#and got the blood born disease lecture

[thisisallthehattersfault]

Someone makes a choked, shocked sound. Someone else yelps. It occurs to Ace, somewhere between the howling in his ears and the ache in his lungs and the taste of salt and iron flooding his mouth, that this is probably pretty surprising for his brothers to witness. Maybe even downright upsetting.

The thing is, Ace was wading into the jungles on his own as early as four years old. Dadan taught him how to do basic shit like talk and wipe his ass, but he honestly didn't have a ton of human interaction before meeting Sabo. And the thing about Sabo was that he had more than enough human interaction for the both of them. Ace learned some manners from Makino, but while Sabo was still around, there wasn't really any reason to get... good, at people.

But then Sabo died, and Ace needed to teach himself not only to talk his way out of trouble but also how to be the nice brother, how to treat Luffy with the softness he needed and deserved, how to gentle his hands and his voice and his words. So Ace did that, because he needed to, and it turned out to actually be pretty useful for dealing with people when he wasn't actively looking for a fight. So he stuck with it.

Which is all to say that by the time he'd joined up with Whitebeard, Ace was as close to tame as he had ever been. Almost downright domesticated.

Ace snaps his head to the side, putting some real momentum into it, heaving with all his weight until something tears. When he drops to his feet he springs right back up again, lunging. He spits out his mouthful as he goes, lets his jaw drop open.

The thing is, Ace is a child of the wilderness. He raised himself among that wilderness, and then he raised Luffy among that wilderness. He's a son of the jungle at heart, no matter how good he's gotten at pretending to be a person.

The sea-stone cuffs are chaffing his wrists. He feels tired and heavy, but he doesn't need his fire to be dangerous. Doesn't even need his hands.

Teeth find an artery. Body-hot blood sprays his face as Ace bites down, lock-jawed and snarling. Rears back and rips.

Another marine goes down. Ace spits out a chunk of the man's throat and is already rounding on a third. Notices, with a vague annoyance, that he's gonna need to find a toothpick -- there's a scrap of tendon or something caught in his teeth.

Mmm. Boar. They had pork for dinner, ah, the other night? Three days ago? Something like that, but it doesn't taste the same as wild boar does. And anyway, meat on the Moby is always overcooked. Ace is allowed to eat blue steak, but everybody always yells at him when he tries to steal bites of poultry or Sea King or whatever else while it's still tender and bleeding. This fight is giving Ace a real craving!

Duck. Lunge. Bite down, hard, thunder of a rabbit-quick pulse against his tongue, bulge of tender flesh against his soft palate. Iron and salt in his mouth.

Fear has a flavor. It is bitter and acrid, reminiscent of char, and Ace hadn't liked it much when he was young and still learning how to hunt. It stiffens up the meat, too, makes it kinda chewy. Somewhere along the line, he'd acquired a taste for it, though. He still marks it as a point of pride, his ability to hunt and kill prey without it ever knowing he was there, roasting something that is tender-sweet and gives easily under his teeth -- but the taste of fear isn't so bad either. Sometimes he even prefers it, gets a craving for it. Like wild boar, he hasn't had it in a while. Maybe he'll chase down his own dinner tonight.

Ace rears back. Muscle fibers split, skin stretches until it snaps. A heave, and a body crumples to the ground, gurgling. He gnaws kind of idly on his mouthful while he catches his breath, snorting blood out of his nose and straining his ears. Sounds like the fight's over, then.

Another lump of trachea gets spat into the dirt. Ace turns to face his brothers, counting heads -- good, it looks like nobody got hurt too bad, everybody is still standing! He grins. Ah, they're all pretty pale though, that's a little bit concerning, he hopes nobody's in shock. He learned from Marco that that can happen to anybody, even if they've been in a whole lot of fights.

"Hey!" Ace chirps. "Is everybody okay?" His wrists are killing him. Also, he really needs a shower. He's got blood in his ears, how the hell did that happen? But first he jogs over to where the others are all standing, clumped together, still just. Kinda staring at him.

Okay. Concerning. "You guys alright?" He asks again, lower. "Is anybody hurt? What happened?"

"Ace, man," Deuce says. His voice sounds kind of shaky. He drags a hand through his hair, fucking it up even worse than it already is. "What the fuck was that?"

#One Piece #portgas d ace #fire fist ace #feral jungle child ace my beloved #cat in human body ace my beloved #Do you think ace has ever proudly presented whitebeard #with dead marines or enemy pirates or whatever #the way a cat presents their humans with a bird they caught? #Do you think ace gets lectured about the dangers of cannibalism and blood-born disease #because he ends up with human blood in his mouth during fights so often #and he gets offended and confused every time the conversation comes up #he's not a cannibal! He doesn't EAT people! What's wrong with you! #he's just fighting!!! That's all!!! #Marco tries to explain that blood in the mouth is blood in the mouth no matter how the blood got there #Ace is. Not listening. #Luffy does this too btw #Sabo did this once before his memories came back #and got the blood born disease lecture #and then he gets his memories back and goes right back to biting people #because it's What Ace Would Have Wanted

[ask-the-domuques-scp]

Lethal Protection for Adam @o5-12? Can be from any of your muses!

Jack strode down the hallway, mind already filtering out the blaring alarms as white noise. He’d heard them so often, he barely registered them beyond their purpose anymore. Even within an alternate reality.

But they did have a purpose; the site was under attack. Not exactly the greatest concern to him, considering his situation and everything, but he still knew his protocol and followed it. It was as he was making his way out that he caught sight of the situation.

A quick look told him basically everything he needed to know; one person in insurgent uniform, another with the foundation logo on them, and a gun held by the former as words Jack couldn’t hear were exchanged. And that was all the information he needed to make a decision.

His own gun had been in his hands since the alarms first started, but it was lessons learned long ago in an old wheat field with empty cans lined up on a fence that brought it up and swiftly lined up the sights. The others barely had time to notice him before his shot rang out and struck true.

It was only after the lifeless body hit the floor that he had a moment to fully take in the scene, and finally realise who the other party was. His face immediately soured, a storm of feelings churning in his stomach as he finally registered the presence of one o5-12, otherwise known as Adam. Of all the people to see…

He turned away with a sneer. Of course things just had to go and be more complicated. Not that he regretted taking the shot, but…the mental image of this Adam and his own crossed over and blended in his mind, making him shake his head in disgust. He stepped over the fallen insurgent and continued on his way, not stopping to listen if the overseer had anything to say.

He’d just been following protocol.

#mod.txt #mod tries writing #ask meme answer #mod toacho #I’m slowly dragging myself back to life again #sorry this was so late #I debated having it be Celia and she biting an assassin to death. and getting lectured on blood born diseases #but Jack has more wibbly wobbly feelings about this #I’m so tired #I’m getting to the other in my inbox soon promise #plus other things in there #I’ve got only two days left of work #and then I’m crashing on the weekend

[zapreportsblog]

Writing Prompts

1. Ignorance is a disease so back up asshole, I ain’t trying to catch your germs

2. “Look around, what do you see? Nothing? Yeah, cause that’s how many fucks were given!”

3. “Your hot temper makes for a great heater.”

4. “You’re the cum drop your mother should’ve swallowed.”

5. “Don’t speak please, you’re lowering this whole neighborhoods IQ.”

6. “I’m in shock, see I’m wearing a blanket.”

7. “Fallings just like falling expect with a more permanent destination in mind.”

8. “Super weird.”

9. “Bitch don’t kill my vibe.”

10. “Flex tape, stronger then your relationship.”

11. “Bippity Boppity back the fuck up.”

12. “If I had a dollar for every time I was called ugly I’d be broke cause bitch, I’m gorgeous.”

13. “You think you got problems with me, but baby I don’t even think about you. You mad at everything I do, but what are you up to I haven’t a clue. Cause baby you’re dead to me, how can I be dead to you? You’re looking way too obsessed.”

14. “Leave me alone you little fucker.”

15. “God this is so fucked up.”

16. “Older shits teach littler shits shit the elder shits should’ve taught them.”

17. “When we get in here don’t touch shit, don’t look at shit, don’t ask for shit, because we ain’t getting it.”

18. “Be careful who you call a child because you know what that makes you? A pedophile! And I’ll be damned if I sit here and be lectured by a pervert!”

19. “Bold of you to assume I even think.”

20. “I will destroy you on this court yard, I will ruin all that you love, slaughter your hopes and your dreams. I will rip you limb from limb and stand over your fallen corpse, and once that is all over I will laugh at your misery. I will be your demise!”

21. “You guys are pros right? Then why does it feel like I’m going against toddlers that barley knows how to walk right?!”

22. “Thanks, it’s the trauma.”

23. “You better not disrespect me because who you gonna send to check me?”

24. “After all these hands are rated E for everybody!”

25. “Speak for yourself. At least I don’t have more conversations with the memorial statue then with actually people.”

26. “I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment or not.”

27. “I’m not really a murderer but when I play GTA 5; I turn into Jeffery Dahmer.”

28. “Being jealous is a disease, get well soon bitch.”

29. “ I know I’m handsome but having you stare at me is kind of a turn off.”

30. “No matter what it is, I always get what I want.”

31. “Cause I was born with this pretty face, so of course only pretty things can be worn by me.”

32. “ If I wanted to kill myself I will climb up your ego and jump to your IQ level.”

33. “Would you let me make a dildo of your penis?”

34. “Ya know, talk shit get hit?”

35. “Why is big birds emo son talking to me?”

36. “You know I really like confident women .”

37. “And I like men in my age group.”

38. “Run and I’ll break your legs. Attack and I’ll break your necks.”

39. “Listen there isn’t a single language on earth that has a word for how little I care. A super computer that calculates for a thousand years cannot even approach the number of fucks I do not give.”

40. “Once I find them I’ll peel their skin from off their muscles and feed it to the creatures of the forest, watching as they drink their blood like holy wine.”

41. “So let me tell you one last time so we're clear

42. You don't want to take the path you took to get here. If you pop that lip I will rock your shit. Stop playing with the fire, you are not that lit On monday you can get it! On tuesday you can get it! On wednesday you can get it! What about thursday? You can get it! On friday you can get it! On saturday you can get it! How about sunday? You can get it! And every single day you can get it.”

43. “ It’s heretopaternal superfecundation, mom had a threesome and got two mistakes instead of one.”

44. “As long as my fucks to care are flying around and no one catching them it’ll continue to be that way, no fucks given.”

45. “You must be into some kinky shit if you put your honored guest into chains and cuffs.”

46. “Mate, I’ll fucking spin your jaw.”

47. “It’s the borderline incest for me beloved.”

48. “Mhmm now apologize you fuckin goofy.”

49. “Now remember what I told you, walk straight even if you’re gay.”

50. “I can’t talk right now, I’m doing bad bitch shit.”

51. “If I hated any of you then I would’ve either killed you all off one by one or just left.”

52. “Why don’t you slip into something more comfortable? Like a coma.”

53. “I was not born with enough middle fingers.”

54. “My depression is vicious, but this ass is delicious. Dinner is served bitch.”

55. “You wanna talk about the seatbelt rule! How about we talk about the shut the fuck up rule!”

56. “ Hippity hoppity your grave is on my property.”

57. “You speak to your mother with that mouth?”

58. “ No, but I suck your father’s off with it.”

59. “I’m sick you assholes. Baby me!”

60. “Your first orgy! I approve. Especially the tall one. He'd make an excellent consort."

61. “What did I tell you about speaking of orgies so freely in front of mortals? It's weird. Especially since you're my dad. You're not supposed to approve of these things."

62. “Ding dong the witch is dead."

63. "This drink is my weakness and she knows it. Bitch."

64. “Because they're never gonna see that coming." You say, matter of factly. "They pull back the curtain like re-re and you're like re-re yourself, motherfucker!"

65. “And then you stab them in the eye. You thought the psycho was out there? Surprise! The psycho's in here with the Olay body wash on her."

66. “Oh shit, he's trying to say something. Quick get the Speak-n-Spell!"

67. “The total number of fucks I give are equal to the number of living relatives Sasuke has.”

68. “Haven't you seen my halo, darling? I'm an angel." 

69. “ Can I call you a waste of time? Because that’s what you feel like to me.”

70. “He looks like my depression in human form.”

71. “He looks like he could be my sleep paralysis demon.”

72. “If depression and anxiety had a child he would be that child.”

73. “Oh you shouldn’t talk so big it makes your height look bad.”

74. “Sucking the life out of you guys like depression on a Tuesday.”

75. “I’m lazy not stupid.”

76. “I can't be sad. It is a state of mind which is simply not accessible to me. But this doesn't mean that i am happy all the time because this emotion is suppressed, barely there. Mostly i am in a state of...resignation. Calmness. No matter what situation. I do feel getting touched. But i don't feel pain. At all. So none.”

77. “You could basically rip my eyes out and i would only feel a slight movement and a soft touch. I don't feel exhaustion. I don't feel hunger. Sometimes i forget to breathe. I mean...my body still does that automatically but...meditating can get pretty dangerous for me.”

78. “Think of it that way. Everything around us, is god. The cells. The air. Atomic bonds. Life itself. The movement of the leaves in the wind and the smell of the coffee in front of you. It is around us. In us. Something. Call it molecules. Call it Allah. Call it God. Call it Science. Gravity is god. Carbon dioxide is god. You. Are a tiny bit of god. God is just a word. Something, a word, a thought to share. A reason to life. Live itself. You don't have to be a Jew a Muslim a Buddhist a Christian or an Atheist to know, that the world around you exists. Maybe there is a Plan. Maybe there is a spiritus sancti. Maybe, there is a soul and maybe there isn't. We do not know. But we know of our world. We know of us. Maybe the cells in our body's weren't meant to mutate. Maybe they were. We do not know. But we can believe. That is the difference, between us. A believing and a none believing person. And the difference is, that there is none. We are the same. Thinking about the same, knowing and not knowing the same facts. Simply chose to call it differently."

79. “I’m not here to boost your ego Walmart Superman.”

80. “This is my ninja way.”

81. “They say I care I didn’t care when my dog died.”

82. “I really don’t think barging is the right word… strolled is a more accurate description, I think.”

83. “Of course. I’d tie them up. First I’d remove each nail and when it got inflamed, I’d dip it in salt. They screamed so loud, you have no idea. Then I start to amputate. I’d remove one finger each day, then the toes. Then the hand, then feet, moving my ways up. They wouldn’t die since I would cauterize their wounds. Then I’d play with them. I’d throw screw drivers, knifes, and needles at them. I have a terrible shot you know… or do I?”

84. “I rip their hair out with my own hands and feed it to them. I’d shove my fingers into their eyes till they pop out. The genitals are always last to go. Even if they admit in the beginning, I’d still do it. I’d then dump their bodies for the little birdies and critters to nibble at.”

85. “Treat me like a joke and I’ll leave you like it’s funny.”

86. “I don’t want you guys to think I’m some good guy cause if I got the chance I would sacrifice you all in a heartbeat.”

87. “You fuck me but won’t marry me! How does that work?!”

88. “Shut your mouth!”

89. “Oh I thought you liked it wide open.”

90. “I’m the person who’s gonna cut ya dick off and glue it to ya forehead so you look like a lilting unicorn.”

91. “Who the fuck are you?”

92. “Nobody gives me butterflies anymore, just anger issues.”

93. “Fuck you goatman!”

94. “Mentally sick, physically thick.”

95. “Congratulations, you played yourself.”

96. “I use my tears as hand sanitizer because there’s nothing riper then depression in it’s purest form.”

97. “Always in the sun, but no ones son is ever in me.”

98. “Well if he says I am baby then I am baby. Goo goo ga ga motherfuckers.”

99. “Is this a new technique for kidnapping kids?”

100. “Cry like a little girl. Run like a slave. But when I catch that ass boy, you gonna behave.”

101. “Call me a escalator cause I always let people down.”

102. “Call me a tree cause they always picking on me.”

103. “Call me my dad cause I’m never around.”

104. “Dark humor cause even orphans gotta laugh, shopping which is weird cause I will dead wear the same shit for a month straight, laundry - it’s something about seeing the clothes and everything drown that gets me going.”

105. “They play dumb I play dumber looks like we spongebob and Patrick now.”

106. “Roses are red, Memes are neat. I wanna die, LMFAO YEET.”

107. “If you feel like the world is eating you alive that’s just proof you always looking like a snack.”

108. “I know I’m hot, but I also know I’m not a full time hot person. I’m hit when I want to be. I choose my own hours. I make my own schedule. I do freelance hotness.”

109. “You have a build a bear as a principal.”

110. “I was gonna give you that vacuum cleaner gawk gawk 6000 and this juicy wet 🐱 till you leaked outta me after painting me white on the insides but it seems you having a good night without me so anyways goodnight ☺️.”

111. “Is this social interaction because I don’t really like it.”

112. “Listen if a guy doesn't man handle me during a makeout session or during u know 😏 I'm putting him in rice or sending him back to whoever broke him 😂.”

113. “If we dated before I turnt 20 you are not an ex but a childhood friend.”

114. “Can you wipe off my favorite seat oh I meant ya face.”

115. “Guess I’ll have to stick around, gotta keep you guys alive…for my own.”

116. “I never said I was an angel. Nor am I innocent or holy like the Virgin Mary. What I am is natural and serious and as sensitive as an open nerve on an ice cube. I'm a young black sister with an unselfish heart who overdosed on love long ago. My closest friends consider me soft-spoken. Others say I have a deadly tongue. And while it's true that I have a spicy attitude like most of the ghetto girls I know, I back it up with a quick, precise, and knowledgeable mind. My memory runs. Way back and I'm inclined to remind people of the things they'd most like to forget.”

117. “My vagina just said thank you in Spanish.”

118. “I look at you and go dry, like sand.”

119. “Told you not to call him shitty, now you look like shit.”

120. “You really don’t know someone till you’ve seen them beg for mercy.”

121. “Oh how their screams make me tingle.”

122. “Your words hold no weight against mine.”

123. “Well aren’t you Sherlock fuckin’ Holmes.”

124. “Don’t you know that threats only work on those that have something to lose? If anything I count death as my blessing.”

125. “Welcome to my abortion clinic pizzeria were yesterday‘s loss is today’s sauce.”

126. “Do you know Jesus is actually black and he’s all our fathers cause we haven’t seen him in years.”

127. “Do you know all the zodiacs have their own hairstyles expect for cancers.”

128. “It means I'm perfectly content but also wouldn't mind if the sun exloded right now and killed us all.”

129. “Every day I think I’m getting closer, gonna take a bath with my fucking toaster.”

130. “Are you a race horse? Cause when I ride you’ll always finish first.”

131. “You know what sea turtles and I have in common… we both like being choked by trash.”

132. “I’m gonna sound like a Victorian peasant but please sir may I have some bread? I rather not have some of that mystery meat.”

133. “Service error 11037: Go fuck yourself :)”

134. “🔫🐝 you are beeing robbed. Only thing that’ll save you is ya number. “

135. “Sharing is caring but unfortunately I don’t care.”

136. “He likes to play catch, so I asked him can you catch these hands. He said yes so I hit the living fuck outta him. What’s the problem officer!”

137. “Do you think when humans feel butterflies in their stomachs that butterflies feel humans in their stomachs?”

138. “I keep looking behind and hope to continue forward.”

139. “I’m sorry, is our friendly banter bothering you? I know you prefer to choke your friends rather than joke-”

140. “Are we even together together or are we together like high school musical we all in this together type shit.”

141. “Oh, because I’m so scared of a slenderman clone with daddy issues, who’s also having a sexuality crisis”

142. “Bitch, your pussy smells like hotdog water. Move on.” 

143. “You’re so cute…I hate it.”

144. “Look. I could be a whore, or I could be YOUR whore. Really; it’s up to you.”

145. “Oh, oh, oh my god. Choking is my main turn on.”

146. “This is my no no cube. Anything is possible if you have enough lube.”

147. “Aye baby you ever had KFC. Cause I can give you some of that Kentucky Fried Cock.”

148. “You’re not dummy thicc you’re dummy stick.”

149. “And you little stupid purple looking Barney looking bitch!”

150. “I was raised and surrounded by happiness, something you don’t know.”

151. “They put you in the streets but even the streets ain’t want you.”

152. “Remember reality is an illusion,the universe is a hologram. Buy gold, bye.”

153. “Better scramble like an egg before you get folded like an omelette.”

154. “Play stupid games, and you win stupid prizes .”

155. “Call me Ms.Water gun cause I’ll squirt you like one.”

156. “ I would say I’m like the ocean, I’m calm and peaceful and you can see my beauty on the outside but the further you dive into me you learn not everything is as it seems uptop. I’m calm yes but even calming things can be dangerous, I have my flaws the further you go in and things that are best left at the bottom of my ocean depths but do know if you are to disturb that sea level be ready to face the Consequences.”

157. “ i’m not interested in being disrespected by someone who I lowered my standards for.”

158. “Shut the fuck up before I fold your lanky ass like a chair.”

159. “Listen here, Snotball, don’t bullshit me. I’m ain’t come here for your public-pleasing fake smile. “Go polish your skills instead of sucking my dick…”

160. “ Nana whipped them highschool kiddies asses into shape that day, oh yes she did. They met they maker on them steps I tell you, now go and and play with this old timer if you dear I’ll send that ass to the pearly gates or the flaming pits below.”

161. “Let my hands speak for me, smack talk.”

162. “Why be a wallflower when you can be a Venus fly trap?”

163. “Out here living like the main character because if I’m not the main character, I’m that one bitch that go berserk.”

164. “Food is fun, food is great, food is why we celebrate!”

165. “I want my next piercing to be a bullet. In my head."

166. “Okay, rude. You have the Eminem’s hairline, but I didn’t say anything about it!”

167. “If I’m die, then I wish to go out on my own terms, for I am like none other person on this earth.”

168. “Criminal or not. Sometimes it’s nice to be wanted.”

169. “When I said I fell in love with you I lied. I fell in love with your entire existence, I would cry for you, I would kill for you, I would die for you. “

170. “Life is just a big movie, you just can’t pick your genre.”

#writing #writing prompts #writing prompt #spiderman across the spiderverse x reader #vikings x reader #demon slayer x reader #fandoms x reader #x men x reader #avengers x reader #one punch man x reader #black butler x reader #x reader #bnha x reader

[20moonchild21]

𝗦𝗲𝗵𝗻𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗵𝘁 [𝗯𝘁𝘀]

⇉ 𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 1

[Pairing]

bunny!JK x human!oc, Jungkook x female!oc

[Warnings]

mention of abuse, injures, angst, fluff, mention of blood, fear

[Words]

6k

[author]

Wow, I am so excited! Leave a like, comment, recommendation or reply under the chapter!

If you want to read a really good hybrid!Jimin story, you have to read inferiority complex by @starlightauroras-writes! She is the cutest author ever, and that story definitely deserves to be read! So don’t wonder if you will find some similar details, this chapter was inspired by her!

Stay healthy

Mꨄ

[prologue ||| chapter 2]

“All right everyone. That’s it for today. Have nice summer vacations, and don’t forget about the deadline of your term papers. The clock is ticking.” The man in the very front of the big room said into his microphone, but the chaos was already breaking out among the people sitting opposite of him.

The girl sitting in the front row slide her fingers faster over the keyboard, tipping in the last piece of information into her laptop, before she saved her notices and closed the thin computer.

She looked up. The room was filled with loud voices and cheering, as soon as the professor had laid his microphone down onto her desk. Immediately, people stormed out of the lecture hall, pens and paper balls were thrown all or some people yelled to each other from all over the room.

The girl sighed at this scenario. You wouldn’t think that were actually adult people, that would soon be representation the countries law and order.

Half of the people in here didn’t really care about studying law, or becoming a judge or lawyer in their future. The only thing they care about was to enjoy their college life as long as possible, which mostly included no stop partying and passing the exams with the minimum amount of points.

The other half, who cared about passing the final exams with as much points as possible, wanted to become either lawyer for economical right, because it was the best paid, or for political right, because such lawyer would always be needed.

And there was she, the girl in the very first row, who neither wanted to be a lawyer for economic right or political right, nor was she there to party trough the nights with her friends. No, she had another goal for her future.

“Miss Carson.” The professor said, as he walked around the table, looking amused at the small, blond haired girl, that was still, or better said already, reading in one of her law books. “Yet again, I see you reading in a book. Do you ever do anything else?”

The girl looked up from her book, a small smile was forming on her face.

“Yes, I do.” She said and closed the thick book. “But I want to get as much information as possible for my term paper. I really need it to be perfect. It needs to be proof to any loopholes, and I think am on something big this time.”

The professor’s left eyebrow cocked up in surprise. If someone had not to worry about getting not enough points to pass this last hurdle, it was her.

“Is that so?” He joked, leaning slightly against the big, brow desk, arms crossed over his chest. “You know that you always deliver the best terms. I don’t think you have to worry about anything.”

The girl, who was now occupied with pressing the big book into her backpack, stopped in her movements. She knew that she was one of the best students, and she also knew that she could pass those exams with little effort. This wasn’t the problem.

"I know.” She simply said and looked up at the old man leaning on the desk. “And thank you.”

“I am really excited for your terms. What topic do you write about this time?” He asked curiously.

The girl hesitated for a moment, not sure if she should tell him or not. Her final paper terms, the terms that would decide whether or not she would get a chance to fulfil all her goals, were about a very sensitive topic. She was a 100% aware of this.

But then, he would read them either way, so there was no point in lying to him.

Her heart raced, as she opened her mouth. She had known her professor of law for almost 4 years now, but writing about such a sensitive topic, she didn’t know what his opinion was on that.

“I – ehm…” She coughed, before turning back to her backpack, pressing the book into it with one smooth movement. She closed the flap and swung the piece of fabric over her shoulder, before turning back to the older man. It was now or never, she had to show confidence. “I write about the equality of Hybrids in our political everyday life. I think – there are cases where laws had obviously been disregarded, ignored or misused by judges and lawyers. And there are not just one or two of such cases. There are hundreds of them every day, there are hundreds of Hybrids who don’t get the right of protection and free speech. There is no point in denying and ignoring this anymore.”

To say that his face held a shocked expression would be an exaggeration. He looked more like he tried really hard to process the information and to find a fitting response to it. After a few seconds of silence, he opened his mouth, just to close it again. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose between the index finger and thumb.

“Hope…” He said after another few seconds. “You are aware of me being not the only one who is going to read your term papers, aren’t you?”

“I know.” The girl whispered, still staring directly into his eyes.

“I appreciate your braveness to write your final exams about such a sensitive topic, and I am not going to lie, most of the professors committee won’t share the same opinion as the one you have.” His voice was calm and factual, but the girl somehow heard a touch of sadness out if it. “Are you sure you don’t want to write about political law? Your last exam was absol…”

“My term is based on facts. I neither made anything up, nor am I going to tell lies.” The girl quickly interrupted him. “There is no way someone of the committee can reject or doubt any part of my exam. I analysed every potential loophole and I can prove any of those lacks wrong, if someone say something. I even…”

“Okay, okay. I believe you, Hope.” The professor said, as he pushed himself away from the table, slowly walking up to the smaller girl. “I just want you to carefully think about what you want to specialize in the future. Hybrid lawyers are very little paid, and almost none of them gets any appreciation. You are aware of that, aren’t you?”

“I am not doing this for money or appreciation.” She quietly said under her breath. She knew he didn’t mean to sound harsh or mean towards her, but still, those words hurt. “I just – I think that I can change something in this world. There are so many people out there, that share the same opinion as I do, but are not brave enough to stand up and do something. But if I would go public with my mission, I think – I think something could really change.”

The man was still looking at the girl. He was stunned by the passion and emotions she spread while talking. He knew that her mission, as she called it, was the right thing to do in this world and that the things she said were true, but he also has been living long enough on his world to know how reality works.

He sighed as he moved his gaze away from her. Somehow, she reminded him of himself, when he way younger. She had a big heart, and a strong urge to question the thing people tell her. That made her one of the best students of his class.

“Okay.” He simply said and turned around to leave the room, but one last time he turned around. “Just be careful, Hope. This world can be hard. It will destroy you, if you are careless.”

“I will prove you that this will be worth it.” She yelled after him, as he passed the door leading to the hallway. She knew he couldn’t hear her next words, because they came out as a whisper, a promise to herself. “I know it will worth in the end.”

The night sky above New York was clear. Not a single cloud could be seen, and the dark sky looked like it was sprinkled with thousands and millions of small, shining dots. Right in the middle, the round an bright moon.

The girl took a deep breath of the clean air. It was definitely the right choice to rent an apartment a few minutes outside of New York’s centrum, where the day never seemed to take an end. But here, there were not much car driving by and pollute the air. There weren’t many people to scream at each other, because in the city trouble you couldn’t understand a word. Just peaceful silent.

The conversation from earlier was still playing round and round in her head. Her professor wasn’t a bad person. In the past, he was nothing but helpful and cooperative when it came to sensitive themes or problems. But in the end, he was like any other human: he kept his mouth shut and saved himself a lot of trouble.

But could she mind that behaviour?

Way down deep inside of her, she felt something. She just felt that deep inside of her, there was a small flame flickering. It was waiting there to be lightened with something, and she just knew that she was meant to change something.

She felt this sparkle since she was a little child. The name ‘Hope’ was given to her by her mom. Hope was born in 2029, shortly after the first Hybrids were created. Her birth caused a lot of trouble. Being born with a heart disease, the doctor predicted her to be dead within the following hours. But she hadn’t died. She survived because she got a second chance to live.

With 9 years, she had her very first encounter with a Hybrid. Her mom, who was a doctor at the local hospital, was called late in the afternoon. She was a single mom at this time, and with no one there to take care if the small girl, she decided to take her with her to the hospital.

The hospital was a very big building right in the middle of New York. It was about 10 stories hight, with several different areas for different people. They had a special section for children, for chirurgical cases, a section for people with cancer, a section for people who were about to die and want to spend their last day in a nice surrounding , and lastly, they also had a section for injured Hybrids.

Since Hybrids were half animal, half human, you couldn’t just give them to the veterinarian. This was the reason that the politicians decided that every hospital had to create a small section for Hybrids. Always isolated from the rest of the population, because some citizens were still afraid of the new creatures, and they insisted on locking them up for safety reasons.

The small, blonde haired girl had been strolling around the large building, while her mother was needed in the operation room. She hadn’t paid any attention to where she was going. Everything in that hospital had been so interesting for this small girl, she just wanted to pull in everything she saw.

As she had passed one of the patients room, she suddenly saw a movement in the corner of her eyes. She turned around. On the other side of the glass window, stood a small boy her age.

He was just standing there, staring back at the girl with wide eyes. He had shaggy brown hair that fell smoothly over his forehead, big dark eyes and was slightly taller than the girl.

But what fascinated her the most about this boy, was the pair of white ears sitting on the top of his head. They were small, covered by thick, fluffy white fur and looked absolute adorable.

She took a step closer to the boy, who was still staring at her, the same way she was staring at him.

His ear twitched slightly to different sides, as if he was trying to hear or sense ever noise coming from around him. Behind the boy, Hope saw something waving through the air. She gasped slightly, when she recognized it to be a white, fluffy tail swinging slightly through the air.

The girl had heard stories from her friends in school, that Hybrids are dangerous. They said that they would attack people if one wouldn’t be careful. They said that Hybrids don’t have control over their animal side. They said Hybrids would turn into beasts as soon you were alone with them. But this boy didn’t look scary at all. He rather looked pretty innocent and… somehow scared.

She was fascinated by this boy. She wanted to get to know him so badly all the sudden.

The girl lifted her hand, that had limply hung by her thigh. She took a step closer and carefully laid her hand on the cold, glassy window. The boy stared at her hand. His ears had stopped twisting around, and were instead standing high in the air, his eyes were wide open.

He looked down at his hands, and was about to lift it as well, when suddenly a nurse came up behind the small girl.

“What are you doing there?” She almost screamed, as she grabbed the girl by her shoulders, pulling her away from the window. “You can’t just stroll around in this section. It’s dangerous.”

The woman was pulling the girl behind her, further and further away from the boy. When Hope turned around one last time, her heart broke. The boy’s ears were flatly pressed against his head, while he fluffy tail was tightly wrapped around his leg. His eyes showed nothing but sadness.

In this moment, the girl new that this boy was threatened wrong. Why would it be dangerous for her to be with him. She just couldn’t believe someone as cute as this boys would be able to hurt someone. He was just a child.

Hope shook her head at this memory. She was still wondering what his name was, what kind of Hybrid this little boy was and why he was in the hospital. She wondered what happened to him after she was pulled away, and if he was doing fine right now. Maybe he was thinking about the moment with the 9 year old human girl too sometimes. Maybe he –

A sound ripped her out of her thoughts. She flinched heavily but stopped in her tracks, not sure if her brain had tricked her. She turned around to both side, looking for something that could have caused such a noise. But there was nothing.

Confused, she started walking again. She was clearly overworking herself, if she was already hearing strange noises. Luckily, her apartment was just around the corner. Just one more minute. As she kept walking, she slung her arms tightly around her waist. The air of the night was suddenly much colder that a few minutes before, and with just a thin cardigan to cover her, she felt slightly cold.

Crack. Crash.

The girl shrugged when a crashing sound rang through her ears. This was obviously not an imagination from her brain. That noise came from the dark alley, that she was just about to pass. Immediately, she took a small step backwards.

If someone was hiding in there, waiting for the right moment to come out and hurt her, there would be nothing she could defend herself with. A shiver ran down her spine. She should take her feet and ran away from that scary, dark alley like her mother had always told her, but somehow she couldn’t. Something was pulling her towards that dark passage.

She gulped loudly, but decided to take the risk.

“H – Hello?” She carefully called into the darkness, hoping to not get an answer, so she could just keep walking home. But if someone was hurt in there, she had to help him or her.

“Hello? Is someone there?” She called again when she didn’t received an answer.

She carefully took another step forward, trying to make something out in the darkness. Further down the alley, she saw the faint outline of some trash dumpsters standing around, surrounded by many trash bags.

She let out a breath of relief. No one was in there. It was probably just a cat jumping onto one of the dumpsters, which caused that noise. She turned around, and started walking again, when suddenly she heard another, clearer noise.

“mmmhhh…”

This time she was sure that it was a person causing that noise. With shaking legs, Hope decided to walk a little further into the alley. If someone was lying there hurt, he probably couldn’t answer her calls. And if someone was waiting there for her…..she didn’t want to think about it further.

She took baby steps into the dark alley, still careful if someone was hiding there. When she was about 5m inside the dark passage, she was completely surrounded by darkness. She couldn’t make out a single outline of something, not even of the dumpsters.

With shaking hands and no other idea left, she grabbed for her phone inside her pocket. She pulled it out and clicked on the small flashlight symbol.

With the small source of light, she tried to make something out.

About 3 meters in front of her, she saw a red, brick stone wall climbing up into the air. A dead end.

She aimed the light into the right corner, where she saw nothing but trash bags and dust laying messily around. Some of them were ripped open by cats, giving away a heavy and disgusting stank. She wrinkled her nose. People were so wasteful these days…

She aimed the light into the other corner, where the trash dumpsters were placed. It was tight and trashed there as well. No chance someone could hide here. It was probably just the cat theory or she really got paranoid. She shook her head and was about to leave again, when something caught her eyes.

Between the wall and the last dumpster was a small crack left, a crack with bare feet sticking out. The girl tried to hold back a scream. She only saw that pair of bare feet. Nothing more. Would there be a body to those feet? If yes, which body, and if no….

“H – Hello?” She whispered/yelled again. “Who are you?”

When she aimed her light into the direction of the feet, they were pulled away with a sudden movement, now hidden by the dumpster. The girl took a deep breath, as she forced herself to take another step forward. She aimed the light once again in the direction of the crack. She saw those feet again, and this time even more. She could make out a pair of legs connected to the pair of feet, along with two arms, that were tightly wrapped around the legs.

She could tell that this someone was a boy, because his hands and feet looked much bigger than hers. Slowly, Hope bent her knees so she was on the level of his sitting body. He obviously was scared, and her standing above him, flashing him with her flash lights wouldn’t probably help him to feel less scared.

When she sat on her knees, she lifted the light again, letting it rose up his body. His feet and calves were bare, as well as his arms. Everywhere on his pale skin, she could make out smaller bruises and scratches. His feet and fingers were ripped open and bloody, and his arms and legs were almost as thin as hers.

But she was even more shocked when the light hit his face. The biggest pair of brown eyes she had ever seen were staring back at her, filled with nothing but pure fear. His plump cheeks were covered with dirt, bruises and wet stains of tears. His lips were bloody and crusty, also covered in dirt and dust. His dark, shaggy hair was covering his forehead, and on the top of his had sat a dark pair of large floppy ears.

The boy quickly seemed to snap out of his shock stare, when he realised the girl staring at him, not saying anything. He tried to push himself further backwards towards the wall. The arms around his bent knees tightened, as he let out a small whimper. His floppy ear moved forward to cover his eyes from her gaze.

It was obvious that this boy was a bunny Hybrid ,but that didn’t change the fact that Hope was shocked from the boy‘s appearance. He clearly needed help.

„Hey....boy.“ She carefully whispered into his direction, not wanting to scare him more away by a loud voice.

But despite her effort to not sound too scary, the injured boy began to slightly shake stronger.

„Hey...don’t be scared. Please, I don‘t want to hurt you. I promise.“ She felt the tears swelling up under her eyes.

The poor boy must have been through hell and back, or else he wouldn’t be reacting like that. She was pretty sure that someone had caused those injures on his body. It was ridiculous to talk about a change of minds, when the truth was, that nothing had changed at all. Human race was still as ignorant and careless and addicted to control as they have been before.

The girl took a deep breath. She needed to stay calm and focused, or else the bunny Hybrid would feel her fear. After all, his senses were animal-like, and he had probably heard her heartbeat or smelled the sweet running down her neck.

A loud, deep noise caused a yelp leaving the girl‘s and the boy‘s mouth. The sky above them had darkened with heavy clouds, and the smell of rain slowly replaced the clear night air. She turned her attention from the sky, back towards the boy who was ,once again, shaking with fear.

Hope knew what she was going to do next would be a heavy invasion of his privacy, but it was the only way, that might would help him in this situation.

She slowly let the backpack sliding down her shoulder, careful to not make too much movements. When it laid down on the floor, she pulled down the zipper of her grey cardigan.

The zipping noise that her jacked had caused, must have made the Hybrid curious, because almost unnoticeably, he lifted his right ear that was still covering his eyes. Through the small gap, he carefully peeked at the girl in front of him, watching as she pulled off the jacket, leaving her in just a thin, blue shirt.

A whimper left is mouth, ear covering his eye again, as the girl crawled closer into his direction, stopping just a few inches away from the bunny Hybrid. She leaned her body forward and placed the soft piece of fabric over the boy’s trembling shoulders. She didn’t know if the trembling had increased because she came way too close to him, or because of the sudden coldness that filled the alley way.

„No...p – please...no.“ The boy tried to pull away weakly, as his shoulders were met with the soft fabric of the jacket.

His was raspy and cracked a few times as he spoke.

„Please, don’t be afraid of me.“ The girl tried again to win a small amount of the boy’s trust, so he would at least look at her. „I am not going to hurt you. See, the jacket is warm, isn’t it?“

The boy didn’t answer. He just kept sitting on the ground, with his arm around his knees and his eyes closed.

Meanwhile, the clouds had started to let go their watery content, and small wet drops fell from the ground.

„Please, you need to come with me. It’s not safe out here at night, and a thunderstorm is raising up.“ Her voice was almost begging for him to trust her. She didn’t want to leave him here alone, injured and all by himself. „My apartment is warm, and I have food and something to drink for you. Please, trust me.“

The boy didn’t move an inch. He curled himself further together, hiding away from her. It was more than obvious that he was scared, and slowly she was losing hope that he would come with her. Plus, she couldn’t force him either.

She sighed and slowly stood up from her kneeling position.

„I will be back.“ She simply said to the boy, as she turned around to leave the alley.

Thanks god her apartment was just one minute around the corner. If he didn’t want to come with her, she would at least bring him a warm blanket for the night and something warm for his stomach. He must be freezing so much with just a pair of shorts covering his slim body.

She was about to start walking, when she heard him whimpering behind her again. The Hybrid had removed both of his ears from his eyes, which were now staring at her intensely. As if they were begging her not to leave the alley. She kneeled back down onto his height.

„You don’t want me to leave, do you?“ It was more a question to herself, but to her surprise the boy nodded almost unnoticeable. His eyes were opened wide and glassy, as his lips began to tremble slightly.

Meanwhile in his head, he was battling with himself. He was injured and cold, and this girl promised him a warm place to spend the night. She had a really soft and calming voice, that he would listen to all night of he had the chance.

But then, she wanted to leave him. Not that he was not used to that, but no one ever had talked to him in such a calming voice. For a short moment, he really believed that everything was going to be okay again.

„My apartment is just around the corner.“ The tone of her sweet voice rang through his ears again. „I won’t force you to come with me, but you are welcome to spend the night there, if you like.“

„Home, Sweet Home.“ The girl joked as she pushed open the white door leading into her apartment.

When the boy behind her didn’t show any reaction but staring at her, she eventually noticed that her joke wasn’t appropriate referring to the situation they were in. A shade of red began to spread over her cheeks, and she quickly stepped inside.

The boy meanwhile hesitate to step inside. He shoved his bare feet back and forth over the cold marbled tiles of the hallway, while his fingers fiddled the hem girl‘s jacket. His eyes were fixed on the ground.

„You can come inside, you know?“ She said with a soft voice, as she held the door open for the Hybrid boy.

When the boy took the first step inside, he immediately was surround by the most comfortable warmth he had ever felt before. Slowly, it flowed under his skin, filling every last corner of his body.

His feet didn’t touch some cold marble anymore. Instead, the wooden piles felt soft and also warm under his bare feet. He didn’t knew that the floor could feel this soft.

But the most prominent thing hitting him, was the smell filling his nose. The apartment smelled like....the girl.

The scent of a living being was something very special. The smell wasn’t something you could compare to the smell of vanilla or green apple or the smell of sweat. It was more like a kind of an aura that surrounded a human or Hybrid. An individual feature, that most human aren’t aware of, but yet, everyone has his own scent.

“Ehm…” The girl in front of him cleared her throat, and the Hybrid could smell how uncomfortable she felt.

Scared of being punished, he took a small step backwards, pressing his ears closer to his head. This gesture wasn’t unnoticed by the small girl. She took a big step back as well, carefully not to make her movements to jerky.

“I am sorry.” She quickly rambled. “I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. I just – I just don’t know what to say. I – Oh my god, you must feel so cold. I will get you some clothes. Just wait here.”

The boy watched her slim form disappear behind a door down the hallway. A few seconds later, she came back with a pile of fabric in her arms. He wondered what she wanted to do with them.

“I am sorry, but I don’t have any male clothes.” She said, as she dropped the pile onto the grey sofa, which stood in the corner of the living room. “But – but this are my largest clothes. Maybe they will fit you?”

The boy was still standing by the door, looking with wide eyes around the room, before their gazes met. He wasn’t looking in the clothes that were sprawled out for him on the sofa. Instead, he kept looking at the girl, but not as if he was studying the girl’s features, more like he was waiting for a comment.

Unsure what to do, Hope stepped a few inches away from the couch, wanting to give him more space.

“You can try them on. Just – just choose the ones you like.” She almost whispered, as she pointed her finger onto the clothes.

Though the boy nodded, his head dropped down. His hands were slightly shaking, as he made small baby steps towards the sofa. Carefully, he lifted his hand up towards his shoulder and pulled off the grey cardigan she had given him earlier. He placed it carefully onto the sofa, looking up at the girl, as if he was waiting for a permission to keep going.

It took Hope everything to not stare at the bruises and scratches that were covering his upper body. Trying not to break down in tears, she forced out a smile and nodded, showing him that it was okay to keep going.

He then he did something she hadn’t expected. Without showing any hesitation or shame, he grabbed the hem of his dirty shorts and pulled them down.

“Oh – ehm – okay. You want to change here.” She quickly turned around, not wanting to invade his privacy even more. But by the way he didn’t show any hint of hesitation, she could guess that he was not used to get any private space. “Okay keep changing, I will just go to the kitchen and make something quick to eat.”

With her head as red as a tomato, she made her way over to the kitchen. Luckily, the kitchen was connected with the living room by small hatch, so he would see her and she could watch him.

Her hands were trembling with anger. She didn’t want to think about what the poor boy had been through. She didn’t want to think about how many times he had been humiliated or showed off, just to pleasure someone’s evil mind.

In this moment, she made a promise to herself. She would fight for this boy and any other Hybrid out there. She would show him all the love and affection she carried in her heart, just to prove him that he is worth living.

But this incident wouldn’t be the last one at this day. When she was done warming up the soup from the night before, she carried the pot over to the table, that was already set. Over the whole time, the boy had watched her carefully, and every time their eyes met, he quickly dropped his gaze to the floor, as if he didn’t want to pull any attention onto him.

“Come one, dinner is ready.” She said, as she carefully sat down at the table. “You need something warm in your stomach.”

The boy nodded quickly, before he slowly walked towards the table. As he was just a few inches away from her, he bent his knees and kneeled down onto the floor next to her, then he folded his hands in his lap and sunk his head down.

“I know it isn’t much, but….What are you doing?” The girl asked confused, as she watched the boy.

Scared that he might had done something wrong, he dared to look up at the girl. To his surprise, she didn’t look mad or angry at all. Her big brown eyes were wide open and her mouth was slightly parted.

“I am sorry.” The boy whispered with his raspy voice, as he closed his eyes. “I am sorry.”

“You – you don’t have to be sorry for anything. You didn’t do anything wrong.” The girl whispered back with a shaking voice.

Seeing the boy so broken and scared in front of her, made her heart break. A big tear slipped out of her left eye, dropping onto her leggings. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, before she looked at the boy. She didn’t want to make him feel more insecure than he already was, so she whipped the tear away with the sleeve of her shirt.

“I am sorry. I am a little bit emotional.” She said, still drying her stained cheeks. “You don’t need to sit on the ground, you know? Please, take a seat on the chair.”

The Hybrid looked up from his kneeling position. He didn’t know whether the small girl was serious about him being allowed to sit on the chair. At the table. With a human.

He gulped. Should he take the risk and actually take a seat? What if she tricked him? What if she would punish him for sitting at the table?

Slowly, he pushed himself up from the ground. The girl was still smiling at him, as he pulled the chair backwards. He sat down and immediately folded his hands together in his lap, like he was supposed to do.

He watched as the girl took the plate that stood in front of him, putting some ladles of soup onto it. He felt his mouth watering as the smell hit his nose. He wanted to take a taste so badly, but he would have to control himself, not wating to make a wrong move.

“You don’t have to wait for anything. You can just eat, if you like.” Once again she showed him this gentle smile, before she lifted her spoon and began to eat her own plate.

Carefully, he lifted his own spoon towards his mouth. The soup tasted amazing and every nerve on his tongue seemed to explode because of all the different and new flavours.

He took another spoon, and another one, and another one, not caring anymore if he was doing something wrong. This was his first warm meal in days, and his first ‘human meal’ he had ever eaten. His hunger took control over him.

“You seem to like it.” The girl chuckle as she watched the boy shoving one spoon after another into his mouth.

The boy’s head shot up, nodding quickly. He shoved the last spoon full of soup into his mouth, leaving back an empty plate one the table. As he realized that he had eaten all the soup, a small shade of red spread over his cheeks, while his ears pressed themself further onto his head. Almost sad, he laid the piece of metal next to the empty plate.

“You can have another plate, if you like.” She said and his head shot up, nodding quickly once again.

They boy shoved soup after soup into his mouth, as if this was his last meal he would ever get to eat. But Hope didn’t mind. She watched him closely.

He was so absorbed in eating his dinner. His cheeks, that were so pale out in the alley, had now a slight shade of red spreading over them. His eyes didn’t show fear anymore, instead they were held a small sparkle every time he saw her refilling his empty plates. And his ear weren’t pressed against his head anymore, but they would sometimes go up and down while he was eating.

All in all, he looked absolute adorable.

“I – I never introduced myself.” The girl suddenly realized. “My name is Hope. I live here in this apartment. You don’t have to tell me your name or what happened to you, if you don’t want to. I just want you to know, that in this house, you are safe. No one is going to hurt you or force you to do anything here, and you are more than welcome to stay as long as you like.”

The boy’s movements slowed down a little bit, but he didn’t turned his attention off of his meal. He kept eating for another 5 minutes of silent, before he laid his spoon down. He folded his hands again in his lap and suddenly mumbled something under his breath.

“I am sorry, but I didn’t understand what you said.” She said softly, as his big brown eyes stared into hers.

“My name…Jungkook.”

[prolouge ||| chapter 2]

#bangtan #bts #bts reactions #jeon jungguk #jimin park #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #taehyung kim #yoongi min #hybrid bts #bts hybrid series #bts hybrid fic #bts hybrid fluff #girl #love #Wolf #leopard #bts poly #ot7 #bear #Fox #bunny #tiger #bts scenarios #bts imagination #bts imagines #bts scenes #poly bts #bts girl

[cristinablackthornkingson]

This Poor Unruly Heart.  A Thomastair fic.

Cross-posted to my AO3. 

***TW/CW**** Alcoholism. Homophobia. Homophobic slurs. (Shortened version of the F slur is used) Emotional abuse. Abusive parent. Abusive relationships. Mention of child loss.

It is a cold Winter’s day in late 1903, when both Alastair Carstairs and Thomas Lightwood, make the most terrifying and nerve wracking decision of their lives. After 3 months of being with each other they have decided to hide no longer, and come out to their parents.

Out of the two of them, Alastair is certainly most terrified, for so long Charles made him believe that he would always have to live in secret, he manipulated and twisted him into believing that everyone would be disgusted and hate him. Alastair knows his mother is a very traditional woman, and throughout his childhood he has heard his father throw around slurs and nasty words about people like Alastair.

However Alastair does not want to hide anymore, like he had to with Charles, he loves Thomas and wants everyone to know that, no matter what. With Elias still being in Idris for another day or so, Alastair will have a chance to speak with him privately, if all goes well with telling his mother.

Cordelia has known that Alastair is gay for a while now, she was the first person he came out to, and has been nothing but loving and supportive toward him, when he told her his plans to come out to their parents, she offered to be there for moral support. Alastair happily agreed, glad to have her to lean on.

So now he has found himself in the drawing room of Cirenworth, sitting on the couch next to Cordelia, across from their mother, who at 7 months pregnant looks more stressed, tired and ill than Alastair has ever seen her. He’s terrified of stressing her out and worrying her further, afraid of hurting her or the baby, but he refuses to have his baby brother or sister born into a world where their big brother is hiding a big part of who he is. If the baby is like Alastair, he wants them to have a good influence, someone to look up to and admire, like he has always secretly admired Anna.

“What trouble have you two gotten into now?” Sona’s tired but amused voice pulls Alastair from his thoughts. He smiles and lets out a breathy laugh, his poor mother having to deal with everything he and Cordelia and their friends got up to recently, hopefully the baby won’t be such a handful when they grow up.

“No mamán, we haven’t done anything, I... I need to speak with you about something, something I... discovered about myself.” Aalstair chooses his words carefully, trying not to fidget or let his nerves overtake him.

“Alright, what is it?” Sona asks, leaning back in her chair and folding her hands over her bump. Alastair gives Cordelia a brief glance and she smiles and slips her hand into his and gives it a reassuring squeeze.

Alastair holds tightly to Cordelia and takes a deep breath. He then looks straight at his mother, and calmly says

“I’m gay, I’m attracted to men, and I’ve been seeing someone, a man. Thomas Lightwood to be exact. We’ve been seeing eachother for a few months now and I wanted to finally tell you mamán, because it is a big part of me and my life.”

Sona leans forward in her chair and takes Alastair’s free hand in hers.

“Are you happy?” She calmly asks. Alastair wordlessly nods, not daring to get his hopes up. “And this Lightwood boy, does he make you happy, does he treat you well?”

“Yes.” Alastair says in a breathy tone. “I... I love him, mamán, he is the best thing that has ever happened to me, I have never been happier than I have been since I began seeing Thomas. He... he makes me feel so loved and important.”

Sona smiles warmly and brushes her son’s dark hair back from his face.

“Then if you are happy, I’m happy.” Alastair feels the tears of relief and joy well up in his eyes as his breath catches in his throat.

“R-really?” He stammers. Sona nods and brushes his tears away.

“Yes Eshgham, all I want for you, Cordelia and this baby, is for you to be happy and healthy. Nothing and no one matters more to me than you 3, and a little thing like the sex of the person you love, is not going to make a difference to how much I love you, Alastair.” Sona’s voice is soft and low, full of love but also firm, so Alastair knows how serious she is.

Alastair lets out a sob of relief and lets his head fall onto his mother’s shoulder, as her arms go around him, her hand running through his hair, while Cordelia rubs his back.

“I love you mamán.” Alastair sniffs. Sona presses a kiss to his forehead.

“I love you too Alastair joon, very much. I do want to meet this Thomas boy of course, to make sure he’s deserving of you, not just anyone is worthy of being loved by my son, you know.” Sona lightly says, as Alastair lifts his head and wipes at his tears. He laughs at the thought of tall, muscular Thomas being lectured by his small, heavily pregnant mother.

“He is James’ cousin, so I think you will like him very much.” Alastair laughs, knowing how much his mother adores James.

“Like who very much?” The sweet and happy moment is suddenly interrupted by a gruff voice from the doorway that makes the blood in Alastair’s veins run cold. He turns his head to see his father standing in the doorway, dressed smartly but with his hair greasy and ratty, months worth of stubble on his jaw, his eyes bloodshot with dark circles underneath them, and a poorly hidden bottle of whisky poking out of his coat pocket.

“Oh Elias, we weren’t expecting you back for another day or so.” Sona says in a somewhat surprised tone, pushing herself to her feet to greet her husband, going in for a kiss to the cheek but recoiling when she smells the alcohol on him.

Elias completely ignores his wife, focusing all of his attention on Alastair.

“Who and what were you talking about? It seems like you were in the middle of a rather serious moment.” He asks in a deadly calm voice.

“Papa not now, Alastair is tired.” Cordelia protests, wanting to do whatever she can to save her brother having to face their father unplanned like this.

“I was not speaking to you Cordelia, I was speaking to your brother. I will ask again, who and what were you talking about? If you told your mother, you need to tell me.” there is now anger and irritation seeping into Elias’ tone.

“I...” Alastair begins, not quiet sure where to go with this. “Um, well I...”

“Have you hit your head or are you honestly as dense as I always knew?” Elias spits out in acidic tone, horrifying everyone in the room. It’s not the first time he’s spoken so cruelly to Alastair, though he’s never done so in front of anyone else before.

“Papa!” Cordelia protests.

“Be quiet Cordelia. You, get on with it.” He growls, glaring at Alastair.

“I’m gay!” Alastair blurts, cringing at how abrupt and sudden it was.

Elias scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“Don’t be ridiculous Alastair, you are far too young to know who you do and do not love, not that it is love, homosexuality is a disease, an illness of the mind.” He tells him in a dismissive tone. Alastair feels as though his heart may break in half. Nobody has ever said something so cruel to him before.

“No it is not, the love I feel for Thomas is just the same as any other type of love. He makes me happy and treats me well, I love him, it is one of the very few things in life I have ever been so certain of. I love him, father.” Alastair’s tone is tight as tears start to well up again, but there is also pride in his tone, and love at the thought of Thomas.

Before Alastair can comprehend anything else, his father is right in front of him, face to face, so close Alastair can smell the stench of alcohol on his breath.

“Elias let him go!” Sona yells, tugging at her husband’s arm, only to have him shake her off.

“No mamán don’t, you may get hurt, you or the baby.” Alastair tells her, holding his chin high and refusing to show his father any fear.

“Now you listen here boy.” Elias hisses. “No son of mine is going to be some disgusting fag, I will not have you taint the good family name of Carstairs. You are not irreplaceable, that child your mother carries could well be a boy, I could very easily replace you with him. And if you wish to have a place under my roof, you will shut your disgusting little mouth and never speak of this filth again!”

“Papa! Don’t speak to him like that, leave him alone!” Cordelia yells, trying to pull her father away, only for him to push her back, almost knocking her over.

Alastair has never been a violent man, despite his nasty attitude when he was younger, he would actually never harm a fly. However this time, Elias his gone too far. Alastair firmly places his hands on his father’s chest and with force, shoves him away so he is not in his face.

Alastair is about to respond, to tell Elias he’s free to replace him with the new baby, but Sona speaks up first.

“That is enough!” Her strong and firm tone rings clear through the room, stopping everyone and everything in their tracks.

“Elias Carstairs if you so much as ever lay a hand on my son again, I swear to the angel you will be sorry. You need to get off of your pedestal, you are not some all high and mighty holier than though member of society, you are a nasty, abusive man who refuses to get help for an addiction that has ruined everything. You ruined Alastair’s childhood with your alcoholism, I am not about to let you ruin the rest of his life with your homophobia.

I have put up with your nasty and abusive ways for the last 18 years, I have dealt with you calling me fat, lazy, useless, ugly, and many, many other things. I am done with it, no more. I took your abuse with the hope you would leave Cordelia and Alastair alone, and they could have nice normal lives. That is not how it works though, I know better now. I deserve better, my children deserve better.

I want a divorce, Elias, and I will be making sure you have no custody or involvement of this baby, as far as I am concerned this child is mine and mine alone, they have no father.”

There is a shocked silence throughout the room, following Sona’s pronouncement. Alastair feels guilty for feeling happy that his mother is leaving his father, and hopeful that he can escape him. He’s not meant to want his parents to split up, being the child of a divorced couple is shameful according to society. But why? Why is it shameful for Sona to escape her abuser, to give her baby a better chance at life and to take Cordelia and Alastair away from a toxic and abusive person?

The first to speak is Elias. He scoffs and sneers at his wife.

“Oh please, you need me Sona, you have nowhere to go and nothing without me.”

“I will go to The Institute, The Herondales will welcome me. I have plenty, Elias, I have savings you know nothing of, I have valuables I can sell should I need to, I have clothes for the baby, nappies are not hard to come by, I have everything I need, I most certainly do not need you.” Sona’s tone is impassive as she steadily holds Elias’ gaze. She then turns to her children, her gaze softening slightly.

“Alastair, Cordelia, you are of course welcome to come with me, wherever I find a home you will have a home, but if you wish to stay with your father then I will not be hurt or upset, and you will still be able to see your little brother or sister when they are born. The choice is yours.” Of course Sona wants her children to come with her, but she knows forcing them to if they do not want to, will not make her any better than Elias.

“I want to go with you mamán.” Cordelia immediately says, the love and respect she has always held for her father now shattered into pieces, never to be repaired.

“Me too, and I can help you with money mamán, now that I am old enough to receive earnings from The Clave.” Alastair says, leaning into his mother, who smiles and cups his cheek.

“Thank you Azizam, but you most certainly do not have to.” She then links her arm through with his and puts the other around Cordelia’s shoulders. “Come along, we can come back for our things later. For now I would like to meet your Thomas, Alastair. I am sure he’s a good boy if he’s related to James, but I need to be sure, as I said, not just anyone is deserving of my son’s heart.”

Alastair smiles brightly, his heart lifting and his pain easing at the thought of introducing his mother to Thomas, and having a peaceful and calm life at The Institute, where he will be free to love Thomas and be himself.

Meanwhile, in the Lightwood London townhouse, Thomas is nervously sitting in front of his parents in the drawing room, preparing to come out to them. He is sure they’ll be loving and accepting, they love and accept Anna, but maybe it will be different with their own child, especially their only son. Perhaps his father expects him to carry on the Lightwood name, what with Christopher having no interest in romance or anything of the sort, and little Alex only being 3.

“What’s going on Tommy? What do you need to talk to us about?” Sophie’s concerned voice pulls Thomas from his thoughts, and he lifts his head to look at his parents, sitting side by side, their hands entwined, both of them looking concerned.

“Uhh...” Thomas begins in an unsure tone. “Well... I’m... I’m gay.” Thomas blurts out, wanting it over and done with, holding his breath as he waits for his parents to react.

Immediately they both visibly relax, Gideon’s shoulders slumping in relief and Sophie placing a hand on her chest and letting out a sigh of relief.

“Oh love is that all?” Sophie asks with a hint of amusement in her tone. Baffled, Thomas nods.

“You gave us a fright Tom, we thought something was dreadfully wrong.” Gideon laughs, relieved beyond words that all is well with Thomas. He could not lose another child, Barbara’s death almost killed him, loosing Thomas or Eugenia would certainly be the end of him.

“We’ve always known that about you my darling, do you think we haven’t noticed you gawping at all the handsome men we pass on the street, or how you just loved hearing about your sisters' courting conquests and always asked for details on the men?” Sophie laughs, remembering 11 year old Thomas sitting with his sisters and listening intently as Barbara recounted her first outing with her first boyfriend.

“It... it doesn’t bother you?” Thomas asks in a hopeful tone. Could it really be this simple and easy? Could he be so lucky?

“Not one bit.” Sophie assures him.

“Just don’t steal Eugenia’s dresses if you want to wear women’s clothes, she loves you but she will not be pleased if you steal her dresses.” Gideon says in a light tone, earning a laugh from Thomas.

“I would not dare get between Genie and her dresses, though I have no desire to wear one myself, they seem rather uncomfortable.” He says.

“You do not know the half of it my love.” Sophie laughs, squeezing Thomas’ hand. “Is there anything else you wish to tell us? Remember, we’ll always love you and support you.”

Thomas bites his lip and takes a few seconds to think, before looking at his parents again.

“Well... actually, I am seeing someone. Alastair Carstairs to be exact.” Thomas nervously admits.

“Oh he is a lovely boy! Good to know your good sense continues through to the romantic aspect of your life.” Sophie grins, shocking Thomas.

“You like him? But mama he was the one who spread those nasty rumors about you a few years ago.” Thomas quietly says. He knows Alastair has changed and grown since then, but does his mother?

“He was a child, a scared child who was going through a lot of trauma, he made a mistake for which he is clearly very sorry. And besides I think it is quiet obvious that he at 16 did not just suddenly decide to spread rumors about strange adults who had nothing to do with him. I would not be surprised in the least if he was repeating what he heard from his father.” Sophie quietly says, trying not to let her anger escape. She is not angry with Alastair, but she is angry with Elias, who has said very unkind things about her before, some to her face and some behind her back.

Before Thomas can reply, there is a rap on the dinning room door and Scarlet- the Lightwood’s maid- steps in.

“Sorry to interrupt M’am, Sirs, there are guests here to see you, Mrs. Carstairs and her two children.” Scarlet quietly says. Thomas’ heart begins to race. Why is Alastair here? Is he alright?

“Oh, please do send them through Scarlet, thank you.” Sophie says, wondering why the Carstairs’ have turned up here. It’s not as if they are very close friends or anything of the sort.

A few seconds later Sona Carstairs steps into the drawing room, followed closely by Cordelia and Alastair.

“I am very sorry to intrude and interrupt, we can leave if we are inconveniencing you.” Sona says in an apologetic tone.

“No no nonsense, you are very welcome. Please, sit. Would you like something to drink or eat? Would you like to put your feet up, Sona?” Sophie kindly asks, remembering how easily her feet swelled up when she was pregnant all 3 times, by the time she was 7 months pregnant with Barbara she couldn’t fit into her shoes anymore and had to buy new ones specifically for pregnancy.

“Thank you, you are very kind but a simple seat will do, I get so tired so easily these days.” Sona says in a breathy tone, as Cordelia helps her sit in a nearby armchair.

Thomas and Alastair, meanwhile, share a delighted look at seeing one another. Thomas grins and quickly strides across the room and slips his hand into Alastair's.

“Mama, papa, this is Alastair, my boyfriend.” He proudly says, grinning at his parents.

Sophie immediately joins them and pulls Alastair into a hug, taking him by complete surprise.

“Don’t break his heart, alright?” Sophie softly says when she pulls back, placing a hand on Alastair’s cheek. Alastair smiles and nods.

“I promise, Mrs. Lightwood.”

Sophie smiles and squeezes his hand before stepping back to let Gideon talk to Alastair.

“Our Thomas is a sweet boy, with so much capacity to love. I’m sure you already know this but it is an honor to be loved by him in anyway. Never forget that, alright?” Alastair nods.

“Of course not Mr. Lightwood.” He assures him. Gideon smiles and holds his hand out for Alastair to shake.

“Good, and if you ever need some fatherly advice or a man to man talk, I am always here.” The offer almost makes Alastair tear up again.

“Thank you Mr. Lightwood, I very much appreciate that.”

“Now you just have to meet Genie, I think she will like you too.” Thomas lightly says, laying his head on Alastair’s shoulder. Alastair chuckles and puts an arm around his boyfriend.

“Well now it is my turn to introduce you to my family. You already know Layla, but you haven’t met my wonderful mother yet. Mamán this is Thomas, my boyfriend.”

With help from Cordelia Sona stands up from her chair and beams brightly at Thomas. She pulls him down for a hug and squeezes tightly.

“It is so lovely to meet the boy who has made my Alastair happy again. Treat him well.”

Over the next few months the Lightwoods and Carstairs grow very close. Gideon helps Sona begin proceedings for her divorce and also helps her make a case against Elias having any custody of the baby. They have plenty of evidence of him being an unfit parent and a danger to the baby, so it only takes a matter of weeks for it be agreed upon by The Silent Brothers and The Clave that Elias has no legal rights to the baby and will not be allowed around them at all.

Sophie helps Sona through the rest of her difficult pregnancy, having had a hard pregnancy herself, with Thomas.

Thomas and Alastair grow closer and fall even more in love, and Cordelia finds a new friend in Eugenia.

2 months later on a rainy February day, Cordelia, Alastair, Thomas and Eugenia are all nervously waiting outside the Institute infirmary, waiting for word on Sona who went into labor in the early hours of the morning. Brother Zachariah came right away, and has been doing a wonderful job of helping Sona through her labor while also keeping everyone else updated.

8 hours after Sona went into labor, the silence of the infirmary waiting room is interrupted by the squeaking of the infirmary door opening.

The 4 teenagers turn to look at the doorway, where Brother Zachariah now stands, his hood drawn back and his hands folded neatly in front of him.

“Uncle Jem.” Cordelia leans forward, eager to hear what he has to say. “Is mama alright, and the baby?”

Yes everything is absolutely fine Cordelia. In fact, you have a healthy baby brother, congratulations.

Cordelia gasps and shrieks in delight, turning to hug Alastair tightly.

“A boy! It’s a boy Al, we have a baby brother!” She gleefully exclaims. Alastair laughs in delight and holds his sister tight, picking her up and spinning her around twice, unable to contain his utter glee and delight. His mother is alright, his baby brother is alright, everything is alright.

“Two against one! You are done for, Layla!” Alastair teases, setting his sister down and affectionately tugging at a lock of her hair. Cordelia laughs and playfully swats him on the arm.

“Not a chance! I’m going to go hold him first!” she quickly turns on her heel and hurries into the infirmary after Jem.

“I always wanted a little brother, I’m quiet envious!” Thomas lightly says, slipping an arm around Alastair’s waist. “I am very happy for you.” Alastair beams at his boyfriend and kisses him.

“I love you.”

"I love you too."

#thomas lightwood #alastair carstairs #Cordelia Carstairs #sona carstairs #elias carstairs #gideon lightwood #sophie collins #sophie lightwood #anna lightwood #james herondale #will herondale #william herondale #tessa gray #tessa herondale #christopher lightwood #alexander lightwood #the silent brothers #Brother Zachariah #jem carstairs #james carstairs #charles fairchild #eugenia lightwood #barbara lightwood #thomas x alastair #alastair x charles #SophiexGideon #the infernal devices #the last hours #the shadowhunter chronicles #tsc

[lovelydayintheneighborhood]

Hanahaki Disease (Jason Todd x FemReader)

Summary: The Hanahaki Disease is an illness born from one-sided love, where the patient throws up and coughs of flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. The infection can be removed through surgery, but the feelings disappear along with the petals. It can be cured without side effects only when the feelings are returned.

Warnings: none

Rating: G

A/N: “you made flowers grow in my lungs, and although they are beautiful I can’t breathe.”

This is the first work I ever posted, so I think it’s fitting that it’s the first one to bring back!

It started two years ago, after patrol one night. You were the newest addition to Batman’s unending stock of adopted orphans, and had taken up the mantle of Oracle after Babs went back to being Batgirl. You were listening to comm’s when you overheard voices in the cave. That was odd; it was too early for anyone to be back yet.

As the voices got louder, you recognized them as Bruce and Jason’s. It wasn’t uncommon for them to argue, so you just continued with what you were doing until they reached the cave.

“You’re staying here tonight,” Bruce said. His face was blank but his voice had a hint of the earlier anger behind it.

“The hell I am!” Jason was not so held back. He let his outrage show on his face and in his voice, and reached to put his helmet back on his head.

Instead of fighting back, Bruce let out an exasperated sigh and turned to face the computer screens you were sitting in front of.

“It’s too dangerous.” He entered a code into the keyboard before either you or Jason could move, and 2 inches thick of unbreakable glass sprung up that kept Jason from moving more than 10 feet in any direction. Your jaw dropped. You were astonished that Bruce would go that far, even as stubborn as he is. He turned to you.

“Under no circumstances are you to let him out until I get back.” He sounded like a dad lecturing his children. You guessed that in a sense, he kind of was, but you and Jason couldn’t be further from siblings.

With that, he left a seething Jason in your hands.

“I do dangerous things all the damn time! That’s the way it’s been since the very beginning!” He yelled after the Dark Knight. You felt a twinge of guilt, even though you didn’t show it.

You went back to doing what you were supposed to and ignored his presence. Eventually, he spoke up.

“Let me out.” You turned your head to face him and raised an eyebrow. His arms were crossed and his shoulders were set.

“I will do no such thing,” you countered. “If Batman thinks it’s too dangerous for you to be out there, then he’s probably right.” You weren’t entirely sure why Bruce was keeping him captive, but you didn’t want him hurt. Or worse, dead again.

“I can handle myself. Neither of you get to decide what I’m going to do!” He threw his hands down to his sides in frustration and started pacing the 10 foot radius.

You sighed, and turned around in your wheelie chair. It sucked being in the cave all night while everyone else was a part of the action; you knew.

“I know you think he doesn’t trust you, but he just doesn’t want your temper to get the best of you. He’s afraid you’ll lash out at the wrong moment and get yourself killed.” He narrowed his eyes at her.

“That’s not his place. Or yours. And since when can’t I keep my head, Princess?” Your nostrils flared at the nickname. You whipped around in your chair.

“Since you go after the Joker every damn time he shows up. Since you kill every thug you come across. You’re so damn selfish that you can’t put your own vengeance behind the lives at risk!” You said frustratedly. You hadn’t meant to say that, it had come out unexpectedly.

He was quiet for a moment.

“You really think that, y/n?” He finally said, and looked up. “You think that I do it for the vengeance? For myself?” His stare was intense, and you felt the urge to look away but forced yourself not to.

“I do it for the kids who have to stay on the streets with those bastards at night; for the women who look over their shoulders constantly for rapists; for all the people who have been terrorized by these assholes and can’t sleep at night, wondering when they’ll be back. And no, I don’t kill all of them. I made a promise, and I intend to keep it. But the big guns, the ones like Joker who’ve killed hundreds, probably thousands and aren’t about to stop? Hell yeah.” He continued his pacing after that.

That’s when it became hard to breathe.

You were stunned speechless. Jason Todd wasn’t vulnerable ever, and now you were ashamed you had said anything in the first place.

The comm’s buzzed to life a moment later, and you could practically feel him stop and stare at the back of your head.

“I need backup on Crime Alley. The Joker hired the thugs that were at the shooting as a distraction. He’s planted a bomb somewhere in Gotham and the others are working to find it.”

Everyone else was busy or out of town on other business. You bit your lip and braced yourself for what you were going to do. You could probably get one of the others to go, but he was right; he should be allowed to decide what to do for himself. And you’d forced him to open up, so you felt like you owed him somehow.

“Red Hood will be at your location in approximately 7 minutes.”

“Roger that.”

You lowered the glass shield and turned around in your chair to face his surprised figure.

“Don’t make me regret this, Todd.”

He winked at you with a smirk on his face. “Later, Princess.”

After everyone got back from patrol that night and Bruce had finished lecturing you, you were alone in your room and started having bad chest pains. You blew it off, until you started coughing and blood came up. It could’ve been nearly anything else, but something in your mind told you it wasn’t.

No no no, you thought. Not this. Tears welled up in your eyes, and soon enough petals were coming up with the blood.

————————

Now, it was two years later and the disease had just gotten worse and worse. You made sure to leave no sign of the blood or flowers, and even moved out of Wayne Manor when the episodes became more frequent. You didn’t know how long people usually took, but you didn’t think it would be much longer.

You couldn’t complain too much though, because you and Jason had gotten closer. That was a bonus. By now you considered him your best friend, even if he didn’t in return.

You hadn’t told anybody, and as observant as your family of detectives were, you were sure none of them knew. You were trained by the best, after all.

It was the night before Christmas, and you came over to help Alfred bake cookies. The rest of the family would be arriving soon as well. You felt the familiar rise of pain in your chest, and excused yourself to the bathroom.

The doorbell rang, and you jumped, thinking it was someone near the bathroom at first. You quickly attempted to clean up the blood and shoved the petals in a vase that was on a small table in the bathroom.

You breathed in quickly, the whoosh of air weaving through the flowers in your lungs audible, and then you went back to meet the newest guests.

Cass and Steph had apparently finished their last-minute shopping spree, judging by the bags littering the kitchen table, and Dick was attempting to steal bits of cookie dough behind Alfred’s back, albeit unsuccessfully. When you tried to take a look into one of the many bags, Steph swatted your hand away.

“Hey, no peeking!” She exclaimed. You rolled your eyes.

“It’s Christmas Eve,” you said with a smile playing at your lips. You enjoyed how even though the entire family had all probably tried to kill each other at some point, they really loved each other and valued the things that mattered. You only wished that the one who mattered the most to you valued you just as much.

“Ahem.” Speak of the devil. Jason stood in the doorway, his face oddly blank for Christmas Eve. Even though he was a bit of a grinch, he didn’t scowl quite as much during the holidays.

“Y/n, can we talk?” You raised an eyebrow and followed him out into the hall. He kept going though, and you were even more confused but followed him anyways.

He turned the corner into the bathroom, pulled you in quickly and shut the door.

“Jason, wh-“

“What is this?” His stare was intense, and he was pointing at a flower-filled vase. Your heart dropped. You did your best to keep your face neutral, and looked him in the eye.

“I don’t know wha-“

“Don’t lie to me.” He cut you off again. “The petals in this vase are covered in blood.”

“That could’ve been anyone,” You countered, but you both knew it was absolute bullshit. His brow furrowed, and he was quiet for a moment. You could see the worry in his eyes, and God, did you feel guilty when he looked at you like that.

“Y/n,” he spoke in a soft tone with pleading eyes.

“I’m- I’m sorry, I just can’t-“ suddenly you broke down coughing with tears trailing from your eyes, and grabbed the sink to brace yourself. Your head started spinning, and the sounds around you became muted, but you thought you heard Jason calling your name.

“Y/n!” His hands searched your body, looking for the small words that would tell him who had done this to you, and maybe even save your life.

“Y/n- talk to me dammit!” Seconds later, you felt his hands stop roaming and his fingers tilted your face to his. You knew he was speaking but you couldn’t register his words, they weaved in and out of focus.

“I love you, I love you so much, so much y/n,” you heard him say loudly. “Please don’t go, please...”

Suddenly everything stopped. The world stopped spinning, your ears stopped ringing, you stopped hacking up blood and petals.

You could finally breathe again.

Jason’s eyes were wide and he was staring at you in disbelief. Out of nowhere his arms were wrapped tightly around you.

“Y/n..” he croaked, his voice hoarse. “I thought..” You looked up at him, and your eyes widened as your jaw dropped. Tears were streaming down his face.

“Jason.. I’m so sorry,” you said and leaned into his touch. Your brow furrowed as you went over the events of the past few minutes. How in the hell..?

“Jay?”

“Hm?” His eyes opened to look at you, though you don’t know when he closed them. His breathing had thankfully evened out.

“What.. what did you say? I wasn’t- I’m not sure if I heard you correctly.” You searched his face for signs of something, anything. He took you by surprise by cupping your cheek and pulling you closer, so that you could feel his breath on your lips.

“I love you, y/n.” Then he leaned forward and pulled you into a slow, lingering kiss. You pulled back with tears in your eyes, and rested your forehead against his with a goofy smile on your face. You finally had the man that you had loved for so very long.

“I love you too, Jason.” With that, you pulled him back into a kiss.

#Jason Todd #Jason Todd x Reader #batfamily #batfam #Bruce Wayne #Alfred Pennyworth #Batman #Dick Grayson #Nightwing #Tim Drake #Red Robin #Damian Wayne #Robin #Stephanie Brown #Batgirl #Barbara Gordon #Oracle #Red Hood #Red Hood x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #hanwrites

[vvakarians]

World lore and Arc 1 Character lore from Melrose: City of Monsters! This world is a story that myself and my boyfriend @thecoffeerain

Maxime and Victor belong to my boyfriend! 

Charlie’s Twitter | Charlie’s P a t r e o n

Info under the cut!

ABOUT MELROSE: CITY OF MONSTERS

Melrose is a city just south of New York City in America, it’s a small town that is unassuming at first but is filled with dark secrets. Vampires, witches, werewolves, and humans exist together, though in a vaguely dysfunctional way. The government broke the news about vampires and werewolves only five years previous, though they’ve lived in society for far longer than that. At this point people are getting used to them living among the human population, but knowledge about magic is still kept under wraps. Vampirism, lycanthropy, and magic comes from a disease that is both highly contagious and genetic. Once you have it, you have it for life, eternal or not.This information is primarily for the first arc. MC information will be updated with each arc.

MAIN CHARACTERS OF MELROSE: CITY OF MONSTERS

Father Charles ‘Charlie’ Larousse-Robineau

Pronouns: They/them

Occupation: ‘Priest’

Bloodline: Vampire, former Human, Crowley Lineage

Maker: Belladonna Crowley, the Duchess

Origin: New Orleans, Louisiana, USA

Love Interest: Victor Talbot

Father Robineau is a charming and well traveled individual, having been born in the 1860’s to a fur merchant and his musician wife. A tragedy struck the family in the early 1880’s when Charlie’s father snapped after a fight between them, and he supposedly killed both Charlie’s younger brother Jean Marie, as well as their mother, brutally with an axe. Charlie barely got out alive, killing their father in self defense. After getting medical attention they fled to England, hoping that their extended family would take them in.When they didn’t, Charlie settled in Whitechapel, hired by a brothel to be a charlatan, medic, and overall fluffer for the girls there. It is there where they fell in love with a woman named Lilith Brown, or Lily, as she preferred. They were best friends and messed around with each other, but Lily turned their courtship down. Sad but understanding, Charlie continued to work as a charlatan, only to watch as their friends would begin dying one by one. People suspected Jack the Ripper and would lend no help to the people affected. As we know, the killer was not caught, and unfortunately one of the last to be taken would be Lily.Whether it was Jack, or a copycat, Charlie was determined to figure out who it was. Driven near mad by grief, Charlie called out to anything that would listen while attending the autopsy of Lily. Who would show up would not be their savior, but their Devil. A woman calling herself the Duchess. She promised Charlie power to find the person who harmed their friends in exchange for a favor at a later date. Charlie was then sacrificed on an altar far below Whitechapel, but to what goddess or entity, they did not know. All they know is that they were opened up much like the corpses on the autopsy tables in the morgue, and then drained of all blood, turned into a bloodthirsty monster. Then abandoned on the streets. After becoming feral and accidentally slaying two people, Charlie turned themself in, though they were quickly turned over to the Vampiric Council of the United Kingdom. This is where they were rehabilitated by Delilah Ainsworth and her husband Aegis Stone, then allowed to return to the USA. Though it was still hard to find a food source and the only thing they could think of to get a large group, but not have to worry about too many people finding out -- was build a congregation. This of course backfired and they made more of a cult than anything, and one of their cult members developed an unhealthy obsession with them. His name was Cedric.When Charlie saw what they had created and tried to disband the cult, Cedric intervened, but a few weeks afterwards Charlie would poison his blood supply with silver, enabling them to flee. After that they never saw Cedric again and would go on to serve in World War II before settling down in Melrose in the 1940’s, creating the cathedral they now work in, St Januarius’, but making sure that a cult never happens again. Thankfully with blood bags it’s become less of an issue.Their life changes though when a man named Victor walks into their church…

Victor Talbot

Pronouns: He/him or they/them

Occupation: Sex worker / Artist / Cat Wrangler

Origin: Sussex, England, United Kingdom

Love Interest: Charlie Robineau

Victor is the only child born to a surgeon and an art lecturer. He spent quite a bit of time with his mother who taught him all about Hinduism and the ways of their culture. As a child and throughout his school life he was bullied for being larger than his peers; this made him quite shy and destroyed his self esteem. He did find a love of dance though when he would watch Bollywood films with his mother at home, and then at school he got involved in modern dance. Though it was in secret, as he did not want his peers to bully him further. As he kept at it, Victor lost weight and began eating better, becoming how he’s seen today. Which of course gained him attention and popularity where there was none before. 

While studying medicine, as his father had proclaimed he would as all of the men of his family had, Victor found that he could help people by giving them the medicine they needed but couldn’t necessarily  afford. He then began to sell narcotics to addicts to cover the cost of the extravagant lifestyle forced upon him by his peers. A tragic accident occurred when the man he was seeing stole from his stash and OD’d, then was brought to the hospital where Victor was doing his residency. Victor did try to save his life but the man ended up dying. Of course he came clean about it to his dad, who was the chief of surgery at the hospital, but Victor’s dad told him to keep quiet about it lest he lose his job. Unfortunately, the damage was done and Victor became haunted by the loss of life at what he believed was his hands. Unable to cope with what he had caused, he began to take the pills he used to sell and became hooked. After a severe mental break having spent too many hours on shift he was suspended and dismissed from the program, now having to deal with being haunted continuously with what he’d done.

He would then fall into a drug spiral where he stole his father’s script pad, implicating him in his stealing, which got his father suspended. During this time he began taking street drugs and getting involved in the party scene, all to whisk him away from the trauma he suffered. This cycle only stopped when a tragedy happened for a second time. Another man he had been seeing died while they were together, and he woke up to his lifeless body in the bed. It’s here that Victor blacks out and does not have much memory of, only remembers waking up in the hospital and being convinced to go to rehab. 

After being released and having his parents hovering over him every second of the day, he relapsed, then was cut off by his mother and father. He would then sell all of his belongings, or what he could, and bought a ticket to America where he would be picked up by the infamous Red in Melrose, New York. It would be here that he’d meet Father Robineau at the St. Januarius Cathedral…

Hazel Coldbrook

Pronouns: They/he

Occupation: Personal Assistant + Receptionist

Origin: Manhattan, New York City, New York, USA

Love Interest: Maxime St. Martin

Hazel was adopted at the age of six by a Jewish doctor and a First Nations professor of linguistics at one of the universities in New York. He was put into the system after his father lost custody following a terrible car accident that killed his mother. He did have two younger siblings that were sent to different homes, he never saw them afterward. Hazel did have an older adopted sister named Morgan, who was often cruel and rude to him. She got him into a lot of trouble and often got him bullied by other children at school, more than he already was. It didn’t help that he was starting to have issues seeing and hearing things, on top of paranoid delusions. 

His parents did their best to set him up as much as they could, and he did get better eventually. Therapy and medication got him on the right track, though his night terrors do plague him still. Once he went away to college, Morgan was cut off from the family around the same time after she was arrested for violent breaking and entering. They didn’t see her for a while after that, though at one point she did make a brief appearance. Morgan chased after him and one night broke into his dorms while he was with his girlfriend, Willow. She was killed after trying to wrestle Morgan away from him, and he was bitten by Morgan. Thankfully, he survived, but he did find out that his sister had been turned into a vampire. 

Charlie found him in the dorm shortly after the attack, having gone hunting during a blood bag shortage. They took him to the hospital and then offered him a job as a PA at their church, helping transfer all of his college credit over to the local community college where he is now studying psychology and theology. During his time in Melrose though, he begins attending drag performances at a local club and comes upon a gorgeous drag queen...

Maxime St. Martin / Enzée Bytten

Pronouns: He/him (She/her, in drag)

Occupation: Club Owner/Drag Queen

Bloodline: Vampire, former human, Seraphim Lineage

Maker: Gabriel

Origin: Saint Martin d'Oydes en Ariège Pyrénées, France

Love Interest: Hazel Coldbrook

Maxime was born in a small, self contained village where he did not leave much until his late teens. Unfortunately, the reason why he left was not a matter of simply being sick of the small village life, it was due to a much darker purpose. A man named Gabriel had come to the village and infected the residents with vampirism, causing them all to turn on each other night by night. This was but one prong in a grand scheme to build an entire army of vampiric soldiers indoctrinated with Gabriel’s radical beliefs about humans and vampires. Maxime --being young and impressionable-- followed his Maker in his footsteps, having a sort of love for him that one could only have for a Maker.

As the decades went on, Maxime would turn people he met and attempt to sway them to their side of things, but became infatuated with human culture as he went. Eventually he saw the error of his Maker’s ways and began planning a rebellion against Gabriel. Maxime even managed to convince a human soldier who he had picked up during World War II, who he would then turn after he would get severely injured. You could say the plan went off without a hitch, though there were many casualties and a lot of fighting.

Eventually he would move on to the states where he steadily sunk into his trauma, though he would find a club to make his own in Melrose. There he would build a reputation of being cold and calculating, but as Enzée he is warm and lively -- or rather she is.Le Syndicat is where Maxime would meet Hazel, who had just come to the bar for a drink…

VAMPIRES:

Vampirism, lycanthropy, and magic all come from a single source. Different strains of diseases that all come from one person, who thus far has been lost to history, as well as the war that led to the werewolves and vampires becoming tense with each other. Vampires come from the strain that needs blood to survive, but also an undead host. It attacks all systems aside from the nervous, and shuts most of them down. They do process blood but not in the same way that a human would food. Their waste system is completely cut off and their stomach has become oddly misshapen, different. It ‘digests’ the blood and filters it back through the body so that the vampire can use it as a source of energy when healing, keeping them young, and making sure their body doesn’t rot from the inside out due to their functions being cut off. The disease is parasitic in nature this way, but eventually becomes symbiotic. Vampires need blood to survive and can be affected by blood born illnesses, though never die. At least usually. In the cases of aggressive cancers and autoimmune disorders, it can kill the host, but it’s very rare. Those with vampirism can only be turned after being fed on, drained, and then made to drink the blood of a disease carrying host; be born as a Stillborn, or be born as a fully fledged vampire. They are ever immortal, cannot eat human food unless it has blood in it and even then they cannot eat a lot of it, though this is not the same for liquids, and every bloodline has a ‘feral’ type that is different from another. Reproduction is a bit of an unknown for vampires. There are creatures called Stillborns that are the successful offspring of a vampire and a human, or are the human offspring of a vampire when the disease becomes recessive. Almost always the disease is terminal and it kills them, then resurrects them from the ages 19-31. Scientists think this could be the peak age range for humans healthwise, which is why the disease stops their aging as well at that time. Otherwise, vampires can have offspring with other vampires, however it is unsure how. It could be that their reproduction systems come alive when with a compatible partner, but no one knows for sure and it isn’t full proof. Even so most vampires, just as they will do with humans to prevent possible Stillborns, will wear protection when with other vampires. It is whispered that there are ways a vampire and a werewolf could also have child, but seeing as one is dead and one is alive, that is skepticism at best. Vampires who are born from other vampires age very slowly until that 19-31 age range and then suddenly stop. They can of course be created when one is fed off of or drained, then made to drink the blood of a host. These vampires are called ‘newborns’ and are often very attached to their makers. They acquire a Bond, which is crucial for a newborn, though they don’t always get that treatment from their Maker. A newborn without a Bond will have issues trying to feed and they often become feral. If they do form a Bond, they will feel drawn to their Maker for decades if not for life. Some may need extra care and attention, even touch when they’ve been turned. The stage when a newborn becomes a stable vampire varies from bloodline to bloodline. Becoming feral is usually something a vampire wants to avoid. It happens when they are too hungry and have been starved of blood for too long, or sometimes when they experience very strong emotions. The form of being feral varies from bloodline to bloodline, just as it would for werewolves. When being fed off of a human will feel the pain of the bite but then a euphoria will settle, which is dangerous at times. A pheromone is also given off that makes them smell and taste amazing to a human (such as saliva and skin, this is not a reference to cannibalism lmao), which was once so they could draw in prey to better feed off of. In Melrose, vampires and werewolves live together in a tenuous harmony. Again no one really can point out why they have tension but still that thought has lived on in more traditional, and older people of both kinds. They try not to encroach on the others territory and spaces, and their councils work together along with the human government when needed. Vampires answer to the Vampiric Council of their country when a crime has been committed or they need other governmental help. Currently the hub for vampiric activity is in two parts. St. Januarius’ Cathedral, and Le Syndicat, respectively a church and a nightclub. The church is a safehouse for all werewolves, vampires, and humans , and the nightclub is well...a nightclub. One is ran by a charming but seedy priest, and the other is ran by a cold, but sweet once you worm your way into his heart.

WEREWOLVES:

Werewolves, like stated above in the vampire section, come from one large strain. There was a war a very long time ago but no one really knows that anymore, and there’s just some strain among the more traditional folks. Werewolves can be born with lycanthropy, or they can be turned; though werewolves can have offspring with humans at the normal rate unlike vampires. Their children tend to be hyperactive and need a lot of attention to keep their instincts under control, much like newborn vampires. They burn off a ton of calories and usually need to be on a high calorie diet because of this as well as high in iron, which becomes worse during a full moon. Changing in and out of their forms, whether it be bipedal or all fours, tends to burn off a lot of calories and consume a lot of energy. Werewolf kids need that extra supervision so that they don’t hurt themselves during the night, but they will learn to cope as they get older. Pain management those nights is a must, a lot of werewolves keep a well stocked medicine cabinet. Being turned into a werewolf is not as a rampant problem as people used to think, it never was. Usually they can only turn someone during a full moon when their saliva has more kick to it and is full of the lycanthropic strain, which their body has on a cycle much like a period. However, they can turn someone on the odd night but it’s usually just before or just after a full moon, and they will not get the chance to turn someone during a full moon that time around. Werewolves also often experience PMS like symptoms close to the full moon, no matter what gender they are.

Their hair grows very thick and fast, usually covering their entire body in a peach fuzz and growing more prominent on their arms, chest, pubic area, back, head, etc. Sometimes the back of their hands and feet as well. They see exceptionally well in the dark, usually have the speed and strength to rival vampires, and are always on the taller side. Though there are some exceptions, especially for human born wolves, or those turned into one. Aging is slow for them, some can live up to three hundred years before they pass on. Werewolf society usually comes in the form of a pack, designating an Alpha and Betas (usually two to three) in their own way and coming to them for advice as well as governing matters. They have their own council and converse with the human or vampire government if needed. How they govern is really up to them however, just as it is for vampires. In Melrose there are smaller packs everywhere, and a bigger one out on the edge of town. This pack has recently elected (through a physical challenge of the previous Alpha) Dante Kāne as their Alpha, and he has two Betas : Serj Allgood, and Ty Hacon. The previous Alpha, a man named Gunner, is a very traditional man who put into practice not so great things (drug running, not so safe sex work, etc) but Dante is slowly trying to ease the pack into doing better things.

MAGIC:

Magic is an inherited trait, usually through a distant tie to the strain that gave the world vampirism and lycanthropy, or it is learned. Witches can be born to any human, werewolf, or vampire; though most humans still believe magic to not be real. It can also come in the form of anything, blood magic, rituals, soothsaying, fortune telling, necromancy, green magic, etc. It all exists all at once. Some believe in gods, some don’t, it’s all up to the person.

#vampire #werewolf #fantasy #melrose

[professorspork]

ANOTHER BUSY DAY IN THE ANDROMEDA GALAXY

I started the day running errands on Havarl, culminating with finishing off Jaal’s loyalty mission! I took Vetra with us thinking ‘hey, if anyone knows sibling dynamics...’ but then she factored into all of that absolutely 0%, lol @ me. but no matter! Jaal was super flirty as we made our way to the Forge, and it was adorable when he was like “HERE MEET MY FRIEND SO YOU CAN SEE AKKSUL IS WRONG” and bodily dragged me toward his siblings. their fight was absorbing and intense; I LEGIT GASPED WHEN HIS SISTER SHOT HIS BROTHER. LIKE!! the whole confrontation with Akksul felt super weighty and I really enjoyed it-- keeping my trigger discipline to not shoot that dude was really hard! there was a split second there where his bolt was headed toward Jaal’s face and I was like “if I kill off Jaal in his loyalty mission I’ll be so upset” but nope it all worked out, he has a bitchin cheek scar now, and the respect of his people, and I got a forehead touch so y’know. i melted. GOSH. then I died laughing at Akksul’s not-apology email.

now Jaal wants me to meet his mom(s) but Helen said that’ll lock in the romance, so I’ll probably wait just a little longer so I can uh keep having FWB sex with Peebee and ?maybe??? flirt with Vetra at some point? altho I teasingly called her MOM last time we were in Kadara Port so maybe not. (Jaal still hates it there, he’s so grumpy and it’s cute, but I digress)

this one got even longer than usual so doing a cut

one thing that I really like, that the game navigates in interesting ways, is that to the angara, we’re all just “Milky Way people.” like. so much of the original trilogy is about navigating the differences between all these aliens, and like, some of that is here too, esp with the krogan, but it’s actually really neat the way we’ve flattened out. and even with the krogan it’s still night and day-- like. comparing what Tuchanka is like in ME2 when Wrex is still solidifying his status as warlord is miles away from what it’s like for me to wander around New Tuchanka or, especially, just run into random krogan out and about (like the nice water scouts. WHY COULDN’T I JUST GIVE THEM THE WATER? but I’m getting ahead of myself). I know some of it has the Watsonian explanation of, like, only forward-thinking, open-minded krogan would be interested in the Initiative in the first place, and some of it is the Doylist explanation of ‘well people really liked that Charr/Ereba romance so let’s have more sweetie pie krogan’ but like. overall. it’s interesting, and I’m sure there’s more angles I haven’t considered.

I traced more of those comm buoys for Addison and learned that the doctor she’s obsessed with ran away to get pregnant! I definitely read that whole situation as Addison being in love with this lady and tbh it still doesn’t refute it? but I won’t get any more progress until I make a new outpost. the whole idea of ‘the first human baby born in Heleus’ thing is really cool, though, and I’m invested.

then I went to Elaaden! I feel some kind of way about Lexi diagnosing all of these scavengers with Brain Disease, but I can’t put my finger on it exactly-- other than, I guess, my general discomfort with pathologizing criminality. I was glad she said we couldn’t vaccinate people without their consent, but the whole thing smacks as very... self-conscious on the part of the game creators? like they thought people would say “hey it’s a huge plot hole that the Initiative screened every person before putting them on the arks and yet so many of them do crimes, explain that to me” and they were like “oh yeah shit that makes no sense, it’s not like people faced with the existential crisis of being in a brand new place 600 years away from everything they’ve ever known with no way back and not enough resources and multiple things wanting to kill them might just make desperate, risky choices, that’s not good enough, obviously we need to explain it with BRAIN DISEASE.” come on.

I made it to New Tuchanka, where the postings on the terminals are literally my favorite part of this whole game. THE ONE KROGAN WHO WANTS GINGERBREAD. THE ONE WHO DOESN’T WANT TO FOCUS ON CONS AND SUGGESTS A “PRO-VERSATION.” THE ONE ABOUT THE “PROBLETUNITY” OF MATING SUGGESTING WATCHING KRANTT HARDLY WAIT. THE ONE WHO INVENTED BLOOD RAGE FOR GUN TURRETS. but also, the best one, my favorite one of all: KRANTT THE RAGENING LARP. there is nothing I would not give to play Krantt: The Ragening.

I sort of tripped and fell and decided to finish Drack’s loyalty mission even though I intended to do more Elaaden things first, and that was a blast. Vorn is so presh! and also Drack is my dad so there’s that. I loved that Vorn helped save the day with a poison vegetable, and I love that Kesh pretended not to like the flower he got her. it was like-- okay. real talk, I just spent like 20 minutes trying to find proof that there is, in fact, a scene in parks and rec where someone gives April a friendship bracelet and she pretended to hate it until they threatened to take it back and could not find it ANYWHERE and felt so gaslit until I realized that that scene was not about April at all but Louise Belcher so. GOOD JOB ME. anyway. it was like that. kesh pretending her comm was broken when Tann tried to talk to her is the oldest joke in the book but I laughed anyway. 

and then I TOOK SPENDER DOWN FOR GOOD. I’m a little miffed that neither Kesh nor Tann got to be in on that discussion; like, I recognize he was Addison’s underling but given all the bullshit he pulled with the krogan I especially felt Kesh deserved to be there? at one point there was a dialogue tree where I could either say it was Addison’s fault or Spender’s fault, and I picked the latter because I think they both such but Spender sucks worse, but in hindsight I wish I’d stuck it to Addison more because my dialogue was way too nice. when faced with the choice of jailing or exiling Spender, I picked jail despite my desire to defund Nexus Militia because I was scared if I exiled him he’d just come back as a worse enemy because of all his off-station contacts. when reviewing the choice in the codex, though, it narrativized my choice by saying I imprisoned him knowing he “would never survive life on the run from his former associates.” that wasn’t my assumption at all! quite the opposite! I jailed him thinking he’d start a coup from without if I didn’t, and it’s really interesting to me that the game isn’t framing that as a concern Ryder would have reasonably had. anyway, now Brecka has his job, which is good because Brecka is the best.

before leaving I unlocked my last memory, and SURPRISE MY MOM IS ALIVE. WELL. FOR A GIVEN DEFINITION OF ALIVE. i don’t know why I’m surprised; of course my dad sucked that much. but also, the fact that all of that got nestled in with the reaper ‘reveal’ (if you can call it that) felt... very strange? like. this is such a personal, emotional thing for Ryder. obviously for the player harkening back to the trilogy is supposed to be a gut wrench, and objectively, yes, I can see how the knowledge that they might have narrowly escaped certain death is a big deal, but like. the reapers aren’t HERE. they aren’t relevant. my MOM, on the other hand, is and is, apparently! it’s occurring to me I didn’t even try to find her mis-labeled pod, I was so turned around by all the benefactor stuff after the fact. anyway.

swung by Kadara to get drinks with Drack and had an epic bar fight, and then Lexi p much lectured us both abt it because Drack is like 90% spit and duct tape at this point. him talking about raising Kesh giving him a new lease on life was VERY sweet, tho, and his line about how parents aren’t the finish line, they’re the starting line was very good.

went back to Elaaden, which Jaal called “a big planet” while discussing hunting someone down and AU CONTRAIRE, JAAL, IT IS A MOON. wish I’d had Drack with me when I found Annea’s water because I bet he would have had better dialogue than Cora, but alas. felt very weird giving control of the reservoir to the Nexus, but like. Annea being like “you can’t, this is my emotional support monopoly on a vital natural resource” just wasn’t gonna fly with how I’m playing Ryder. I was gratified to hear the Nexus guy at Paradise say we were giving the water to everyone, including krogan and scavengers, because I 100% did not trust Tann not to overrule him with some shitty call.

then I went to the Remnant ship to stop Morda from making a bomb out of the drive core, and it was all going swimmingly until I traced the signal to that cave inside the flophouse and suddenly my triangle button stopped working, making me unable to activate the console. YIKES. a quick google of the issue tells me that this mission is buggy for a lot of people and reloading from an earlier save tends to help, but I tried that and the issue persisted so I gave up for the evening. hopefully a fresh start tomorrow and time for the ps4 to cool off is all that is required. 

#leah plays mass effect andromeda

[meetdheeraj]

Rajeev Dixit, from whom Ramdev borrowed his swadeshi rhetoric and narrative - Ramdev has openly accepted this - was born in UP. He was pursuing BTech from Allahabad when the Bhopal Gas Tragedy occurred. He began thinking and asking questions about what had brought Union Carbide to India in the first place and about the economic compulsions that forced Indians to allow multinationals to set up their plants in the country. These questions led him to Dharampal, a Gandhian thinker, who shaped his economic worldview.

Seven years later, in January 1992, Dixit founded the Azadi Bachao Andolan. The Khadi clad Dixit took to touring the country, giving thousands of lectures and speeches in elegant Hindi. Over the next several years he stitched together and refined his argument against multinational companies and claimed that liberalization and globalization were the modern faces of colonialism. His organization recorded his speeches, and sold cassettes and later CDs of them wherever they could.

With 10 crore supporters and a presence in 1500 tehsils across the country, the Azadi Bachao Andolan became an object of envy for anyone looking to build an army of followers.

Ramdev certainly looked at him as a valuable ally.

Sometime in February 2004, according to K N Govindacharya, then a RSS ideologue, 'I ran into Ramdev somewhere in Bhopal and he told me he was looking for Rajeev Dixit. So I made a call.' Shortly after that, Ramdev met Dixit in Nasik. Ramdev agreed to sell Dixit's CDs at his Yoga camps for a commission.

That was difficult year for Dixit. In 2004, around the time of the wedding of Dixit's younger brother Pradeep, a sensational allegation rocked the andolan. "Suddenly, his brother Pradeep constructed a house for thirty-forty lakh, a lot of money at that time. Everyone believed Rajeev Dixit took money belonging to the trust and gave it to his brother."

There was big backlash.. Rajeev began to get isolated within his own Organization.

It was under these circumstances that Ramdev met a vulnerable Dixit, and a bond developed between the yoga teacher and the battle-weary swadeshi campaigner and deepened over the next three years. By 2007 Dixit would become Ramdev's mentor and a trusted aide guiding his political ambitions.

Remember Karamveer - who helped Ramdev acquire an ashram and taught him how to teach Yoga - he did not like Ramdev moving away from idealism. Ramdev had brought his family to ashram, trust money was being transferred to individuals, Ramdev bought a bike and house for his younger brother using funds from trust, he also bought a house for his sister and her husband. Ramdev had also started to charge his yoga classes. Closer to the stage and ticket costs increased manifold. All this hugely bothered Karamveer who thought sadhu's life was to give, not take. He believed that there should have been no place for moneymaking and self-interest in Ramdev's life.

He argued with Ramdev on these grounds. But Ramdev did not change. His old mentor had nothing to offer him anymore. His usability was dwindling and besides, new mentor, Rajeev Dixit was helping Ramdev sculpt his politics and economic worldview.

Karamveer left on 25 March 2005.

Between this, Balakrishna was appointed managing director of Patanjali Ayurveda, this had intensified the rivalry between him and Ramdev's brother Ram Bharat. These two rivals would unite against a third ascendant force: Rajeev Dixit. Dixit, national secretary of Bharat Swabhiman Andolan was the man who was always standing beside Ramdev now. Ramdev hoped to eventually convert this trust into full-fledged political party. With Ramdev's ballooning political ambitions, Rajeev Dixit's importance also grew. He was now the key man, at the heart of all the action - adviser to and architect of Ramdev's socio-political messaging.

Balkrishna and Ram Bharat looked on resentfully as Rajeev Dixit, a suave outsider, far better educated and articulate than either of them, usurped their positions as advisers and became Ramdev's trusted political mentor.

At the same time, Dixit's popularity was such that it was beginning to steal the limelight away from Ramdev himself. Yashdev Shastri, Ramdev's brother-in-law, was also jealous of Dixit, and had allegedly warned Ramdev not to give Dixit too much airtime: 'Or people will forget you and start following him.'

About a year after founding the Bharat Swabhiman Trust, in March 2010, Ramdev kept his word and launched a political party. Under Dixit's guidance, the party made fighting corruption and black money the centrepiece of their message. When Ramdev unveiled his Bharat Swabhiman Party in New Delhi, he declared, 'I will field candidates from all the 543 constituencies of India and then there will be revolution.'

In a bid to increase membership, Ramdev and Dixit planned yatra across India.

But Dixit was not unaware that his presence in Haridwar and closeness to Ramdev was causing unpleasantness. Madan Dubey, a long time associate of Rajeev Dixit who continues to propound the views of the Azadi Bachao Andolan, says, "He must have been troubled... Because that July [2010] when I asked him.. If I should also sign up to become member of Bharat Swabhiman Andolan, he told me to wait. He told me he was not sure... And that made me think there was something going on."

On 30 November 2010, two months after Ramdev and Rajeev Dixit began their nationwide Bharat Swabhiman yatra to drum up support for their party, Dixit was dead. He died on his forty-third birthday.

After massive cardiac arrest, Dixit collapsed in an Arya Samaj guest house in the remote town of Bemetara in Chhattisgarh where he was delivering a lecture. Although he was rushed to a nearby hospital, he did not last through the night. According to Ramdev, Dixit refused to have the medicines prescribed to him by the local doctor.

Pradeep Dixit, Rajeev's brother was not let to talk to him - 'I could not speak to him because they said he was not in a condition to talk.. By the time I reached him early the following morning, my brother was dead.'

But in a televised address on Aastha channel, Ramdev claimed to have spoken to him for an whole hour. "Maine karib ek ghante tak unko samjhata raha, ek ghante tak! Bhai Rajeev, ab shareer mein dikkat aa rahi hai to.. Unko shayad yeh genetic bimari thi... BP ki, sugar ki, heart ki... Teeno." (I kept trying to explain to him for an hour, a whole hour! Brother Rajeev, there is a problem in your body.. He probably had a genetic condition of blood pressure, diabetes and heart disease.. All three)

Pradeep Dixit cannot help but wonder now: How had his brother, who Ramdev's men had told him was in no condition to speak on the phone, managed to have an hour-long telephonic conversation with Ramdev about the ideal line of treatment? He also asserts that his brother suffered from no ailments and had never taken medicines for diabetes, blood pressure or a heart problem.

After Dixit died, a seemingly grief-stricken Ramdev had spoken to the family over the phone and requested them to allow him to arrange for the last rites on the banks of the Ganga in order to honour him. The stunned family went along with Ramdev's plans. So instead of taking body back to Wardha where it would otherwise have been flown to, it was transported to Haridwar on a chartered plane.

By next morning, hundreds of Swadeshi activists from around the country were making their way to Haridwar to pay their respects to their leader. One of them was Madan Dubey. It was 18 hours since death when Dubey arrived. Dixit's body lay in the Great Hall of Patanjali Yogpeeth 2 - an enormous space designed to allow thousands of people to do Yoga together.

In the hall, mourners sat on mattresses and stood around in groups. Dixit's body lay on a block of ice, draped in white and orange. But something was unsettling the onlookers: Dixit's face 'was unrecognizable... A strange purple and blue. His skin was peeling strangely. There was some black, blue blood around his nose,' Dubey remembers.

Dubey finally said out loud what many were whispering: 'There has been foul play... I want to know if anyone else feels that a postmortem should be conducted.'

He asked those who raised their hands to sign a petition addressed to Ramdev, demanding a postmortem before the cremation. By nightfall, there were fifty signatures on it.

At six next morning, a group of nice men walked through grey winter mist to take the petition to Ramdev, only to be stopped by the guard who refused to let them enter the two-storey building complex where Ramdev used to live at that time. Dubey told the guard, 'All right then, please go and tell Babaji that if he does not meet us, Dixit's dead body will not be allowed to be cremated.'

Finally, Ramdev relented to a meeting at 7:30 a.m., and called in Dubey and his associates but 'only after taking away our cellphones, to make sure nothing was recorded,' Dubey recalls, a fear that even Kirit Mehta referred to during his fateful encounter with Ramdev.

War of words began. Ramdev insisted there was no need for postmortem - 'What is need for it? This is natural death... I spoke to the doctors myself. I have reports from the doctors that he had a heart attack and all that.'

Remember Ramdev was not present where Dixit died. He only talked to him in phone. Dubey pointed this to Ramdev. He asked, how can he be sure there was no conspiracy?

Ramdev was growing angrier by the minute. He tried to rule out postmortem saying it was against 'Hindu dharma'. But Dubey dismissed this objection saying, 'He [Rajeev Dixit] had no dharma. His dharma was the service of this country. He never called himself a man of any religion. So don't worry about Hindu dharma and get the postmortem done...'

This went on and got uglier. Finally, Ramdev suggested that they all go to the hall where Dixit's body lay, and ask the people there, and the Dixit family, for their opinion. This sounded like a reasonable thing to do. But while Ramdev sat in his car with his people and sped off, Dubey and the others in his party followed in foot to the hall that was a twenty-minute walk away.

Cremation was originally scheduled for 11am. But angry Ramdev stormed into hall and commanded body be carried for cremation right away. It was still only nine. Ambulance with body set off before Dubey and company could reach and stop it.

"After the cremation, when Rajeevbhai's laptop and his two phones were returned to his family, they discovered that all three devices were completely wiped clean. All data on all three devices had been erased. I saw Rajeevji's room in Haridwar in a ransacked condition, things and documents missing from his room after his death... I've felt absolutely sure that there was foul play in Rajeevbhai's death... I know it. I saw the body. I will never stop saying it,' Dubey asserts.

- From Godman to Tycoon by Priyanka Pathak-Narain

#Baba Ramdev #Ramdev #Balkrishna #Patanjali #Ayurveda #Medicines #FMCG #Murders #Rajeev Dixit #India #Politics #Business

[sennokami]

*hanahaki disease.

An illness born from unrequited love. The person’s throat will fill up with flowers until they cough them up. The only way to cure it is if the love is returned, or to cut out the flowers out. This will also remove the feelings.

Madara was twenty-eight years old and two months fresh from peace when he coughed up his first rose. It crawled out of his mouth, the thorns pricking his tongue and drawing blood, and he had to leave immediately. Inuzuka Ashi, who he’d been talking to, made a noise of offense when he stood up, but Madara paid her no mind as he fled.

Once he was alone, he pulled the rose out and tore it apart. The thorns stabbed through his gloves but he didn’t care -- he shredded it until it was nothing but green pulp and flecks of red.

When he came back to Ashi, she was considerably colder, but he was in no state of mind to care. He couldn’t stop thinking about that rose, about the blood still in his mouth.

Hashirama invited him to dinner. Madara accepted.

It was a mistake.

He fought the urge all through dinner, as if sheer stubbornness would keep the flowers at bay. But their petals tickled his throat and he felt them blooming inside him, unstoppable in their growth, and he excused himself so he could gag in the bathroom. 

Four lilies spilled from his mouth, with snowy white petals and delicate green stems. Madara angrily yanked them out of the sink and flushed them down the toilet. His mouth ached and burned the entire time; when Hashirama asked him if he didn’t like the food, he simply shook his head and continued to pick at his plate.

When he got home, he discovered that his tongue was swollen. Whatever those flowers were, they’d been toxic.

The third time, he had no place to hide. In the office, he cut himself off in the middle of a lecture with a harsh, rattling cough that made Hashirama straighten in alarm. "Madara --!" 

"I'm fine, leave it --" he contradicted himself with another cough that scratched his ribs on the way out. Tiny petals scattered from his lips and onto his lap. Madara felt his face growing hot. He didn’t know which was choking him more -- the petals or the mortification.

He bent over, ignoring Hashirama coming to him, and coughed until a red chrysanthemum dropped into his cupped hand. Another followed it equally red, and Madara wanted to die.

"...oh," Hashirama breathed next to his ear. He put his hand on his shoulder.

Madara twitched back, crushing the flowers. "This doesn't concern you," he snapped. He had no other place to put the flowers, so he shoved them into his pocket. "Get back to what you were doing, Hashirama. The food surplus for winter --" 

"I feel them growing inside you," Hashirama said, and there was a strange unreadability to his tone.

Madara chose to see it as pity, and be bristled. "If all you want to do is waste my time, then I'll leave," he growled, standing. He felt more flowers unfolding in the dark spaces of his chest, their blooms tickling the base of his throat, and it was too much, all of it overwhelming. He yanked himself free of Hashirama. "Don’t mention this to anyone," he warned him, his eyes narrowed.

“Madara,” Hashirama began, his hands spread out in a gesture of peace, “please, don’t --”

“This doesn’t concern you!” Madara almost shouted, holding the flowers so tightly that he felt his hand grow damp from the squashed chrysanthemums. “Leave it. Now.”

He stormed out of there, his steps thundering, trailing bruised petals on his way out. At home, he coughed and coughed until his floor was a bouquet of red chrysanthemums, and he burned them all.

“You should tell them,” Hashirama said later, two weeks after the incident in his office. He sat in Madara’s home in the Uchiha compound, his expression so determinedly amicable that Madara wanted to cut his smile off.

“There is nothing to say,” Madara rumbled, scowling. He’d let Hashirama in because he’d thought this would be a village matter. Clearly, it wasn’t.

“Madara, it’s the most easily treated disease in existence, all you need to do is --”

“It’s so simple, is it?” he sneered, his grip on his cup tightening. “You’re so juvenile, Hashirama --”

“I don’t understand why you’re so determined to suffer --”

“It’s not your place to understand!” Madara hissed at him. He stood up but there was no place to retreat to this time. He turned around and walked into his garden, trying to banish Hashirama’s damnably earnest face from his memory. Why did he have to try so hard? Why couldn’t he ever just learn to stop, to give up, to leave things alone?

“I don’t want to see you in pain,” Hashirama said from behind him and Madara almost screamed. Hashirama was insufferable, he was awful, he was everything that he hated, because he never gave up, he never stopped, he just kept coming with his fucking peace and his fucking kindness and Madara wanted to claw him out, out.

He heaved. The flowers came up thickly this time, yellow and gold, and they sprouted uncontrollably until he gagged them out, stems and all. It was honeysuckle this time. Madara stepped on them, grounding down, until he felt Hashirama gently grab his shoulders.

He froze.

“Being loved by you is an honor,” he said. “You don’t need to hide it like this. Whoever it is, I’m sure they’d reciprocate it.”

The ugly, blooming sensation he associated with the sickness curled through him again. Hashirama didn’t move. The heat of his hands burned through his clothes, through his skin, and Madara breathed hard, shaking, staring at the pile of broken flowers under his feet.

Being loved by you is an honor.

He was going to burst into flames, he could feel it. His chakra was urging through him like a forest fire and his heart was squeezing, contracting so hard that he was sure it would split open right there.

“...you don’t know anything,” he said, his voice ragged. “You don’t understand anything. I’m not going to explain it to you. Just... just go. Leave me.”

After a long silence, Hashirama finally sighed and acquiesced. Madara listened to his fading footsteps, burning, shaking, dying.

#drabble #uchiha madara #madara #hashimada

[calleo-bricriu]

Finally, FINALLY, the author uses detail. Sort of. In some parts. But mostly not.

Continuing on...

Right, so, chapter 7, surprisingly doesn't have a time skip.

It's just Mizpra on the train with some long author monologing about how evil and twisted she is but he never really explains how or why just that "to kill, destroy, cause misery, and produce unhappiness was her life."

For a change he's briefly nice to her by saying she's clever, talented, and almost a genius but then goes on about how not really because she's selfish and gross.

"She did not understand or realise that she herself was the product of the last feeble efforts of exhausted ancestors." Wow.

Paragraph about how Mizpra is basically evil because she doesn't want to get married or have kids or have a sex life or any of that and it goes right into Leigh knowing that all because Leigh, being a genius, enabled him to realise it.

Why are we even talking about Leigh? He's not on the train.

Long paragraph about how children born to women with "nervous exhaustion" (again, not really a real thing) or to older women were basically trash that nobody should want and also makes for...infertile children somehow. This author is a doctor. A medical degree holding doctor, just in case you'd forgotten.

Few more pages rambling on and on about why Mizpra is evil and that only serves to make me still feel a bit bad for her because, so far, she hasn't really done anything all that terrible; the worst she's done so far is humiliate a student for wearing a corset and marry a guy for his typing abilities.

He keeps bringing god into it but, in all honesty, after reading seven chapters of this book he's convinced me that if one does exist it sure as hell isn't merciful.

Psychic conditions mean you can't have reasonable children.

Oh! Finally we get a description of an Evil Thing she's been at! She took a course on bacteriology which, whatever that is, would probably make her better at being a doctor than Leigh, for the sole purpose of sending Leigh's entire family contaminated mail. Cool initial thought but germs spread so she could also inadvertently cause an actual plague.

Her lab has a bunch of mouse and rat cages but, for some reason, they're not in there; they're in the bread. Comically poking their little heads and tails out of the...bread that I sincerely hope she won't eat.

Some descriptions of a bunch of dying rabbits in other cages that had all been infected with whatever disease she was working on.

Cotton tipped tubes are not going to contain pneumonia, diphtheria, typhoid, cholera, 'blood poisoning', or tetanus (sorry, lockjaw) and she really shouldn't be keeping them like that.

Oh, but this is common and "bacteriologists" just carry them around willy-nilly like that because they're--I mean, honestly, it's probably because constant low level exposure has given them immunity so, inadvertently discovering how vaccines work while not knowing that's what's happened.

We find out that, for some reason, she's particularly focused on killing Leigh's kid which is odd because there has never been much mention of her disliking that particular child, just all children. Also, it's 1901, just wait, he's got a pretty high chance of dying before the age of 10 anyway, especially living in a city.

She's a near genius level "bacteriologist" in the plot at this point and can't figure out how to spread diphtheria.

Air.

It spreads through the air.

Just powder it up and mail it along.

Or coat some baby toys with it, I guess that's the route we're going.

All right, so we've got the Baby Murder plan underway. It’s better than a few other Baby Murder plans I’ve heard over the years but, since we’re not even half way through the book I doubt Baby Murder Attempt #1 will fail.

A few scenes of her very nearly getting off to watching her lab animals die while also thinking, in a bizarre level of detail for this book, of a baby dying. Getting a little weird there, Mizpra.

How is it this author can detail that and detail all the ways the alb animals are suffering but couldn't be bothered to add any details to anything else?

Diphtheria doesn't need to enter through a slight wound, Mizpra, it just has to be present. It's very easily airborne and will also likely spread to anyone else that walks into that house until everyone is dead and they use fire as a way to clean the building.

So she goes out, gets a rattle and a whistle, goes back to her lab, files the whistle so it's likely to cut the kid's mouth then applies the "venomous bacilli" (Diphtheria is not venomous...) onto it all and wrapping it up in steralised cotton which would definitely have killed a lot of the diphtheria on there but, 1901 and nobody knows how infectious disease works.

Mizpra, we now find out when some professor addresses her as Dr. Newcomber, does, in fact, hold some sort of doctorate degree. Good for her.

He takes her back to his office and tells her, what amounts to, "Please stop leaving dead animals all over the lab, it's rude to the other students."

Long lecture about how she's coming off as kind of really fucking creepy by doing that and by being pointlessly cruel to the lab animals, she basically just rolls her eyes and asks him if he's done talking yet.

Which made him decide to fire her. She asked him again if he was done talking, and he went. off. on her for how careless she was in the lab and how thoughtless she was in regards to the other people that also had to use the lab which prompts her to start--reading--poetry out loud.

For whatever reason, despite being in Colorado, and despite Professor Ridge not being German she decides to start calling him "Herr Professor" then says goodbye in...French.

His farewell was, "There are no women of genius; the women of genius are men," so at this point, I'm kind of okay with him maybe getting diphtheria as well for that.

It hasn't been mentioned if she mailed the diseased baby toys yet but, they're all going to California now.

On to Chapter 8.

Back in New York with Obera.

There is no e in dachshund, a dachshund that is being mishandled by Obera's kid who still does not have a name, or, rather, his name hasn't been told to any of us reading.

Oh.

"Leigh, Jr." which is normal enough for about two seconds until you read on and the rest of the sentence says, "or, as he was called, Mops". The servant from the place in Hamburg gave him that nickname and that's just what we're going to call the kid now I guess.

Mops.

Obera has gone from the creepy child like girl in the "fascinating toque" to "proud and handsome in the full bloom of matronly womanhood" which is equally creepy sounding just in a different way.

Leigh is, of course, still a published author now and people love him for some inexplicable reason. I still sort of want to backhand him, he's so pretentious and doesn't even have the intellect to back it up.

"Leigh now counted his friends by the hundred". Sure.

They get into an argument about Leigh being a dick at work and Obera reminding him that he really needs to stop doing that shit before he ends up fired again and of course he lectures her on how her silly woman brain couldn't possibly comprehend his genius behaviour.

Can we just skip to the "infect the entire house and possibly city block with diphtheria" subplot here? Because I'm definitely more interested in that than I am in listening to this idiot wax philosophic and say nothing at all for dozens of pages on end.

Not yet? Okay.

Oh! No, few pages further and the diphtheria soaked toys have arrived!

Obera, having some good sense, was super suspicious at receiving a box addressed to a 3 year old, just sort of locked it in drawer to think about what the hell it might be. She assumes Mizpra sent it and that it’s probably poisoned or infected with something which I’d normally say is intuition but, she would have no way of even beginning to think Mizpra had the skills to do that (let alone the access to materials) so we’re going to go with metagaming here; Obera is clearly reading the story along with us.

Anyway, she sends the package to Dr. Bell so maybe someone else will be getting the diphtheria. Just doing a quick look up, in New York around 1900, the average fatality rate for diphtheria was--1,227 deaths in 1901, which is about a 15% rate, of the 7,726 cases reported in Manhattan and The Bronx, which is the area these people are living in.

So, her plan was kind of bad from the beginning; it had a 15% success chance IF it got to the point of infecting the kid.

Pneumonia, tuberculosis, and cholera would have been better, more likely to kill the kid choices. Cholera usually knocks over young children pretty fast.

Or just poison. You have a lab, you probably can easily get cyanide.

Not telling you how to go about your baby murdering plans here, Mizpra, just saying you're not exactly picking the ideas with high chances of success or doing it with any subtlety since they kind of immediately figured out it was from you and probably contaminated somehow.

And on to chapter 9!

Dr. Bell, probably being a real doctor, ran some tests and explained the results to Obera which, of course, made her faint immediately. She does that a lot.

So as she's sort of starting to wake up she starts screaming over and over that Leigh needs to kill her; her being Mizpra. Fair enough response to just finding out your sister in law tried to infect your entire family and specifically your child with diphtheria which had an--admittedly low death rate but still a 15% chance of it.

Leigh, in a surprising moment of clarity asks the other doctor if he knows what she's talking about, he says yes, then Leigh goes with, "NO TIME FOR EXPLANATIONS!" and tries to do medical care things on Obera.

Eventually  he goes with, "Okay yeah, I'll kill Mizpra for you."

Dr. Bell, the only sane person in the room, tries to talk him out of that and apparently a pulse of 120 is something we should know the meaning of.

So he's gonna lock himself in a room and not drink just to see what happens. What happened was he stayed awake for three solid days and that's it, only it took several pages to say that because we're supposed to feel sorry for this guy.

Several pages of a rambling story about a morphine addict not part of this story.

More pages of Leigh being mad at religion for no reason whatsoever.

Charlie listens to him ramble about how much he hates religion for the rest of the chapter then tells him he's such a well educated genius and leaves.

#Finally some DETAIL as to what some of this plot is #so #murder cw #violence cw #child death mention cw #animal torture cw #animal testing cw #hp rp #books

[ohprettyweeper-moved]

The Last Bandito

Part Eight: We Know What We Are

Masterlist

Chapter Summary: The woman with yellow eyes, Tyler, and Quinn all come to terms with who they are now. Warnings: Violence, death, blood drinking.  Word Count: 1765 A/N: This series was borne of this picture. The bolded phrases are prompts I have compiled to use in this fic. Also, I’ve forgotten to mention before that for the phrases in Ukrainian, I’ve been using Google Translate; forgive me if they’re not accurate!

We know what we are, but not what we may be. -- William Shakespeare

Another soul escaping from the dark science of the Bishops. The moment the sirens had gone off, she was running on foot toward the escaped. This time it was a man and a woman, deep in Trench, whose absence had gone undetected until now. 

She approached them slowly, her yellow eyes glowing in the night. They both stood tall but cautious as she approached them, ready to fight for their freedom if necessary. 

“Don’t be afraid,” she assured. “I’ve come to help you. To bring you to New Dema.”

Their defenses lowered, but only by a minimal amount. The woman was shivering, so, in an effort to show that she was indeed there to help, the yellow-eyed woman offered her coat. Her arms were exposed now, but she would be fine until she could bring the couple into New Dema and have her jacket back. 

The lights of the city came into view soon enough, illuminating her bare arms, and part of her collarbone and chest. The woman was huddled into the jacket, eyes forward toward safety, but the man had kept a careful watch on the one with yellow eyes since she had approached them. 

“How does a woman like you get scars of that intensity?” he asked. “Surely not from retrieving the lost of us from Trench.”

They were on the boundaries of New Dema now; she held her hand out to the woman, a silent request for the return of her jacket. The woman complied. While she zipped her jacket and fixed the hood over her head again, the one with yellow eyes thought about her life; how she came to be, how much she often wrestled with who she was and what she had become. 

“You can’t even begin to imagine what I had to go through to deserve these scars.”

Then, she was gone.  

After their girls’ night out, Ildri didn’t hear from Quinn for a couple of weeks. She went back to work as usual. She continued digging into Quinn’s past and, at Andre’s urging, continued to try to contact the other woman. One random afternoon, while typing notes on The Conference’s latest meeting, she received a message from Quinn. 

I’m sorry I’ve been out of touch. Could you meet me in my classroom?

Ildri immediately gathered everything, stuttered out a quick explanation to Andre, and made way for the university. 

When she arrived, Quinn was at the same podium she had stood at the first time the two women met. Her presentation on the dearg-due was up on the screen; once Ildri sat down, Quinn immediately began the same lecture she had given her students over the creature. 

“She calms her victims first with a siren song, and then steals their blood, leaving them mysteriously ill or dead.” She paused, and then continued. “That’s where I finish this lecture with my students, but there’s more.”

Ildri nodded, too afraid if she spoke, she might somehow spook Quinn out of what she had to say. 

“The descendants of that woman have been cursed with her need for blood and revenge. They appear to be as normal as anyone else, until their heart is broken. At that point, the thirst begins — not only for blood, but for murder.” Quinn came to sit next to Ildri. Tears were falling down her face. “I’ve never told anyone this before, Ildri. But what you said about everyone having demons … I don’t want to be this anymore. I kept myself away from love so that I could never be heartbroken, but that turned into keeping myself away from everyone. What I found out, is that loneliness can be heartbreaking.”

Still saying silent, Ildri reached out for her friend’s hand. This confession was not easy at all; in fact, it was the biggest risk Quinn could have taken. Perhaps bigger than she even realized. 

“I have dreams when the next one is coming,” Quinn continued. “I do my best to avoid it, but it’s like — like before I know it, I’m there. I’m in the moment and this monster that’s trapped inside of me takes over. The next one is going to be on my birthday.”

Ildri let go of Quinn’s hand to pull her into a fierce hug. “No, it’s not going to be. You and me and Faylinn, we’re going to go out and celebrate your birthday. You’ll have no reason to be heartbroken. And Quinn?”

“Yeah?”

Ildri held her at arm’s length and looked the other woman right in the eye. “Your secret is safe with me.”

Quinn hugged Ildri again. Ildri returned the embrace, and knew that her words were completely true. She wasn’t going to tell another living soul about Quinn’s secret. 

After their first trip into New Dema, the Bishops refused to allow Josh to accompany Tyler on future trips. Tyler knew the reason was related to his friend’s change in demeanor, but he didn’t dare ask the Bishops for any details. Josh refused to talk about it, leaving Tyler with no answers and on his own for the next venture into New Dema. 

This time, it was Keons who accompanied him to the gate. Tyler put up the hood on his black, zip-up jacket, and prepared for another small taste of freedom. In his heart, he was ready to run, but his mind knew that his plan was not steady enough to execute yet. 

“She’s out there,” Keons told Tyler as the gate slowly opened before them. “The one we need to further your race. Our race. Our people. We have waited until later in the day, past last call, for you to be released, so that you may have a different chance of finding her. Bring back information, before the sun rises again, and you will go to look for her again.”

Tyler turned to look at the Bishop next to him. Keons kept a steady eye on his charge, waiting for any sign of question or uncertainty. When he detected none, he nodded to the Heathens keeping the gate and it opened before them. With one more exchanged glance between them, Tyler moved forward, out of the gate, and into the forest that separated Old Dema from New Dema. 

Ahead of him, the sun was setting on the horizon. Only once did he look behind him, just before Old Dema was out of view. Being out of his room, out of the city, as this time of day approached was enough to make him long, only for a second, for the security of the wall and the rules of the Bishops. 

When he turned back toward the new city, that longing disappeared instantly, and Tyler began to run. He ran from the wall, from the rules, from this thing that he had become. He could feel the serum and the disease in his very smallest of cells, it seemed, and no amount of running would make that go away. 

Barely winded when he approached the border of the city, Tyler again pulled up the hood on his black jacket, as it had fallen while he ran. He cleared his throat and stepped onto a cement path that led from building to building, away from the cars and other vehicles that carried citizens from one place to another. 

As he approached a building busy with patrons, Tyler could smell her. The scent was sweet and strong and had a comforting undertone. He closed his eyes and breathed it in, reveling in the smell as it grew stronger. 

When he knew that she was nearby from the strength of the scent, Tyler fell back in with the crowd, and continued to follow the scent, until he had narrowed it down to the woman to which it belonged. 

They were on the west side of the city now. She was carrying two plastic bags, and a cloth one over her shoulder. A gentle hum floated from her throat, pulling Tyler in and making him wish he could follow her into the house where she finally stopped walking and unlocked the door. 

Just before she entered the house, her head lifted. Her lips parted slightly, and her brow furrowed only enough for Tyler to know she suspected something. The two of them were the only ones left walking the sidewalk now, with the exception of a few passing through the residential area. In order to keep his cover, he fell back into an alley between her house and the next. He had found her in enough time, he would do what he needed to remember the landmarks of the area, and then use the rest of his time until sunrise to explore Trench. 

Deciding he had spent enough time out in the open, Tyler backed further into the alley to find a way to stay in the dark as he navigated out of the city. He was three alleyways over when another man stepped out of a dark corner, wrapped one arm around Tyler’s throat, and held a knife to his carotid with the other. 

“Gimme what you’ve got and won’t be anymore trouble than this,” the man warned. 

Tyler closed his eyes and fought against the Heathen tendency. “Trust me. You don’t want what I have.”

The blade pressed against his skin. “Sure I do. Empty out your pockets, now.”

With the sharp edge of the knife threatening to bleed him out, Tyler could no longer stamp down the anger and fight rising within him. He grabbed both arms of the man, freed himself from the hold, and slammed the man, hard, against the nearby brick wall. Small pebbles of brick and cement peppered over the man’s face and clothes. 

Tyler held him against the wall with one hand on the man’s chest. “I told you. You don’t want what I have.”

The man’s jaw fell open and his eyes went even wider at Tyler’s red irises. Tyler opened his mouth, allowing the man a view of Tyler’s cuspid teeth, and the incisors next to them transformed to long, sharp fangs. The man drew in a breath, scratching at Tyler’s hand pressing on his throat. 

“What are you?” the man gasped out. 

“We are a new breed rising, with fire in our eyes. We don’t fear anything because we’ve already died.” 

In one last attempt at saving his life, the man plunged the knife deep into Tyler’s side. Tyler winced, but the wound deterred him only for a moment before he plunged his teeth into the man’s neck, drinking away the wretched life that flowed there. 

#twenty one pilots #fanfiction #twenty one pilots fanfic #twenty one pilots fic #tøp fanfiction #tøp fanfic #tøp fic #the last bandito #we know what we are #series #long series #bandito #trench #dema #inspired #sahlo folina #tyler #tyler joseph #josh #josh dun #original characters #can you save my heavydirtyqueue

[dxmedstudent]

Heya, can I confess something? I'm a nursing student but I'm afraid I've got hepatitus C from my mother. In my country it's somethig horribe to have, even thou my mother is not an addict and might just got it throu opperation as a kid or blood transfusion. I haven't been tested, private is too expensive, and nobody does a good job at regulal health care place. If I have it, I don't want everyone to know, I would just silently leave. I'm panicking, I have no other study options at this point!

Hi, thanks for writing in. Of course you can get it off your chest, if you wish. It sounds like you’re going through something really scary, and I can understand why you feel really stuck.  I had a relatively low risk needlestick injury a while back, and it left me reflecting a lot about how particular infections would affect my work. I’m really sorry your mum has hep C; a lot of people around the world have caught it through reused equipment at hospitals, infected blood transfusions, sex with a partner who didn’t know they had it, etc; there can be lots of causes that aren’t addiction, and even if it was from addiction, that doesn’t make someone a bad person. I have a good family friend who got it from a blood transfusion many years ago, for example. And regardless of the cause, it’s irrelevant; they still deserve to be treated well.Hep C is no longer an incurable disease, there are now drugs that can cure it with a short course. But it is hard to treat if you don’t have the money for the treatment. The cost of treatment somewhere like India is much, much cheaper and more readily available than in many Western countries (so I’ve heard that people from lots of countries shop around for it), but those costs can still be a lot if you are poor. I know that you mention nobody does a good job at a standard health centre, but I think that getting tested there is better than nothing? The risks of not knowing, and potentially living with an untreated unknown disease that you could pass on to patients, lovers and children. You don’t have to make any sudden moves, but it’s not a decision you can put off forever. It could affect a lot of areas of your life and put lots of people you love at risk if you do. You’d probably eventually want to be sexually active or have kids, or work with patients, and then it’d affect people other than you. I have to tell you that you should get tested; not only is that important for you, but for your future patients, too. Right now, it’s probably a huge cause of anxiety for you; that will never go away if you don’t know. Perhaps you don’t have hep C; wouldn’t it be a massive weight off your chest if you knew what for a fact? It sounds like you don’t know when exactly she got infected, and it’s not guaranteed for certain that it was passed on to you.  If you do have it, then knowing about it gives you a chance to plan for the future. Perhaps you could save up for treatment (I don’t know much about where you are, how much the costs there, how much your family earns etc, so it may not be possible, but it’s something tthat should be a priority if at all possible.And thinking about how it’s affecting you; if you practice as a nurse without treatment, you could risk exposing your patients to infection, and the same problems that you yourself are facing.  It’s not ethical to practice exposure prone procedures with an active communicable blood-borne infection, because it might result in patients catching it just like your mum did. I know you know this, and I know the position you are in is not easy for you. You usually don’t need to tell all your colleagues if you’re positive, but the relevant department wherever you worked or studied would have to usually know, and advise accordingly. If you worked there, someone would usually have to know, legally speaking. If you’re not working in a clinical setting, and not working with patients, then it’d be a different story; but I can’t advise on the legalities of who you have to tell. This differs a lot between places, and honestly you’d need local legal advice to know what your rights are, and what you are expected to do legally. Does your university have any resources like that for students?If the worst comes to the worst, and you do have hep C, but it’s not possible to get treatment, then I wonder if you could look at non-clinical roles in nursing? Like teaching, lecturing, things that don’t require you to get near patients with needles and potentially cause the risk of infection. I don’t know if you could talk to your university about non-clinical or non-exposure prone roles, without raising suspicions, but that might be a good place to start. Perhaps if you worked in  a non-riskyjob role that didn’t put patients at risk until you could afford treatment, it might help keep you financially afloat so you could save up for treatment. It’s easy for me to advise getting tested or getting treatment; I don’t have any idea of where you are, how much it costs, or how you could afford it. And I know that’s not fair and it’s not helpful; I’m truly sorry that I can’t be of practical use.I wish I could make things better; I really do. I wish you all the best, and whe you do get tested, I hope the result is the best possible one. My heart really goes out to you, I wish you weren’t stuck in such a hard place.

#ask #for the anons #askdx #ask dx #anonymous #anon #anons #asks #questions #dx dates #dxdates #dating

[lifeinmedicine]

From Generalist to Specialist: Re-learning how to Think

It’s a funny feeling starting fellowship. In many ways you are an intern all over again—you have no idea how to work the EMR or computer, you don’t even know how to get around the hospital, and people are looking to you for answers as their doctor but you have no idea what is going on. Yet at the same time you have an entire three years of training in Pediatrics under your belt—you’ve run codes, you’ve broken bad news to families, and you’ve been alone overnight as a senior resident overseeing an entire PICU. So in some ways you are at the top of your game, and in the same moment you are back to square one. And the question is how can you use your knowledge, experience and skills to manage your new responsibilities?

What’s even harder is that you have gotten so good at doing specific tasks that you won’t really be responsible for anymore. It is no longer your job to compete the H&P, put in all the orders, do the med rec, complete the discharge and make sure all the medications reach the pharmacy. These day to day tasks that consumed so much of your patient care experience as a resident are no longer your primary responsibility as a fellow.

In residency we are so bogged down with management details—what exact surgery was done? What drips are the patient on and what parameters do we need to maintain? What are the patient’s feeds and does the hospital carry that formula? In doing this we were completely blinded to the big picture for our patients. And in residency that’s okay—that was our job. We were there by the bedside day and night managing the moment to moment changes for our patients, learning the hospital system and making sure we could get things done smoothly and efficiently. So to get in lost in the details was sometimes beneficial in making sure that patient care was not compromised.

But now we have to completely change how we think. We have to stop worrying about the specific details and focus instead on understanding our patient’s disease, and how it affects their near and distant future, and the overall big picture. In some ways, we did do that as residents, but personally it was not in a large enough way—it was “what does this child need to get out of the ICU?” or “what can I do so that this child can go home?” In fellowship I find myself instead asking, “What does this child need in order to survive to adulthood?”

During our second week of fellowship we had a lecture on single ventricle physiology. When the attending asked us what our initial thoughts were we all answered with very specific things—hypoplastic left heart syndrome (HLHS), a Fontan procedure, etc. He asked us any other diseases that could cause a single ventricle physiology and to some degree we were stumped—we were so used to seeing and managing HLHS, the classic disease you think of with single ventricle patients, that we couldn’t even think outside that box to understand we were not talking just about one diagnosis, but instead a physiology that can be seen in a variety of patients. He then asked us “what does this infant need in order to live?” and again we answered with specific surgical steps that we all memorized from residency—a Norwood, a Glenn, and eventually a Fontan. And he asked us why were we so hell-bent on the specific surgical steps as opposed to thinking globally about these patient’s anatomy and physiology and what they needed to survive—as in good vessels that can supply blood to the lungs, adequate blood flow to the body, the ability to raise their heart rate as needed when they exercise, etc. And I realized it was because anytime I was taught about HLHS, it was in the context of receiving these patients immediately after their surgery and being terrified of how complex they were, and the overwhelming thought that they were so fragile. Because of these fears I focused so much on the details of their surgery, their drips, what to do in case they have an arrhythmia, what HR and BP to maintain, etc. that I never even stopped to wonder do I even actually understand what is happening with this patient? Do I even understand why they got this specific surgery, or how their medications work and why they need them, or what predisposes them to even having an arrhythmia? I was so focused on the details that I lost the big picture. And now that big picture is my entire job—understanding what lies ahead for a baby born with HLHS, what are the global things that this child needs for survival, and what steps can I take to make sure at every phase of their disease they are still on that path towards recovery?

At first I felt like I was screwed. Great, everything I know about cardiology is so specific and focused on day to day management or taught to me in the perspective of ICU or inpatient care that now I need to start all over! But I realize I don’t need to start all over per say, but I do need to re-learn how to think—I need to learn how to think of the big picture, I need to learn all the other aspects of patient care that go into managing children with heart disease, and I need to remember that though we are taught general Pediatrics for kids who are healthy at baseline, I need to figure out how it is now different for kids who have underlying heart disease. We are taught that when a child has a cardiac arrest, most of the time the cause is respiratory and not cardiac; now I need to remember that in my patients who have pre-existing heart disease, maybe it is actually cardiac. How does their unique anatomy predispose them to desaturations not related to the lungs? I don’t need to relearn everything, but I do need to learn how to think differently about my patients.

Initially I felt frustrated that I had become so good at being a general pediatrician, and now I had to forget all of that. But I learned that even though we don’t practice general pediatrics, we don’t need to throw everything non-cardiac out the window. In clinic we often talk about how we as consultants need to communicate our findings with the patient’s primary pediatrician, and the best way to do so. We talk about how to respect their many responsibilities and time constraints and find ways to share that load and work with them as a team. We also discuss how we can re-educate general pediatricians to improve referrals to cardiology and how to detect at risk patients sooner and more efficiently. And it our basis and foundation in general pediatrics that makes this possible—having been trained primarily as a pediatrician and now transitioning to a specialist should give us better insight into how to create and improve this two-way relationship.

So, I don’t think it’s about totally relearning or forgetting everything you know and starting from scratch; instead it’s about reframing it and learning how to utilize it in a completely different way – it can be overwhelming at first, and possibly even harder than just erasing what you know and starting over. But I think making this mental switch and asking yourself how to elevate your thinking from day-to-day details to long term management is crucial in understanding the new responsibilities you carry and transitioning from generalist to specialist.

#pediatrics #pediatrician #fellowship #residency #medicalschool #medstudent #pediatriccardiology #cardiology #medicine #healthcare

[celebritylive]

A blind jazz piano prodigy is taking the world by storm — so much so that scientists are studying his brain to figure out how he’s able to master those talents.

Matthew Whitaker was born prematurely and with many health issues, but that hasn’t stopped the 18-year-old from making a name for himself and pursuing his dreams as a world-traveling pianist, according to CBS’ 60 Minutes.

Since he was 11 years old, Matthew has been performing jazz piano recitals, appearing in more than 200 clubs and concert halls globally, the outlet reported.

Last spring, the Hackensack, New Jersey teen appeared at the New Orleans Jazz Festival for the very first time, and now he’s involved in a new venture: helping Dr. Charles Limb with a study aimed at better understanding how exceptionally talented musicians’ brains work.

“I think anytime somebody watches Matthew play piano the first thing that you think is, ‘How does he do that?'” Limb told 60 Minutes. “Except rather than just wondering I’m actually trying to answer the question.”

View this post on Instagram Good #SundayMorning! Wishing everyone a great Sunday and #ThanksgivingWeek with your loved ones! #EverydayIsADayOfThanksgiving #matthewwhitaker #matthewwhitakermusic . . . . . . #blues #funk #jazz #jazzmusic #soul #pianist #pianomusic #pianoplayer #musician #hammondorganist #hammondorgan #yamahapianos #yamaha #grandpiano #jazzconcert #jazzeducation #talentedmusicians #musicvideo #instamusic #gospel #gospelmusic #gospelmusician

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RELATED: Blind and Partially Deaf Man Becomes Accomplished Pianist After Receiving Keyboard from a Stranger

Though he’s incredibly successful today, Matthew’s journey to becoming a piano prodigy wasn’t always easy.

When Matthew was born at 24 weeks, doctors told his parents Moses and May Whitaker that their new baby — who weighed 1 pound and 11 ounces — had less than a 50 percent chance of survival, 60 Minutes reported.

Among the many complications that he was suffering was retinopathy of prematurity, a disease caused by abnormal development of retinal blood vessels in premature babies that could lead to blindness, according to the American Association for Pediatric Ophthalmology and Strabismus.

“I think at the time, I didn’t think he was gonna make it,” May told 60 Minutes. “So it was, you know, just very scary.”

In an effort to retain his vision, Matthew underwent 11 surgeries over the course of two years. By the end of the second year, Moses and May decided to stop with the procedures because “we just felt like he was going through too much” and “the doctors weren’t seeing it was getting any better.”

But doctors warned that with the loss of Matthew’s eyesight, he may never speak, walk or crawl, according to 60 Minutes.

“Most kids learn to crawl, they learn to walk because they want to try to get to something,” Moses explained. “Well, Matthew couldn’t see to get to anything. So a lot of his toys and stuff, we had to have sounds, so that he would want to crawl want to reach those things.”

As it turned out, music was the very thing that got Matthew moving, with him crawling toward speakers as an infant to feel the music. By the time he was 3, Matthew was showing off his musical talents with a keyboard that his grandfather gifted him, according to the outlet.

“They were nursery rhymes more so than anything,” Moses said on 60 Minutes. “So they weren’t that complicated. But what he was doing was complicated. Because most kids don’t play with both hands. And they don’t play chords and the harmonies and all of that. And Matt was doing that.”

With a very clear sign of their son’s talent in front of them, the Whitakers decided to hire a piano teacher for Matthew.

And once he started working with Dalia Sakas, the director of music studies at the Filomen M. D’Agostino Greenberg Music School in New York City, Matthew’s talents began to flourish.

Though Sakas told 60 Minutes it is “insane” how Matthew can listen to a piece of music once and then recite it, she also admitted that it was a bit frightening to play such an influential role in the musician’s life.

“It was scary more than exhausting,” Sakas explained to the outlet. “Because you didn’t want to blow it. Because you have someone of this talent, of this creativity, this enthusiasm. You don’t want to squelch that. You don’t want to mess up. He’s obviously, you know, got something to offer to the world and so you want to make that possible.”

Under Sakas’ leadership and guidance, Matthew was performing around the world when his story intrigued Limb, a surgeon and neuroscientist with a musical background.

View this post on Instagram God is amazing! I have so much to be #grateful for in 2019! Thank you all for supporting me! I wish you health, love, peace and joy in 2020! #matthewwhitaker #matthewwhitakermusic

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Limb specializes in studying MRI brain scans to better understand how exceptionally creative people’s brains work and in Matthew’s case, was curious to know why his brain seems to work better when improvising tunes, according to 60 Minutes.

After some hesitation from the Whitakers, Matthew’s parents agreed to let the young pianist participate in Limb’s study.

The teen underwent an MRI at the University of California, San Francisco with a mini keyboard on his lap and performed a series of auditory tests, the outlet reported.

One of those studied how Matthew’s brain levels responded when he played the keyboard, while the other observed his brain levels as he was listening to music in comparison to listening to a “boring” lecture — and the results were astonishing.

“Because he is blind we looked at his visual cortex. And we didn’t see any significant activity there at all,” Limb explained to the outlet of the scans while Matthew was listening to the lecture. “Then we switched the soundtrack for him and we put on a band that he knows quite well. … This is what changes in his brain.”

RELATED VIDEO: Meet Chloe Flower, the Show-Stopping Pianist From Cardi B’s Grammy Performance

“Pretty remarkable. His entire brain is stimulated by music,” Limb continued. “His visual cortex is activated throughout. It seems like his brain is taking that part of the tissue that’s not being stimulated by sight and using it or maybe helping him to perceive music with it.”

“It’s sort of borrowing that part of the brain and rewiring it to help him hear music,” Limb added.

While it’s certainly interesting, Matthew said the results reflect what he’s known all along.

“I love music,” he told 60 Minutes.

Matthew is scheduled to open for Gregory Porter’s All Rise tour in Germany from March 2 to 16, according to his Instagram. He also has a number of tour dates scheduled in the U.S. through May, his website states.

His latest album Now Hear This is available now.

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#Celebrity

[aion-rsa]

Hans Holzer at 100: America's First TV Ghost Hunter Still Haunts Paranormal Community

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It's time to examine the career and legacy of paranormal pioneer Hans Holzer.

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Born in Vienna on January 26, 1920, Hans Holzer was like many children, fascinated by the ghost and fairy stories he heard in his youth. But those tales, told by his Uncle Henry, which he retold at school to the disapproval of adults, stayed with Holzer. Ghosts became his life’s work as one of the world’s most famous figures in the paranormal field.

Before his death in 2009, at age 89, Holzer authored nearly 140 books on the paranormal, extraterrestrial life, witchcraft, and more, beginning with 1963’s Ghost Hunter. During a career that famously involved the “Amityville Horror” house case in 1977, Holzer also taught parapsychology at the New York Institute of Technology, and both appeared on, and consulted for, Leonard Nimoy’s late 1970s show In Search Of… And interestingly, actor Dan Aykroyd claimed an obsession with Holzer, which inspired him to write Ghostbusters.

The paranormal subgenre of reality television exploded around 2005 – a trend that continues today with numerous series on networks such as Travel Channel, and A&E, and which has expanded online. Four decades prior, Hans Holzer was one of America’s first famous ghost hunters, preceding Ed and Lorraine Warren.

“He was the king of all paranormal media,” says Dave Schrader, lead investigator of Travel Channel’s unscripted series The Holzer Files, which re-examines Holzer’s cases, and host of the popular paranormal radio show Beyond The Darkness. “He was like the Howard Stern of his time, and was on TV, wrote for movies, and wrote books.”

“He became our first multi-media spokesperson for the paranormal,” says Jeff Belanger, author of more than a dozen books on the paranormal, co-host/producer of New England Legends podcast, and longtime writer/researcher on Travel’s Ghost Adventures. “He had the personality for it; he had the storytelling ability, and he was putting himself out there at a time when no one else was.”

“He was one of the very few here in the States to have been able to publish most of his findings into digestible books,” says daughter Alexandra Holzer, who authored the 2008 book Growing Up Haunted. “He also could write fiction, poetry, sheet music and compose; he wrote, produced and directed some of his own projects, and even recorded two songs on a ‘45 record entitled ‘Ghost Hunter’ (of course).”

His status exploring “the other side” (a phrase he claimed to have coined, and did help popularize) was an impressive development considering he left Austria—and his studies of archaeology and history at the University of Vienna—with his family in 1938 before the annexation of the country into Nazi Germany. Re-settling in New York City, he continued studies at Columbia University, eventually earned a master’s degree in comparative religion, and a PhD in parapsychology from the (rather dubious) London College of Applied Science. In his personal life, Holzer married the Countess Catherine Buxhoeveden in 1962, and had two daughters, Alexandra and Nadine Widener, before the marriage ended.

Holzer’s work impacted the paranormal field in significant ways. Most notably, the way he spoke about it was thoughtful and scholarly. He eschewed words such as “supernatural” because it suggested phenomena was outside of scientific definition. Rather than using “belief”—which he called the “uncritical acceptance of something you can’t prove”—he said he focused on evidence.

read more: The Holzer Files Season 2 Confirmed

His approach was almost journalistic, yet sympathetic; Holzer viewed ghosts (and their spiritual cousins, “stay behinds”) as “a fellow human being in trouble.” He felt strongly that tragedies would ensnare unfortunate souls, and trap them between the spirit world and this one, “unable to proceed due to the inability to free themselves from emotional turmoil.”

Belanger says he understood the power of storytelling in trying to connect his audience with the hauntings.

“He combined some aspects of journalism, but at the end of the day was definitely about trying to capture the story, which is kind of really what all of us are trying to do … there's obviously varying objectivity when it comes to every single case, but at the end of the day he tried to capture a haunt as objectively as he could to take you, the reader, listener, viewer into it so you can form your own opinions.”

Holzer developed a unique take on how the other side was structured as well, detailing a bureaucratic process that involves a queue, and checking in with an afterlife clerk for another shot on Earth. In 2005, he told Belanger’s Ghostvillage that people would be free of disease after life, but otherwise, things looked pretty similar to this realm with houses, trees – just “maybe a little nicer.”

Holzer’s books and media appearances helped bring ghosthunting into people’s homes. Less than a year after his first book was published, he appeared on The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson in January 1964. By 1965, it was The Merv Griffin Show and the Today show in 1967. He would continue to make television appearances throughout the rest of his life.

“We're all standing on his shoulders to some degree,” says Belanger with regards to Holzer bringing paranormal investigation to television.

“There were only a few names of people that were out there really consistently looking into this, and his was arguably the biggest when I was growing up, so I think that he sort of set the tone for what paranormal investigation is supposed to look like for my generation.”

Belanger adds Holzer understood the media, and used it as a way to further discussion.

“He’d say ‘Okay, laugh at it if you will, say there's no such thing as ghosts, but here’s something I found’, and that cracked the door to get other people talking about it, and that door has just been cracked more and more ever since the 1960s thanks in large part to him -- now, we've got all these tv shows that have really blown that door wide open.” 

For his part, Schrader – who dedicated his book The Other Side: A Teen's Guide to Ghost Hunting and the Paranormal to the researcher — remembered the “slow indoctrination” of Holzer into his life.

“Growing up, my mom and aunt were avid readers, and they really had a wide fascination with the paranormal, and there were always books laying around by Hans Holzer at one of their houses. 

But Schrader says Holzer also “made it okay to talk about these experiences.” 

“He didn't treat people with disrespect, he didn't roll his eyes at people; he went, heard their stories, and did what he could to help the spirits.”

“He cared about the cases and the people no matter what,” says Belanger. “That's the business he was in: having people welcome him into their homes to talk about something deeply personal, deeply profound, and he captured those stories.”

read more: How The Turning Updates a 100-Year-Old Horror Story

Alexandra echoes this sentiment when speaking of the way her father dressed when in the field, which she says has inspired other investigators to wear a fedora-style hat, buttoned shirt, and jacket.

“He was dressed comfortably but always with something of taste and décor; he felt it set the tone of respect and care in dealing with so many.” 

That care and respect may have been influenced by his first visual paranormal experience, which took place after he moved to New York City. He described seeing the ghost of his mother in a white nightgown, pushing his head back upon a pillow to prevent him from getting one of the migraines that plagued him.

“I said, ‘Oh, hello, Mama,’ and she disappeared,” Holzer told Belanger. 

Holzer also led tours, and highlighted the geographic sprawl of ghost stories with books such as The Great British Ghost Hunt, The Lively Ghosts of Ireland, Haunted Hollywood, The Ghosts of Dixie, Ghosts of New England, and Hans Holzer’s Travel Guide to Haunted Houses, among others.

Paranormal researcher Peter Underwood, a contemporary who wrote Holzer’s obituary for The Guardian, said his colleague told him, "There are thousands of houses, if not hundreds of thousands, all over the world where stay-behinds, and ghosts, and memories that won't fade, keep sharing the apartments with flesh-and-blood occupants ..."

And that meant an endless supply of material for investigations and books. Impressively, during a time before reality TV ghost hunting shows populated the landscape, Holzer’s writing, lectures, and appearances provided a living for his family. But Holzer was remarkably progressive.

While the predominant methods seen in paranormal television today are influenced by Judeo-Christian theologies, Holzer viewed traditional organized religions as profit-making corporations. He was something of an elder statesman in Wiccan communities and other pagan traditions, and prominently contributed to the mainstream education of such philosophies via books The Truth About Witchcraft, and Inside Witchcraft. He ascribed to reincarnation and was convinced he had previously lived during the 1692 Massacre of Glencoe in the Scottish Highlands. And though demons and demonic possession became fashionable, he didn’t buy into devils, monsters, or other supernatural beings.

And rather notably for the time in which he lived, he was a vegan.

“We used to go out to eat but back then finding a vegan restaurant was quite the challenge,” says Alexandra. “You don’t want to go to a place with him without enough choices; it could get ugly!” 

Although the modern paranormal investigative community has become known for a plethora of gadgets, meters, ghost boxes, and so on, Holzer preferred looking to the past for his work. During field research, he utilized a “trance medium” where a spirit would use a medium’s mind to convey messages. Trance mediums were popular during the Spiritualism era of the late 19th century. Along with a pen and paper, camera, and audio recorder, this was enough for Holzer.

“He was never keen on technology,” says Schrader. “He always believed the basics.”

Paranormal researcher, and “Weird Lectures” speaker John E.L. Tenney recalls a time in the 1990s Holzer saw his equipment he planned to take on an investigation. 

read more: Conjuring Family Reunited for Kindred Spirits Ghost Hunt

“He asked me, ‘What are you going to do with all that stuff? I said, ‘Maybe find a ghost?’” says Tenney. “He laughed, and said, ‘Someday you’ll throw all that stuff away, and you’ll allow yourself to have an experience.’” 

“He was right.”

Holzer also possessed a level-headed approach to investigations, not appearing to be easily shaken. Indeed, he said he had never been frightened on a case.

According to Schrader: “When he's hearing some of the most chilling things from the spirit world, he always remained even keel, even-tempered, and tried to control the conversation and to bring some peace to the spirits—instead of winding them up or making things worse, he was always the calming influence.” 

Holzer remains associated with well-known cases such as the Whaley House in San Diego—which he decided was the most haunted home in America—and the Barnstable House in Cape Cod, Massachusetts. But the Dutch Colonial house in Amityville, New York, became the location for his most famous, and likely most controversial, case.

Following the 1974 murder of six that occurred in the structure on Ocean Avenue, the Lutz family moved in in 1975, and only stayed 28 days before they left, claiming they were tormented by evil entities. This became the basis for Jay Anson’s 1977 book The Amityville Horror: A True Story, which was then adapted into a film. Holzer investigated the home that same year with medium Ethel Johnson-Meyers. Johnson-Meyers claimed she channeled the spirit of a Shinnecock Native American chief who revealed the home was built on a sacred burial ground (despite the Amityville Historical Society noting it was the Montauk tribe who would have been on that land). 

Holzer’s investigation, as well as photos he took from the scene, became part of the Amityville lore, and he wrote multiple books about the case—Murder in Amityville, Amityville Horror, Amityville II: The Possession, The Amityville Curse and The Secret of Amityville—two of which became the basis for movie sequels.

As for Hans Holzer at 100, Dave Schrader says he believes the investigator would now embrace technology.

“Now you've got real engineers, real scientists that are putting effort into creating tools and equipment that will test the theories,” he says. “He might have been reluctant to move into it, but I think he would have begun grasping some of this as well and utilizing the technology because I think he would see that it might be even less fallible than a medium.” 

Meanwhile, Alexandra believes her father would be back in Europe, tackling the subject matter of UFOs, writing, and composing more music. She says he grew weary of reported hauntings, and would say, “There’s more to life than a ghost who refuses to move on! There are other worlds and beings here and out there!”

Alexandra adds that, on her father’s birthday on January 26th, her family will reminisce of the moments they shared, and she will make his favorite cold salad, “a Russian recipe from my mother’s mother, Rosine Buxhoeveden, who was very close to father.”

“And in the wee hours of that morning, after the coffee is brewed, I’ll toast to him while all are still asleep as coffee was his go-to choice of beverage brewing in our home at all hours of the day and night.” 

And though Holzer passed away 11 years ago, Belanger did ask him about his centennial, and what he might be doing on his 100th birthday. 

“Looking forward to my 101st,” he told the author. “I do what I’m meant to do. A man who takes himself too seriously, others won’t take seriously, so I’m very careful about that. I want to be factual and to be useful – and I try to help anybody who wants help.”

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Aaron Sagers

Jan 24, 2020

Paranormal

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