAN'T. GET. WHOOPING. COUGH. BEGONE. NOW."

"Okay okay okay! I get it, going now! only like 8 of the kids could get it anyways...not even the same species."

"Love you!! I'll make you some cabbage soup!" with that she goes back to her lunch. Oblivious to the strange looks from her co-workers.

"Uh, what's whooping cough?" asked Op reaching for the salt with her tail.

"A very contagious human disease that gives you a nasty cough for several days to a few weeks."

"Oh, that doesn't sound too bad."

"Yeah but it can make you feel just awful and is actually very dangerous for infants, young children, and the elderly."

"How dangerous?" Fenrir asked

"Well...they could die."

*silence*

"Its not often though, usually rare, they're just more at risk. I mean I had it when I was a baby and look! I'm perfectly fine."

For a while no one said anything. Just eating. Until Fenrir asked another question.

"Why is it called whooping cough?"

"Because that's what it sounds like. The inhale sounds like a whooping noise. But according to my parents I sounded more like a barking seal."

"What does a seal sound like?"

"Hold on." she fishes out her phone and finds a video of a seal barking.

*Seal noises*

"...and what does whooping cough sound like?"

*Whooping coughing noises, which honestly sounds like someone coughing up their heart and soul*

"...how the f*ck are you alive???"

"I second that."

"My Dad tucked me into his coat and walked out in the winter air so that it would clear my lungs."

"That's it?!"

"Cold air is what saved you from death?!"

"...I mean I probably had some antibiotics but yeah. There's no real cure, just a vaccine."

"THERE'S NO CURE FOR THAT?!"

[bonefall]

I understand being upset by the moonpaw dog post but i dont think talking about some random teen publicly (on a pretty big fandom blog) as opposed to like, dming them about it, is a very nice thing to do? Would recommend keeping that kinda gossip in dms going forward personally.

??????? "That kinda gossip???"

Saying that it's fucked up that a publicly posted incest joke about how deformed she should look went to the top of the Warrior Cats and Moonpaw tags, is gossip???

TRENDING TAGS?? GOSSIP?

I'm not talking about "some random teen," I have not even dropped a username and been VERY clear I don't want harassment of anyone. During this discussion about wider ableism against Moonpaw, I've directly answered two anons about the contents of a post that was/IS extremely popular to the tune of nearly a thousand notes.

One of those two asks was an anon who only stumbled in to say that the post was funny in a display of SHOCKING tonedeafness, while I was talking about how shitty it is to compare people who are the products of incest to unethical dog breeds, especially in the context of WC. The other was an actual XX/XY chimera who expressed that the extremely popular post hurt their feelings, and when they tried to express discomfort to someone, got told they "probably killed their twin in the womb."

It's not just one rando weenie little blog the minute half of the Tumblr space is openly laughing at a joke about deformed incest kids and hoping Moonpaw dies because she's so "gross." Not nice?? Your feelings are hurt? OTHER people's feelings were ALREADY hurt.

NOTHING about this was "nice" to begin with!

Difference is, when YOU cry me a river, you can build me a bridge, and get right the fuck over it. A person who's the product of incest cries and has to go right back to every shitty banjo-hunchback-hapsburg joke they've heard before, just feeling more unsafe about a space that PRETENDS to care about the abuse they experienced. If you feel guilty about that, maybe you should!

If you were under the impression I was ever "nice" about bigotry, you were mistaken. I don't appreciate calls for ME to be more polite when I'm at a trend of fandom ableism and calling it fucked up. I've named NO names. Sounds like what you ACTUALLY want is for people like me who have a platform to shut up.

[tuinendraws]

I guess it must have been a glitch but in my mercenary tribunal Kim was standing directly behind Harry when Kortenaer took his shot. Needless to say, dodging that bullet was out of the question.

I have to admit, I was a little disappointed when I found out that this wasn’t really a scripted part of the game, haha.

[inkskinned]

this is sort of pathetic, but when you were younger, you were sort of puzzled by the cartoon representations of fathers: how a kid would be outside with a mitt, waiting to play catch.

it's not that your father never played catch with you, but you also didn't like when he did. something about a hard ball coming quickly towards your face doesn't seem exciting. not that you'd ever say you don't trust him. you trust him, right?

it's not like he never tried to teach you anything. or never tried to parent. on rare days, a strange person would walk in your father's skin. bright, happy, magnificent. this version of your father was so cheerful and charismatic that you would do anything to keep him. and this is the version of your father that would laugh and gently coax you try again. this is the version of your father that would break down the small elements of a problem and point them out so you have an easier time with them.

as a kid, those days happened more often. but somewhere around 11, you started being too much of a person, and he was often cross about it. when he'd try to sit you down to learn something, you spent the whole time with your shoulders around your ears, nervous, uncertain. terrified because you didn't immediately understand how to navigate something. worried you will run out of his goodwill and then you will have the Other Father back, and you will have ruined a good day for your entire family. something about you being visibly afraid - it just made him angry. he would accuse you of not wanting to learn and storm away.

on tv, it's not like there's a lot of versions of men-who-are-mostly-fathers. they can be good dads, but usually their stories are not told in the household. so it's normal that your father is there, but he's never around. you know he was in the house, somewhere, it's just not that you guys ever... "hung out". he just seemed to get kind of bored of you, annoyed you weren't made in his perfect image. frustrated with how much energy it took to raise a kid. over time, you kind of adopt a bittersweet band around your throat - he knows nothing about me. he says at least i never abandoned my family.

and it's technically - technically - true. he was there for you. sometimes he even made an effort and made it to the big moments; the graduations and the dance recitals. he grins and tells everyone that he taught you. it almost erases the days in between, where he complains because you need a ride to school. the weeks that go by where he doesn't actually ever speak to you. the times you say i am struggling and he says figure it out on your own. i can't help you.

and that's fine! that's all fine. you can call him if you are having a problem with your car. or if you need a ride to the hospital. he loves playing hero, he just doesn't like the actual work that comes with being a father. and you've kind of made your peace with that; because you had to, because you don't want to live your life like he does; the whole world at a managed distance, a little rotating and controlled orb he can witness and take credit for but never truly love.

as an adult, you are rewatching some dumb cartoon - and again, the child standing in the rain, with a mitt, waiting for their father to come play catch. as an adult, there's this strange creeping dread - this little thing? this little thing, and their dad can't even show up for that? oh god, holyshit, it's not about the mitt, is it. oh god, holyshit, your father spent most of your life leaving you hanging.

[saeraas]

they kept reigen out of the pathetic man tournament because they knew he was overqualified for that one