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analviel · 3 years

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TIM DRAKE IS NOT ROBIN

It just so happens when Tim was planning to find Dick, his parents suddenly call him to tell him that there's a party or an event or just something on the other side of the world he can attend with them.

Sometimes they do this and Tim always says yes. It's as rare as leap years. Meaning it has happened only three times in his life before. He agonized over it. But you know, Tim's just a kid and there's no guarantee he can actually do something about Batman and Nightwing. Besides, Batman's been managing -if you can call it that- this long, with Alfred by his side, who's words certainly weights more heavily than the neighbours kid. He can afford a couple of weeks away from Gotham. By that time, Batman probably would've gotten his head straight. He's a hero, he's like, really strong, if anyone can get through this... besides, Tim figures Superman or Wonder Woman will do something before he truly crosses the line, right? Why would a kid know better than real superheroes, right? They must just be waiting until they're really needed. Right? Even though Tim personally thinks they should've at the very least locked Batman up somewhere he can't harm anyone or himself if they can't convince Dick to go back to being Robin. They're heroes.

Tim really wants to spend time with his parents. But before he leaves, he sends letters to every place he thinks Dick may be. The Titans Towers, his apartment in Bludhaven, where he lives with Starfire, Haly's circus, even to houses of his friends heroes. (Tim is twelve/thirteen alright. And one that has maybe below average self-awareness and his letters were very polite even if the act itself might've been vaguely sort of threatening).

So Tim leaves Gotham to spend time with his parents. It's busy, his parents keep him busy, and he doesn't have much time to dedicate to the news from Gotham. And really, if this is how it always is, no wonder his parents don't always have attention to spare on their kid in Gotham. So many things to do, so many things to attend, so many people to meet, and even more sites to visit. And the fighting. Tim hadn't realize it was this bad and suddenly thinks that, you know, it might've been better if he did stay back home. He realizes his parents actually brought him with them because they think a kid will somehow... magically fix them...??? Tim doesn't know, adults can be stupid.

Eventually, they realize the wrong in their ways and sends Tim back when his presence proves ineffective. Tim comes back to the city burning.

Well, not literally, but sort of.

Parts of it are burning. But not the whole thing. That's something.

Batman has been missing. And looking into it, at his last appearance, Tim surmise he retained a heavy wound.

(Or he's dead, not like they'll reveal it to the city just to cause more chaos and panic.) Batman seems to be out of the field and that was what Tim wanted, before he would've crossed the line.

Only, thing is, he'd already revealed too much weakness. The Batsignal had been taken down after one too many close calls on the perps they pick up. And the violence only raised from there.

(The first month when Batman and Robin and Batgirl's absence started to become suspicious. The second month Batman is deep in his spiral of violence. The third month Tim follows him around and then makes plants to pick up Dick that doesn't come to fruition and then sends his letters and then leaves. Six weeks with his parents, a few days from and to Gotham, two weeks to get caught up with what happened in Gotham. Batman is out, recovering, resting, dying, who knows.

Five months was all it took for Gotham to go to hell. And all it took was one dead son.)

Spoiler rises.

Gotham has a new champion.

Tim regrets that he hadn't been able to help. Tim will help.

Tim has a new champion.

Spoiler has a fixation on Cluemaster. It's not that difficult to go from there.

As long as, one, you know who was giving the police the answers to Cluemaster's gimmick. And two, that you know there even is a new vigilante because Spoiler is not like Batman who beats perps and leave them on the sidewalk for the police to pick up.

For wearing an almost eyesearing purple costume, Spoiler prefers to keep in the shadows and if not for the time Tim had trailed after Batman's madness, he wouldn't have learned the streets enough to notice the hints.

Tim purchase a laptop, watch tutorials day in and day out, buys pieces from junkyards to fiddle with wires and boards, and leaves Stephanie Brown a gift on her windowsill with a purple ribbon. Tim greets Spoiler over the comms. He calls himself Asset.

(It is not well-thought out because Stephanie takes to calling the mystery person who snuck into her room and refuses to give anything about themselves out 'Ass'. Tim did not actually sneak into her room but sent a drone to drop off his gift. Steph doesn't budge.)

Tim is not yet good enough to hack into cameras around Gotham. He finds he's good with a computer but not that good, his real talent lies not in the software but in the wires and soldering iron and the tiny bug camera/audio he has Spoiler plant around Gotham. If he can't take other cameras, he'll make them. (Also in case someone more experienced at hacking than he is manages to get in the system, Tim has a self-destruct button just for that. Yes, Dr. Doofenshmirtz is a good role models for mad scientist wannabes.)

A week is all it takes for Spoiler and Asset to get all the necessary evidence against Cluemaster. They celebrate. They are thirteen year olds and they just prevented a bomb from going off and put a bad man behind bars. They are high. They find more cases, for the most part C-rank villains and bellow but they also help with the big names by Spoiler planting more cameras and Tim sending the data and feeds for her to drop off to Jim Gordon. He is the only one who knows of the characters that have risen after Batman's sleep and can guess enough from Spoiler's stiff shoulders to keep that to himself.

Then...

Then it is six months and two weeks.

Tim watch from his now multiple screen behind his walk-in closet as a grave is dug out from the inside. Because S&A have put cameras everywhere just in case. After all, it's places you think are of no interest that criminals will sought to make deals in.

Tim does not send his partner to what may be a zombie but instead tells her to clear the direction Jason is stumbling towards. It takes him minutes to realize that Jason is patrolling his Robin patrol. Jason is sent to the hospital and Tim contacts them to list him under the Drakes, paying for his room and every other necessities. Has him transferred to the hospital that Drake medical industries is personally funding. When asked the name, Tim says Alvin Draper. He gets a cab to the hospital, finds Jason knocked out, peers at Robin's face. It's when they're alone, the previously dead boy's hands wrapped in bandages that Tim confirms in disbelief that as far as he knows, the boy matches Jason Todd. As if him digging his way out of Jason Todd's grave wasn't enough. Granted, Tim doesn't even know the shade of his eyes, so he's not the best judge.... Tim snaps a picture from different angles of the room and takes another cab back to Bristol while thinking up a story.

Tim knocks on the neighbour, tells them he's got something of Jason and if he can see Mr. Wayne. Tim is surprised himself by how relieved he is to see Bruce standing alive and well. Or not standing, leg and arm in a cast, an IV beside him on the couch in the drawing room. Tim weaves his story. Little Tim Drake wandering around Gotham, stumbles on a bunch of medic picking up a boy that Tim recognises as the neighbour's dead kid, pays for his hospital bills, takes a couple of pictures after the first aid or whatever and gives Bruce the pictures. Bruce makes his way to the hospital.....

I've lost steam at this point.

You decide if they arrive to see Jason and Bruce and Alfred is all tearful while Tim awkwardly leaves the room to resume his brainstorming on the S&A latest case, or they find an empty bed and Bruce goes on a frenzy tracking his undead lost son.

Additional idea: So Tim not being there didn't kill Bruce, but Bruce has been crippled and Batman is dead now. So without Robin, Batman did die.

Maybe Dick comes back to become Batman with Jason as his Robin, since that's not a combination often seen (Or the Batman Jason and Robin Tim, that's more common, though I'm loath to give up Spoiler and Asset). Around this time Babs comes back to the scene as Oracle with the birds of prey.

Additional additional idea to how they'll work with everyone back on the scene: since the Bats have the fighters and more equipped to report to time sensitive stuff, maybe S&A focus more on cold cases. Where Spoiler goes sneaking around, poking at old cases with Asset in her ears, figuring out puzzles and old clues, making breakthrough after breakthrough and bringing long overdue justice together.

Either the Drakes dies without Batman there to slap the poison out of Jack's hands because he's too busy searching for his son, or maybe they live with Tim able to direct Batman there immediately. Either way, Drake industry sponsors S&A, so now Spoiler also has toys like the Spoil... er plane??? Spoiler bike??? Eh, the name's work in progress.

#tim drake #dc #robin #batfam #dc comics #red robin #batman #Stephanie brown #spoiler #batgirl #and i write #jason todd #fic idea #red hood #bruce wayne #tim is not robin #asset tim drake

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macgyvertape · 3 years

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Castlevania kinda had a pacing problem

spoilers for all of Netflix’s Castlevania. I haven’t seen much analysis for the show on tumblr, im honestly curious if discussions I had with irl friends mirror what fandom talks about

tldr: Castlevania seems inconsistently paced from season to season, and within season as well, leads to a lot of characters motivations feeling unclear so characters repeatedly explain why they are doing something while they’re doing it

overview of the seasons:

S1 I know somewhat of a test for Netflix but it has good main trio character establishment and sets the scale of the conflict

s2: pretty complete emotional arc for most characters and resolves the plot of killing Dracula while setting up additional characters to continue the story. Isaac, Hector, Carmilla all established with the audience as characters whose story would continue

honestly I would bet this is the most popular season

S3: s2 did a bit of worldbuilding, but this season really fleshed out the world with both a wide range of locations and exploring the question of “what now, Dracula is dead but vampires and night creatures remain”.

There were basically 4 plot threads: 1) Sypha/Trevor investigating the cult & Saint Germain; 2) Hector & Carmilla (also introducing Lenore, Striga, Morana); 3) Isaac’s journey of revenge & self discovery; 4) Alucard sits around the castle and is betrayed.

overall characters roughly feel like they are in the same place if not worse. A big criticism I saw at the time, which hold up after rewatching this before s4 is nothing felt resolved for the main characters

I would say this season is where the pacing issues start to become apparent, juggling 4 plot threads that lack a central theme or even mutual character connection. If there was a central theme it would be “humans are awful to each other”. The Judge doing Hot Fuzz style murders, The Wizard in the tower, Sumi & Taka

S4: it starts with the same 4 plot threads, though upfront it is made clear that the plot theme is “people are trying to resurrect Dracula”, and the progression of the plot works to resolve unrelated plot threads until the main trio reunites for the boss fights. To me and my friends watching it was obvious that the show would reunite the main trio, the question was how and how far into the run time.

Season 4 is why I’m writing this essay, for the past 2 days I’ve been like, yeah that character sure explained their motives repeatedly maybe with some philosophical discussion, but it’s just such a weird place considering where they were in s3

Alucard’s arc:

Where he was left in season 3, it was after killing people he had trusted in self defense and impaling their corpses. It was clearly meant to parallel Dracula’s dislike of humanity. However overall his character lacked a proactive motivating force.

Honestly the most interesting thing I found in s3 was Alucard clearly misses Sypha and Trevor, however they don’t miss him or refer to him

One reason Sumi & Taka betray Alucard is for the secrets and power of Castlevania. After inviting the village including St Germain who Alucard was warned of into the Castle, Alucard makes 0 effort to secure anything, not even his personal childhood room. Guess he really learned nothing

Discussing St Germain, I think it’s funny that they had a several minute flashback sequence for his lost girlfriend (who doesn’t have a name or a voice actor), to remind the viewer of who he is, and to justify how he’s suddenly back and down for murder.

In s4 there is the call to help the village, and the walk back to the castle is a montage of Alucard opening up to Greta and becoming friendly literally overnight. He laughs off the impaling, and basically all of the darker things he went through in season 3, which has me asking what was the point of his season 3 arc then?

Honestly writing this I realize the biggest parallel he has with Dracula is the call to action from a bold woman with a dramatic entrance speech which then leads to a romance

Isaac’s arc:

in s3, with all the other themes of “humanity sucks” I was always unsure if the townspeople were meant to appear irrational while attacking a larger force instead of letting him pass through an leave, or him not caring about how he’s provoking them is meant to show his insanity

ive seen the discussion elsewhere, curious about the Discourse here

is s4 Isaac has the whole monologue about how he now has agency but him gaining that agency was his s3 arc. In s4 he’s already at the point of accepting it. By the end of s4 he’s one of those who comes the furthest from his first character appearance to his last.

s4e5 where of Isaac attacking Carmilla in Isaac’s 2nd appearance had him resolving like 4 plot threads at once (Carmilla, Striga& Morana, Hector, and Isaac himself).

but i do wonder if Trevor, Sypha, or Alucard even know any of these people exist. I think not

I was honestly confused if I missed a scene from his dialogue about building something and what is inherent nature, to “My plan has evolved, my plan is now conquest” because he only conquests the one castle and the rest is left unclear

Upon rewatch the connection there is “killing [the wizard] felt just ... I liked that feeling”, so the show says that Isaac in the end attacked Carmilla for the sake of justice and not revenge.

Isaac in his last conversation expresses the theme of s4 “build something new on these old bones, where people can live for the future”

however, his arc honestly feel scenes were cut, and then dialogue was written around it. He’s the only living character who doesn’t show up in the epilogue and the sentient night creature “what if I could empty hell” dialogue was some of the most interesting worldbuilding. Night creatures with sentience and possibility of regaining memories!!!!

The Council of Sisters & Hector’s arc:

oh I’ve already seen s4 discourse about Lenore/Hector while searching for character analysis, a chunk of it seems to be rationalizing the absolute difference between how s3 ended with these characters and s4. It was extremely confusing for me and my friends; wondering if 1) was Hector showing more emotional intelligence than before and putting on a facade to cover up hatred? Nope 2) did more time pass than 6 weeks for there to be some kind stockholm syndrome? No, Hector seems fine to let Lenore kill herself

The slave control ring: played up in the climax of s3 and easily solved s4. s3 Lenore says if he tries to harm them, flee, or take it off it would cause crippling pain, in s4 Hector just easily cuts off his own finger.

for a control ring that they take time to show a version being on the Rebus, it doesn’t do much controlling of Hector

also guess the definition of “do harm” just refers to direct action

Lenore in s4: has no purpose in conquest, has that useless remarked on by multiple characters, is imprisoned, then kills herself after a genre aware philosophical discussion. This essay is long enough, but what the fuck happened to this character who ended s3 clearly physically and sexually abusive? Seriously this was one of the biggest writing changes to the point where she was treating Hector as an equal. Compare her last words in s3 “shh the real people [vampires] are talking”. The change in the relationship is actually something I would have taken being shown, or atleast told of what exactly caused this change other than the vague “you adopted him”

Striga&Morana get the best arc of the Council. 3 scenes: the tent argument, Daybreak armor fight & argument resolution, declaration of feelings and turning away. You could argue Castlevania is plot to be connective tissue between fight scenes, but for all the dialogue about human resistance in different seasons it was nice to see it. Overall the scenes were short but had a lot of showing what their relationship is not just telling,

unlike Carmilla. For as much hyping up as they did with her, and as much power as she had, she only appeared in 2 episodes and no other group except Isaac knew about her military conquest.

the map scene where she states her motive for conquest of wanting to take things from old men is the key example of how characterization became tell not show. How interesting was that monologue compared to the past seasons flashback to her murmuring the old vampire lord, or all her repeated insults of men/man-children that shows how she judges people??

That monologue had to carry the weight of justifying the Sisterhood bonds falling apart as well as why her motivation changed from building a human pen from Styria to Braila to world conquest. I think it did so poorly

Sypha & Trevor

really Sypha & Trevor have the main plot in the show. I checked and post season 1 the only episode they don’t appear in is s4e6, which is entirely devoted to the Isaac, Hector, and Council of Sisterhood arc. Their partnership and adventures are the main plot of the show.

Its easy to see what Trevor’s arc was over the show: coming to peace with the deaths of his family, taking up the mantle of being a Belmont, and starting a new family with Sypha.

With Sypha I actually had to scroll through tv tropes for what is her character arc, and I guess hers is disillusionment from adventure and life outside the speakers? My friends joke that Sypha’s magic is what the plot demands to look cool in a fight, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing.

Tangent: the ending of their arc was easy to guess: as soon as Trevor went to fight the final boss alone I literally said “oh i bet Sypha’s pregnant, Trevor’s doing a heroic sacrifice, theyll use the unexplained magical dagger mcguffin, and 60/40 odds that he goes through an infinite corridor to outright come back vs just the implication he might come back”

I guess my final thought of the show, was overall the SUPER Final Boss got my by surprise. It was a good twist I enjoyed. Not that Death appeared, I had guessed that from the heavy foreshadowing, but I was surprised by who it was, because I had thought I thought the characters involved feeling shoehorned into the plot was just more bad writing. The Alchemist who put St Germain on the path or murder for no discernible motive for helping? Sure gotta move the plot along. New Dracula court member Varney who has a whole introduction with almost every character he meets and banter about his smell? Sure thats basically how all characters talk with a snarky and acerbic voice.

#Castlevania #castlevania spoilers #castlevania meta #castlevania season four #overall i enjoyed the show #id love to find some discussion of the show #this wound up being more of a recap than a persuasive essay #but i think my tldr thesis statement stands

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aquarianlights · 3 years

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I am in a serious financial bind. 😥 If anyone is in a position to listen & help or signal boost, pls keep reading...

This is from my apartment complex. I am in low-income housing. I called them & sent them proof I could pay on the 23rd. I told them I could (just barely) put 100 down now & they said that was too little.

They said they would file for eviction on the 16th, which adds $150 to my rent. They will cancel the court date and eviction on the 23rd when I pay.

But that doesn't cancel the $150 filing fee.

Idk where that $150 would come from. Idky they think it's fair that someone who cannot pay should be forced to pay even more??? That makes no sense. I can only just barely afford my rent every month as is.

These are from my energy company. I apparently owe them over $600. I genuinely do not know how this happened. We were on the phone for a very long time trying to figure it out & I was in tears for the latter portion of it because I swear I paid.

I usually keep record of my payments via taking a picture of my receipt since they are electronic, but my dog chewed up my phone (which I have pics of if need be for evidence) and broke it, so I had to get a replacement phone sent to me from the insurance company & nothing transferred from the old phone, so all my pics were wiped.

I found no record in my emails, either.

The meds I am taking to try to go into remission and the autoimmune disease itself both cause brain fog and issues with time warping, so it is possible maybe I skipped a month or something, but I highly doubt I would have skipped up to 600+ dollars worth of payments.

I have tons of electronic and hard copy calendars & they are all synced and constantly updated so that I know when payments are due. I also have text and email reminders sent to me, but I could find no reminders in my email for MONTHS now until they were telling me they were going to shut my power off if I didn't pay this. Idk why I was not sent reminders for months???

In the end, I agreed to set up a payment plan. Paying, like... 50-60ish on top of whatever my electric bill is every month for 12 months. It was the lowest they could go.

I can barely afford my electric bill as it is, so idk how I will be able to do this? They did give me a list of charities in my area so I will be using what little energy I have to call around & see if any of them would be willing to help me pay this. Idk how those work (they're mostly churches???), so I'm just gonna try & see what happens. 🤔

On top of all that, I *think* this is telling me my Medicaid has been cancelled but I'm not 100% sure?????

I'm going through treatment for a very serious, disabling problem that should last ~1 year and rn Medicaid is picking up what my Medicare doesn't cover and some of my doctors/specialists and treatments are medicaid only.

If I lose this, I'm basically done.

I know they'll do backpay if I get it back, but Idk if I *will* get it back. I'll be trying to get it back, but in the meantime, I guess I'll just have to pay out of pocket, idk??? Which I do not have.

I have lost almost ALL autonomy due to this autoimmune disease, which (in a very simplified form) is basically my immune cells "eating" my muscle tissue. I can barely get out of bed. Treatment should put me in remission & give me my life back. I am seeing a rheumatologist, neurologist, dermatologist, PCP, physical therapist, psychiatrist, psychologist, and going to a holistic pain treatment center that does a different kind of physical therapy to bring down pain levels (which I was put into that program by my rheum). All of these are in relation to & necessary for my disease. I am going through TONS of testing almost weekly now & trying out treatments like IVIG and chemo where I am in the hospital hooked up to an IV for 4-6+ hrs of that day and the cost of those things without Medicaid picking up what Medicare doesn't cover is astronomical. I have to sign waivers every time I get my blood drawn (which is almost weekly now), do tests, and do treatments saying I will pay if Medicaid does not pick up the extra.

I already have crippling medical debt; I don't need more. I'm scared they won't let me do any more tests or treatments if they see I am just letting it all go to collections & am not paying.

This could mean the difference between having a life worth living (to me) where I am happy & thriving & autonomous or being bed-bound & living a life of just existing from day to day & miserable & in pain & suffering & unable to do anything for myself. This is literally life and death for me because I wouldn't be able to handle continuing to live in the latter scenario. I cannot handle living like I am now. Knowing my treatments are progressing is what keeps me going. Knowing I can go into remission is what keeps me going. Knowing my future is one completely different from now is what keeps me going. But if I cannot have that and am destined to live in this current state, it's just not worth it. I don't know a person alive who would want to live like this.

Finally, my anger noodle needs to get to the vet for MULTIPLE things. Nothing is, like... life threatening or super immediate like his cancer was last year, but they're things that need to be addressed in terms of preventative care & to make sure he isn't in pain.

He needs his trachea checked, possibly x-rays for that, maybe more...

He needs some medication updates, needs a physical, needs a full groom & nail clip under anesthesia (for those who are not familiar with Echo, he has extreme fear-based aggression & usually gets this done under anesthesia; since I worked with him so much, he had his first non-anesthesia nail clip at the beginning of quarantine, but he has gotten worse during quarantine & with my muscle eating disease, I can no longer restrain him & don't have the physical strength to run a brush through his thicker fur as his winter coat is in, so I can no longer groom certain areas of him at home, so his tummy & back legs are matted & I fear he may need to be shaved... which breaks my heart since you don't shave double coat dogs unless medically necessary.), he needs a full physical, & needs to be checked over for MCT's.

He may also need a fecal test or something else, as he has been having odd bowel movements. 😥 His tummy has been upset lately.

I have been crying myself to sleep every single night & often during the day because I cannot get him to the vet. No, it isn't urgent or life threatening. But he is reverse sneezing more than normal & I worry about tracheal collapse, which is a common small dog thing & even MORE common in pomeranians specifically. Every time he has a fit, I think "Oh god, this is it. This is the time I'm gonna have to rush him to the e-vet & get slammed with a huge bill & he is not gonna be okay..."

It breaks my heart to see his legs & belly matted. He is horrible about letting me groom him coz of his aggression so he only gets a full grooms at the vet, but I do short grooming sessions at home with him nightly. Takes about 2 hours just to do the majority of one side of him (not even all of it; just most) coz he needs breaks & lots of praise every few strokes or he will tear me to shreds & hurt himself snapping on the undercoat rake. 😥

But now that my autoimmune disease has atrophied my muscles to the point holding up my phone without something to prop it up feels like I am lifting weights & tires my arms out with a lactic acid burn & pain, I can no longer groom him with the patience he needs & can only groom in 20 minute intervals at the VERY longest. By the time I have gotten one leg done during the week, his entire other side is matted. 😞 Matting on dogs---especially double coat dogs---hurts them. It's like if someone were to wrap your hair around their fingers & then pull it taut. It's a constant pulling pressure on their skin... it's painful & irritates the epidermis. I feel miserable feeling the matting on his back legs & tummy & now feeling the mats beginning to form on the rest of him. He hates me working them out, even with the detangling spray. I know it must hurt so much...

So he may need to be shaved at this point & that will destroy me. I feel sick thinking about it. But anything to get him out of pain. Maybe it is what's best for him while I go through this year of treatment & get my muscles back. But in order to do that, I need to get him to the vet.

The stress of not being able to get him to a vet is tearing me apart & literally making me physically ill.

He is my world. My everything. My #1. My heart dog. My priority in life. My entire universe revolves around him. I would do anything for him. Not a single person, animal, thing, etc, comes before him. It is KILLING me that I cannot provide proper care for him right now. I always always always make sure to sacrifice for him if need be & his things ALWAYS come first, even if it means I'm not eating or not paying bills or whatever. As long as he is taken care of & his needs & wants are met, nothing else matters to me. And right now........ I feel he is suffering because of my finances & the fact my treatment with building my muscles up is not going fast enough.

I cannot control the latter one, but the first one is something I can at least ask for help for. So that is what I am doing.

If anyone is in a place to help, these are my venmo & cashapp codes. I also have paypal.

💙 Venmo: @kqroswell

💚 Cashapp: $kqroswell

💜 Paypal: @kqroswell or [email protected]

If there is another form of payment you're thinking of, lemme know. I also have fb pay activated if you have me on FB (Killian Q Roswell).

Thank you to everyone who read through this & anyone who can help or reblog this. 💖

Sincerely,

Your v scared, struggling transman who really wants his bills/rent paid & his dog to go to the vet,

Killian 💞

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misssquidtracy · 4 years

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SOS Part 3

So I grabbed the whump bat last night, took aim at my boi’s head, then proceeded to wallop him into the exosphere like the kickass cricket player I’m most certainly not. If you happen to see a moving star tonight, chances are it’ll be Gordon completing his first orbit, not a wayward satellite.

-x-

‘Gordon, you’ve activated your emergency code….Gordon? Gordon!’

Gordon stirred feebly, his head screaming in protest when he tried to raise it to follow his brother’s voice. He could hear movement outside what remained of Thunderbird Four, but knew he was in no condition to investigate the source.

Everything hurt so much.

Cracking an eye open, he spied Fuse retreating back to the Chaos Cruiser, Braman in his arms. Underwater distance distortion made separating one fuzzy shape from another hard, but the aquanaut possessed just enough visual strength to make out Havoc staring down at him from the safety of the cockpit.

She was smirking at him.

The coldness behind those blue eyes, so different yet so similar to Alan and Scott’s, filled Gordon with hopelessness. He was critically injured and had never so much as raised an eyebrow at Havoc or her brother, yet knew neither of them were going to lift a finger to help him.

Hopelessness turned to quiet despair when the Chaos Cruiser turned and began to make its way toward the surface. Using every ounce of willpower he possessed, Gordon managed to crack his eye open again, only to be met with pitch blackness. With the Chaos Cruiser’s spotlights gone, he was reminded of exactly how dark and isolated the seafloor really was.

He hoped he’d get to see his brother’s faces again. The way Scott frowned at him in concern if he left for a rescue without eating breakfast. The way Virgil smiled indulgently at him whenever he tested out a new joke. The way John sighed and shook his head at him when he asked if denial was a nice river in Egypt. The way Alan gawped at him in silent adoration every time he pulled a successful prank on one of their older brothers.

It would be nice to see Brains, Kayo, Penelope and Grandma again as well. Despite bearing no relation to the first three, Gordon considered them family and had fond memories attached to all of them. The way Brains chastised him every time he brought a pod or Thunderbird Four back in less than mint condition. The way Kayo smartassed him if he ever made tasteless jokes about her being Scott’s girlfriend. The way Penelope tutted at him whenever he requested iced tea instead of ‘proper’ tea. The way Grandma fussed over him on his rare down days.

Yes, he’d like to see them all again.

-x-

A familiar voice roused Gordon from the depths of unconsciousness.

If possible, everything hurt even worse than before. He was vaguely aware of water entering the demolished remains of Thunderbird Four’s cockpit and gave himself a mental pat on the back for having the forethought to put his helmet on. At least drowning wasn’t a threat.

The unbearable pain in his head, neck, left arm and right leg definitely was, though. His suit didn’t feel like it was torn anywhere, but he was fairly certain he'd broken at least two major bones.

Opening his eyes was far too much effort. Plus, doing so would confirm his worst fear; that he was still trapped in the dark, cold, terrifying carcass of his beloved yellow submarine.

Maybe his brothers hadn’t picked up his SOS. Thunderbird Four’s systems were damaged beyond recognition, and his comm device was equally redundant.

“Gordon? This is your brother, John. I need you to sit tight, help is on the way.”

Gordon stirred in response to the voice that had dragged him back to a state of semi-consciousness. He tried to say his brother’s name, but lacked the strength. The pain in his neck was starting to make him feel sick.

“Virgil, Scott and Alan have just left Tracy Island. Their ETA is approximately six and a half minutes. I’m going to stay with you until they arrive, okay? You don’t have to answer, but know that you’re not alone anymore.”

A stray tear leaked out of an eye that still refused to open.

“I’m not getting any vitals from your suit, so can’t say for certain what shape you’re in,” John continued, his voice calm and soothing, “But I promise that we’ll get you out in one piece. I’m half hoping we’ll have to shave your head, then maybe I can be the one making fun of you for a change.”

Another tear leaked out.

“Hey, do you remember that donkey mom adopted?” John gave a laugh that sounded genuine and forced at the same time, “You were very young, so may not remember. We called him Brandy because of the way he weaved like a drunk whenever he came to the gate. He was a working animal from a neighbouring farm who ended up at the local auction house when he couldn’t plough in straight lines anymore. His owners couldn’t afford basic farm machinery and were ineligible for a government grant, so were in no position to get him veterinary treatment. Mom felt sorry for him, so bid on him as a companion for Apollo, who was dad’s horse at the time. Mom used to sit you on him and lead you around the paddock. Well, I say lead…poor Brandy was so wonky he usually just ended up dragging mom diagonally across the field, but you loved it. He died of a colic complication right before Alan was born, but we told you he’d gone to live with a wild donkey herd on Carrot Mountain instead.”

Two more tears managed to escape before John’s voice faded and nothingness descended once again.

“It’s okay, Gordon. I’m here.”

-x-

His head was resting on something soft and sweet-smelling.

“Hurry, Parker! Please.”

Penelope reminded him of a swan; beautiful yet dangerous. He wondered if she liked the colour yellow as much as he did.

More nothingness.

-x-

Gordon’s next brush with consciousness wasn’t pleasant.

He was being carried, which meant he wasn’t underwater anymore. Whoever was carrying him smelt familiar and was cradling him in a firm yet gentle grip. He hoped it was Penelope, but knew it was probably Scott or Virgil.

“…multiple broken bones, severe whiplash, moderate head trauma.”

John was around as well, though Gordon couldn’t tell if his presence was physical or holographic. The voices he could hear were hurting his ears.

“….Chaos Cruiser sighted three miles northwest. I recommend immediate evasion.”

Gordon suddenly saw Havoc’s cold smirk imprinted on the inside of his eyelids.

She’d wanted him dead.

Even after all the lives he’d saved, someone had wanted (and presumably still wanted) him dead.

The thought terrified him.

“Whoa, Gordon!” Scott cried, tightening his hold when the aquanaut suddenly began to thrash in fear, “Easy! You’re safe now!”

Gordon didn’t think he’d ever feel safe again. Ignoring the agony brought on by his shredded muscles and shattered bones, he began to spasm and jerk in Scott’s arms, his caramel eyes wide his fear.

“Virgil!” Scott yelled, swearing loudly when he almost dropped his crippled brother onto the floor, “A little help!”

Two sets of hands were suddenly restraining him. One yanked his helmet off so that he could breathe unencumbered, but the rush of cool air to the face only served to worsen his frenzied writhing. A bolt of unimaginable pain shot up his spine and exploded at the base of his skull, making his vision swim.

Hurk, hurk.

“Virg, you need to back off,” Scott suddenly instructed, his tone offering no room for negotiation as he lowered Gordon’s lower half onto the floor and propped his torso up against his knee, “He’s going to be sick.”

“Won’t he choke?” came Alan’s frightened voice.

“Not so long as he’s sat upright,” Scott replied, patting Gordon gently on the back when the aquanaut began to hyperventilate, “I’m more worried about what he’s doing to his existing injuries in this state. We need to calm him down somehow.”

“There are handcuffs and some olanzapine in the first aid kit,” Virgil yelled from Thunderbird Two’s cockpit, “Restrain him and give him a 10mg intramuscular shot after his stomach has settled. That should calm him down.”

Poor Scott was powerless to do anything as his second youngest brother proceeded to puke all over him. Granted, he’d had people throw up on him before (they all had), but this time was different. Gordon’s condition made movement impossible and Scott was acutely aware that the stress of vomiting was making the aquanaut’s pulse erratic.

“I’ve got you,” Scott reassured, rubbing his brother’s back, only to recoil in horror when his hand travelled too far north, the resultant pressure causing Gordon to scream in agony.

The next ten seconds passed in a blur of pain glazed stupor. Scott yelled something at Virgil. Virgil yelled something at Alan. Alan panicked and began to cry. John yelled something at Virgil. Virgil swore and abandoned his post in Thunderbird Two’s cockpit to fetch something from the medical bay. Scott took whatever Virgil had found and stabbed it through Gordon’s suit and into his bicep, apologising quietly as he depressed the plunger.

In the background, a familiar British accent cut through the mayhem.

“Oh, Gordon.”

-x-

Gordon’s eyes fluttered open.

White. Everywhere was white.

His left arm was shrouded by a sling.

The floor was white.

His right leg was encased in a cast.

The curtains were white.

His head was concealed by bandages.

The walls were white.

His right arm was hooked to an IV.

The lab coat on the kind looking lady studying his heartrate monitor was white.

White had always been Gordon’s least favourite colour, but not anymore. He had a sudden newfound hatred for the colour purple.

Specifically, the shade of Havoc’s armour.

Luckily, the flowers on his bedside table were yellow.

-x-

Gordon’s first week in intensive care was not smooth.

Nightmares plagued him every time sleep beckoned, images of dark water, purple armour and cold smirks tormenting him as he sought relief from the pain of his battered body.

Scott rarely left his side and asked the nurses to take shifts so that one was always in the room. They’d been happy to oblige, but had been less happy with Scott’s habit of falling asleep next to his brother’s bed.

Virgil took over the running of International Rescue while Scott stayed in the hospital. John answered distress calls that necessitated the use of Thunderbird One and Alan covered space monitor duty when his redheaded brother was earthbound. Sally channelled her worry into cooking and freezing enough homecooked dinners to fill Thunderbird Three’s cargo bay, while Kayo took out her fury on her kickboxing dummy.

Scott was strict on visitors, mainly because Gordon tended to get emotional when he received them. Virgil visited every day with supplies for Scott. John came in every second day with bags full of Gordon’s favourite snacks. Penelope visited whenever her schedule permitted (which was quite often) and offered Sherbert as a form of pet therapy. Kayo and Sally took their turns after Virgil departed, their arms laden with homecooked culinary disasters and bunches of fresh hibiscus flowers from Tracy Island’s beach.

Alan wasn’t allowed to visit. His first proper time seeing Gordon had been three days after the aquanaut had been admitted. He’d landed the Helipod in the hospital’s car park, retrieved the stack of magazines he knew Gordon enjoyed reading from the backseat, asked a nice nurse for directions, found the correct room and pushed open the door, only to be met with the sight of his usually cheery brother having a full blown panic attack.

“OUT!” Scott had bellowed, releasing his hold on Gordon’s forearms to shove Alan back into the hallway. In the temporary absence of his oldest brother, it had taken the combined effort of two nurses to keep Gordon in bed.

Scott’s insistence that Alan not see Gordon for a bit was an exercise in futility, considering Alan had seen and heard everything in his brief six second visit. The youngest had received a tongue-lashing that was both unfair and unjustified, but he’d given Scott a free pass. The eldest Tracy was under a considerable amount of stress, which was further compounded by the late night vigils he held in a bid to alleviate Gordon’s night terrors.

It was two weeks before Alan learnt, second-hand from Virgil, about Gordon’s newfound fear of the Chaos Crew, specifically Havoc.

Unfortunately, it was another four weeks before Gordon recovered enough to tell them the reason for his fear.

Rage was an incredibly rare emotion to witness in the aquanaut, but when it happened, the world and his wife knew about it.

A common misconception outside of International Rescue was that it’s youngest operatives relied on their older brothers for protection. While Gordon wasn’t adverse to Scott or Virgil defending his honour, he could be quite the formidable foe when sufficiently provoked.

As Havoc would soon find out.

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galahadwilder · 4 years

Note

Hey! I'm following you for ML stuff, but I finally figured out you were into Batman as well, took me awhile. Do you have any advice on where to start for people who want to get into it? I just want to know which Robin is which when I read fanfiction hahaha. Thank youu

So the first thing to know is that there is no single Batman comic that will explain the entire Batfamily, because there are so many of them that the Manor must be running out of bedrooms by now. The second thing is that I’m not great at figuring out a starting place—a lot of comics are sort of aggressively mediocre and I can’t exactly tell the standout ones from the bad. Anyone who has any suggestions for anon, feel free to comment with them!

(In terms of fanfic recs: read literally anything by @unpretty. They are a wizard. Their fanfic is so good it has literally won awards.)

Now, a brief introduction to every member of the Batfamily that I can currently remember—save Alfred and Batman, who I am assuming you already know.

The Robins

Dick Grayson (Robin I, Nightwing II, and Batman IV). Richard John Grayson was a former child acrobat, member of the flying Graysons, and the first child adopted by Bruce Wayne. He is a human disaster of a Hufflepuff who makes terrible life choices, leaves his Nightwing costume on the floor of his apartment where literally anyone can see it, and doesn’t know how to cook anything but cereal. Despite his terrible lack of self-sufficiency, actually gives amazing life advice and is the heart and soul of the Batclan. There are villains who are willing to kill to protect him.

Jason Todd (Robin II, The Red Hood II, Red Robin I, Batman III). Jason Todd is the ballsiest Robin, having met Batman while attempting to steal the tire from the Batmobile, and, upon being confronted by the Goddamn Batman, decided the best course of action was to attack him with a tire iron. Jason is passionate and impulsive, but also extremely studious and intelligent. Well-liked despite his abrasiveness. He is the first Robin to die in the line of duty; when he came back, he and Bruce had a falling out over not killing the Joker, and now their relationship is rather shaky. Jason uses guns and has moonlighted as a crime boss in order to better control Gotham’s criminal element from the inside, which works mostly because he has nerves of steel and the ability to spin stunningly convincing bullshit at the drop of a hat.

Carrie Kelley (Robin II.5): See “Elseworlds and Future.”

Tim Drake (Robin III, Red Robin II, Drake I, Batman Beyond II): Tim has the greatest intellect of the Batclan; however, unlike Barbara (see “Batgirls”), Tim’s wisdom score is through the bloody floor. He figured out Batman and Robin’s identities on his own, and after Jason died he walked up to Bruce and basically told him “I know who you are and I’m Robin now,” which... worked. Tim is the least physically gifted of the Robins, but he makes up for it in detective skills and tactical intelligence. He was the only Robin to still have living parents outside of the Batfamily, though they were murdered soon into his career. He dropped out of high school and was acting CEO of Wayne Enterprises for a time. He has crippling depression and is implied to be suicidal.

Stephanie Brown (Spoiler I, Robin IV, Batgirl III): see under “Batgirls.”

Damian Wayne (Robin V): Damian is the son of Bruce Wayne and Talia al Ghul, and was raised—unbeknownst to his father—by his mother and grandfather to be an assassin, as well as to be the best at literally everything (for context: despite being a young teenager, he technically holds multiple unaccredited PHDs). However, this stunted his social development, so he is rude and abrasive almost constantly, though he has been getting better and his closest friends and family can see that he’s covering for a superiority/inferiority complex a mile deep. Damian has a constant need to prove himself and has taken up his father’s adoption habit, though he prefers animals. Animals are better than people.

Duke Thomas (Robin ??, The Signal): Duke Thomas was the first metahuman Bruce allowed into the Batfamily. Originally decided to take on The Riddler by himself at the age of... seven or so? Eventually joined a collective called “We Are Robin” and fought crime, unsanctioned. After his parents were driven mad by Joker Venom, Bruce took him in. He now fights crime in the daytime, unlike the rest of the Batfamily, using his nebulously-defined extrasensory abilities to augment his Batfamily training.

The Batgirls

Barbara Gordon (Batgirl I, Oracle I): while Tim may be the most intelligent member of the Batclan, Babs is the all-around smartest. Her intellect is damned high, and unlike most of the Batfamily, Barbara is actually capable of making good decisions. She just... decides not to, most of the time. Barbara is the daughter of Commissioner James Gordon and was the first Batgirl; she lost the use of her legs when Joker shot her in the spine, but refused to take a backseat in the Batclan’s war on crime and became Oracle, hacker extraordinaire who directs the activities of every single vigilante in Gotham from her clocktower lair. She has since regained the use of her legs and reclaimed the Batgirl mantle, turning Oracle into a living AI.

Helena Wayne (Batgirl I.5, Huntress I): see “Elseworlds and Future.”

Cassandra Cain/Wayne (Batgirl II, Black Bat I, Orphan I): Cassandra is the daughter of assassins Lady Shiva and David Cain, and had what is hands-down the worst childhood of the entire Batfamily (her father would shoot her in the leg, and if she flinched, he’d shoot her again). She was raised without spoken words, and as a result the language centers of her brain are more adapted for body language than words. This gives her a kind of combat clairvoyance where it’s nearly impossible for a human combatant to surprise her. After her first murder, she swore to never again take a life, and joined the Batclan to atone. I personally believe that she is Bruce’s favorite child and the true heir to the mantle of the Bat.

Stephanie Brown (Spoiler I, Robin IV, Batgirl III): the daughter of Arthur Brown, a criminal known as Cluemaster, Stephanie became a vigilante specifically to oppose her father and then just had a bunch of mission creep. She is brash, sarcastic, and reckless, but has oodles of passion and natural talent. DC editors hate her, so she ends up screwing up or getting pushed aside a lot, but she is much more competent than she appears and is extremely good at getting people to underestimate her.

Others

Kate Kane (Batwoman I): Kate Kane is Bruce’s cousin, dishonorably discharged from the military under “dont ask don’t tell,” though this has likely been retconned thanks to DC’s sliding timescale. She is actually specifically not connected to the Batfamily, being more of an auxiliary member by her own choice—as a military woman, she dislikes their methods and considers them sloppy. She uses guns, has her own rogues’ gallery unconnected to her cousin’s, and is extremely competent.

Jean-Paul Valley (Azrael I, Batman II): Jean-Paul believed himself to be an ordinary college student, but was in fact a genetically modified super-soldier created to punish the wicked through the use of magic and advanced technology. He eventually broke his conditioning thanks to Batman and joined the family, even taking over for Batman briefly after Bane broke his back. (This proved to be a terrible decision.) He fights using powered armor and enchanted medieval weaponry.

Harper Row (Bluebird I): I know very little about Harper except that she is openly bisexual and uses hilariously oversized sci-fi guns.

Claire Clover (Gotham Girl I): a metahuman with Superman-like abilities; however, the more she uses them, the faster her lifespan burns away. Last I checked, she was working with Bane for some reason to do bad things to Batman. Don’t know why. She’s odd.

Lonnie Machin (Anarky I, Moneyspider I): may or may not be the son of The Joker. Lonnie is a genius Anarchist, but not of the “bomb-throwing” variety—in fact, he detests bombers. Briefly acted as Tim’s Oracle, since, thanks to extensive neurological self-modification, he’s one of the few people in Gotham who is actually more intelligent than Tim is.

Helena Bertinelli (Huntress II, Batgirl briefly I think?): daughter of a crime family that got wiped out by a rival crime family. However, she didn’t know her family was mafia, and as a vigilante in Gotham ended up trying to operate under Batman’s rules. Wasn’t very good at that—she’s a bit too vicious and brutal, despite her attempts to rein herself in. Uses crossbows primarily.

Elseworlds & Future

Terry McGinnis (Batman Beyond I): the definitive future Batman. Thanks to Amanda Waller and superscience shenanigans, Terry is the biological son of Bruce Wayne. He wears a highly advanced batsuit that is closer to powered armor than a costume, which gives Iron Man a run for his money. Unlike Bruce’s obsessive preparedness, Terry’s skillset lies in improvisation.

Carrie Kelley (Robin II.5): the Robin of the dystopian timeline of The Dark Knight Returns. It’s been a while since I read DKR, so I don’t remember much about her.

Helena Wayne (Batgirl I.5, Huntress I): Bruce and Selina’s daughter from another dimension.

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zzozoa · 3 years

Photo

ARC HEADCANONS : gonzo, of the lost revenge

PRE-D1 / ARC I, BITE THE HAND THAT FEEDS : Gonzo has been a proud and dedicated crewmate of the Lost Revenge for over three years and is loyal to his Captain and crew to a fault. When he is not actively working alongside Uma and the rest of the crew, he is operating out of the Blacksmith forge and has been under the tutelage of the Isle Blacksmith, Reeva since she rescued him from the Horned King's dungeon.

Tensions are building between the pirates and Maleficent's posse and allies. Gonzo and the crew have had multiple encounters which have all exclusively turned into open conflict and violent skirmishes. Gonzo works closely with the crew to destabilize Maleficent's territory by targeting supply routes, hitting dead drops and harrassing those loyal to Maleficent.

Gonzo is also struggling to break away completely from the Horned King, as Creeper and the Horned King's Gwythaints have been spotted lurking around the forge.

D1 / ARC II, LIGHT THE MATCH & IGNITE : A temporary ceasefire over all factionwide hostilities is declared across the Isle as Mal, Evie, Jay and Carlos are invited by Prince Ben to attend Auradon Prep. Men, women, children of both first and second generation begin to prepare for an invasion into Auradon after Maleficent's promises that her daughter would destroy the barrier and free them all.

Hungry for the chance of freedom, Gonzo works tirelessly crafting, upgrading and mending the weapons of the crew in the forge as well as crafting light armor plating for several Cauldron Born who intend to act as the Isle's vanguard.

The Isle is apprehensive and tensions are high. As Prince Ben attends his coronation, and Maleficent escapes through a tear in the barrier, the Isle streets flood with both factionless and factioned, gathering at the bridge in the hope of being the first to leave the island.

However, the barrier is not destroyed and all those at the bridge bear witness to the Auradon celebrations of Maleficent's defeat. With nowhere to go, and no one to blame, fear and rage instigates riots in the streets which spread across the island. Gonzo and the crew rally to Uma as they fight for their lives.

POST-D1 / ARC III, OPEN YOUR MOUTH & CONSUME : Gonzo suffers a near fatal injury during the Coronation Riots, that lasted for two days and two nights. While he successfully managed to cut off access to the docks, he was impaled on the blade of a rioter and taken to Dr. Facilier's arcade that had been made into a temporary first aid station for the wounded and the dying. Gonzo was nursed by the crew's surgeon, Noelani, but his life hung at death's door for several days due to loss of blood, immense pain and the threat of infection.

Gonzo remained bedridden in the arcade for over a week before Noelani finally declared him well enough to be moved. He was taken aboard the Lost Revenge, where Noelani overlooked his recovery. After three weeks, he was able to leave the surgeon's room. After four, he was able to return to light deck duty and after eight he was well enough to return to heavy deck duty, the forge and resume his combat training.

Once he was able, Gonzo joined in aiding in the expansion of Uma's territory. Claiming the majority of what had once been Maleficent or Mal's.

D2 / ARC IV, IT’S OUR TIME TO RISE UP : Fully recovered from the injuries sustained during the Coronation Riots, Gonzo is an active member of the Lost Revenge crew's Vanguard, acting primarily as combat support and as a street scrapper during open conflicts with rival factions or enemies.

Gonzo works closely with Harry and Gil in maintaining and holding Uma's territory as well as mastering his skill in the blacksmith forge. Reeva has taught Gonzo almost everything she knows about how to bend metal and iron to their will and Gonzo has proved himself to be an exceptionally gifted and creative innovator. Creating metalwork automen, figurines and mobile prosthetics as well as puzzle boxes, vaults and intricately designed clock faces and compasses.

Later, Gonzo aids in the abduction of King Ben, and leads the first watch over the King's imprisonment aboard the Lost Revenge and fights against Mal and her allies when they break their deal.

POST-D2 / ARC V, THIS CUTS DEEPER THAN ANY KNIFE : Following Uma's failed attempt to bring the barrier down, riots once again spread throughout the streets of the Isle, however, these riots are far more devastating. Lasting for four days and four nights, the rage of the island spreads and all are swept up within the frenzy of it. Gonzo fights alongside Harry and the rest of the crew to beat back rioters, looters and instigators from Uma's territory and carve out a safe zone for themselves as well as any that pledged loyalty to Uma and the crew.

As the riots finally died upon the morning of the fourth night, Gonzo, along with the rest of the crew, voted Harry in as their Captain until Uma's return. As the Isle agrees to a temporary ceasefire to rebuild, Gonzo discovers that Reeva, his mentor and mother figure, was killed during the Cotillion Riots.

Gonzo is devastated and near inconsolable, throwing himself into his duty as a crewmate. It takes almost two years before Gonzo reconciles Reeva's death and reopens the forge that Reeva left to him.

D3 / ARC VI, THIS IS THE LINE THAT WE HOLD : Gonzo has reopened the blacksmith forge, with the opening hours between 8AM and 1PM, allowing him to continue as an active member of the Lost Revenge crew from 2PM onwards. Gonzo manages his time efficiently and is incredibly selective on his clientele, crafting primarily for the Pirates of the Isle and the Cauldron Born. He monitors his buyers obsessively in order to keep track of who is ordering what and is an invaluable resource to the Isle itself.

Gonzo is among those that helps steal the bikes from Mal and her allies, and follows Harry's orders of Jonas becoming temporary Captain of the Lost Revenge when he and Gil escape the Isle. While Auradon suffers at the hands of Audrey, Gonzo and the crew face multiple attacks from rival factions and crews believing the crew to be vulnerable without their Captain and Quartermaster. However, under Jonas' leadership, they beat back their enemies and reunite with Uma, Harry and Gil in full control of their territory.

POST-D3 / ARC VII, HEART OF THE ROTTING KING : After discovering Reeva's prototype designs for advanced prosthetics, Gonzo agrees to attend Auradon Prep for his final year of schooling. He chooses to study mechanical engineering as well as take several classes on biology and physiology and begins building and perfecting Reeva's original designs for advanced prosthetics.

However, as Gonzo finds himself free of the barrier, he begins to experience sudden and prolonged blackouts, losing time and failing to recall his own actions. He begins experiencing crippling migraines, intense and vivid hallucinations, and finds himself capable of extreme and inhuman feats of strength, athleticism and agility.

Things come to a tipping point when Gonzo is cornered by a group of Auradonians who despise Isle Borns. Gonzo lashes out and brutally attacks the group of Auradonians and would have killed them if Uma had not stepped in to stop him. Gonzo just barely manages to break free of the black out and passes out shortly thereafter.

Upon waking, Gonzo is forced to reveal what he has been experiencing since being freed from the barrier. With help, Gonzo uncovers the truth of his origins, that he holds within himself a piece of the Chernabog’s soul and that the Horned King has been attempting to possess his mind and body.

Gonzo must face the Horned King to break himself free from his control once and for all and along the way, discover the truth of his true identity and the identity of the other Chernabog vessels.

POST-D3 / ARC VIII, HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS : With the Horned King defeated, Gonzo finds himself swept up in another dangerous game against a far more dangerous adversary as the Chernabog’s main body begins to take shape once more. Gonzo, and his fellow Chernabog vessel’s find themselves being called towards the Chernabog as it attempts to reform and repair it’s fractured powers by devouring its pieces that it had scattered across the Isle.

Unwilling to allow themselves to be devoured and lose the lives that they now had for themselves, Gonzo and the others set out to trap the Chernabog while it is within its weakened state and to consume it in order to become truly free of its influence once and for all.

It is during the final confrontation against the Chernabog that Gonzo finally and truly unleashes the full power of his abilities. Uncovering that he has fed upon conflict and discord as a passive ability until the barrier’s fall, Gonzo and the other vessel’s are able to overpower the Chernabog and in a haze, devour his remains.

Gonzo finds himself in full control of his new abilities and struggles to reconcile what he is and what it means.

POST-D3 / ARC IX, LET THESE HANDS CREATE : Gonzo returns to school and finds himself on the receiving end of direct and indirect opposition to his presence in Auradon as his powers often cause others to become irritable, suspicious and highly confrontational and any negative thoughts and feelings are made manifest. Gonzo, as an Isle Born and being easily distinguished as such, causes him to be made the target of many anti-Isle Born propaganda and arguments which cause Gonzo to lash out with violence often.

Gonzo is regretfully expelled from Auradon Prep following one of his many fights and later enrols into Auradon City High School where his treatment isn't that much better. Gonzo struggles immensely with controlling his powers and abilities and finds himself relying upon his sibling vessels to learn how to maintain a normal life without his powers taking control of him.

It takes a lot of effort for Gonzo to graduate high school, and rather than attend university, Gonzo returns to the Isle where he creates his first fully autonomous prosthetic pieces.

Gonzo continues working as a master Blacksmith but is most known for his autonomous prosthetics and metalwork guardians. He still considers himself a member of the Lost Revenge crew, and has become extremely close to his vessel siblings.

#〤 — show me what it means to belong. 「 meta. 」#〤 — bite the hand that feeds. 「 arc i. 」#〤 — light the match & ignite. 「 arc ii. 」#〤 — open your mouth & consume. 「 arc iii. 」#〤 — it’s our time to rise up. 「 arc iv. 」#〤 — this cuts deeper than any knife. 「 arc v. 」#〤 — this is the line that we hold. 「 arc vi. 」#〤 — heart of the rotting king. 「 arc vii. 」#〤 — home is where the heart is. 「 arc viii. 」#〤 — let these hands create. 「 arc xi. 」

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chipper9906 · 3 years

Text

Bound To You - Chapter 3: Internal Talks

<--- Previous Chapter

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 15

NOTE: Pairings and Ratings Will Change As Story Is Updated

Pairings: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester

Rating: General Audiences

Chapter Word Count: 6,133

Overall Word Count: 17,730

Status: Multi Chapter Fic - In Progress (3/?)

Chapter Preview:

“You know, just once it’d be nice for the Universe not to screw us over. You’d think we’d earned a break by now-,”

Dean was interrupted by a splash of holy water hitting his face, about half of it getting into his mouth. He scrunched his eyes shut against the onslaught of water, swinging his mouth closed and leaning his head to the side to spit the holy water onto the floor.

“Fair enough…” Dean mumbled, pulling up the bedsheets and drying off his face. “Pretty sure soaking a cripple on his first day earns you a one-way ticket to Hell, Sammy.”

Link To Fic

Click Below To Keep Reading

Character Key For Telepathic Conversations

'Italic Text' - Castiel

'Bold Text' - Dean

* * *

Seeing his older brother like this was heart-breaking.

They had both had their fair share of injuries. A few stints in hospitals across the country over the years. Of course, the introduction of Castiel into their lives had dramatically reduced those visits, having their own personal angel who was willing to heal up any scrape or… potentially life-threatening injuries.

Dean had always been a pillar of strength in his life. Only in rare times did he ever see his brother look so broken, so dependant on another. Now, seeing his frail body in this hospital bed, surrounded by multiple beeping machines with countless wires coming out of him… it was a sight he almost couldn’t bear to see.

Eileen’s gentle touch on his shoulder pulled his gaze away from Dean. He turned on the uncomfortable plastic chair to face her, giving her an appreciative smile as she handed him yet another cup of coffee.

“Are you sure you don’t want to try and get some sleep?” Eileen asked him, rubbing her hand across his back soothingly. “I can stay here and watch over him.”

“I’m okay,” Sam brushed off her concern, though made sure to brush her arm by his back to show his thanks for her worry. “I don’t want to leave him yet… I’ll have to get back to the bunker soon anyway to pick up some stuff for him. Ah, and... I’ll have to try and find a pet-friendly motel nearby…”

Eileen’s hand paused on his back. “…Why?”

“Oh, right, I forgot to tell you,” Sam said with an amused huff. “We, uh- Dean actually found this dog after… after Chuck wiped everyone off the board. She got wiped away too shortly after because Chuck… well, he’s Chuck. She was brought back when everyone else got brought back and… Dean couldn’t leave her there.”

“Didn’t you say Dean wasn’t really a fan of dogs?”

“I think Miracles an exception. Don’t tell him I said this, but… I think Miracle is the only thing keeping Dean together after what happened to Cas. He’s not doing great even with her, but if she wasn’t here with us…” Sam closed his eyes, shaking his head as the awful memories flooded back. “You didn’t see him when Cas died right as Jack was being born. Mom was gone, and we had to see Lucifer shove that angel blade right through Cas, and… he couldn’t move. He dropped down by Cas’s side, and… He wasn’t the same until Jack brought Cas back. It was scary to see him that way. The anger I could deal with, you know? It was how Dean coped, finding something to blame, and… he directed all that at Jack. But when he wasn’t angry… it was like a part of him died with Cas. Like he wanted to just… give up.”

“They really mean a lot to each other, don’t they?” Eileen said wistfully.

“You have no idea,” Sam chuckled. “According to Cas, he and Dean ‘share a more profound bond’.”

“A what?”

“Cas’s words, not mine,” Sam raised his hands in the air with another short burst of laughter. “I assumed it was because Cas rescued Dean from hell, but Cas did the same for me and we never formed a ‘profound bond’ like Cas has with Dean.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you sound jealous,” Eileen teased him, giving his shoulder a light squeeze with a playful smile.

"Oh, trust me – I’m glad Cas directed most of his attention towards Dean. Do you have any idea the number of times I’ve been caught in the middle of the conversation between the two of them with just their eyes? Cas got better over time, but the staring? He was always kind of awkward with stuff like that, but with Dean… they somehow managed to talk to each other entirely with looks.”

“It makes sense,” Eileen noted. “Cas probably learned a lot about humans from Dean. He’s probably able to get a better read from Dean on how he feels by looking at him than just listening to him. I know I haven’t known Dean as long as you guys have, but I get the feeling Dean isn’t the kind of guy to tell the truth when it comes to how he feels?”

“It’s a rare occasion…” Sam mumbles. “I made the mistake of asking him what actually happened to Cas. He told me and Jack that Cas died to save him, but that was it. I know it’s painful for Dean, but… I miss Cas too… He’s one of my oldest friends, and I don’t even know how he died.”

“What happened when you asked?” Eileen pried.

“Just repeated what he told me before. Said ‘Cas saved my life, Sammy. That’s all you need to know’. Next morning, I found him slumped over the library table with books about the afterlife splayed about the place and an empty bottle of scotch in his hands.”

“Afterlife? You think he was trying to find a way to get Cas out of the Empty?”

“Must have been. I’d done the same… but there’s barely anything about the Empty in any of the documents the Men of Letter’s keep. It’s been so unknown for so long there’s just… nothing about it anywhere.” Sam told her, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice.

“Hm… I know if our roles were swapped, and it was you trapped in that place? I don’t think I’d be coping much better than Dean is.”

Something about the sentiment behind Eileen’s words sparked a realization within Sam’s mind. His gaze switched from Eileen to his brother, his face slipping into an expression of pity as all the strange moments between his best friend and his brother connected in his mind. “Oh, Dean… you’re never going to get over him, are you?”

“No, he won’t,” Eileen said, her words getting Sam to turn and face her again. “What Dean’s lost… you never really get over it. The pain never truly lessens, but… you get used to it.”

* * *

Sam had been slumped over in his chair, dead to the world when he was woken abruptly by Eileen roughly shoving his shoulder.

“Sam!” She called his name urgently. “Sam, it’s Dean! I think he’s waking up.”

Sam snapped back into consciousness at that, blinking rapidly to adjust to the bright lights of the hospital room. His gaze landed on Dean’s form, his breath hitching in surprise as Dean’s eyes flutter open. He sees the moment Dean truly comes to, eyes widening in panic at the unfamiliar surroundings. Dean raises his hand to his nose immediately, very nearly tugging out the IV line in his hand as he attempted to remove the nasal cannula wrapped around his face.

The doctor from before was by Dean’s bedside before Sam could even fully stand from his chair, who was forced to stand awkwardly behind the Doctor as he looked over Dean.

“Mr. Winchester? I’m Dr. Sullivan, I’m a surgeon here at Aultman Hospital in Canton, Ohio,” Dr. Sullivan told Dean as he gently pried Dean’s hands away from the fragile medical equipment. “Do you understand what I’ve told you so far?”

Dean’s panicked eyes fixated on Dr. Sullivan, giving a quick nod of his head at the doctor's question.

“Where’s Sammy?” Were the first words Dean croaked out.

“Your brother is right here, Mr. Winchester,” The doctor stepped off to the side, placing Sam into Dean’s line of vision. The panic visibly dropped away from Dean’s expression the second he caught sight of Sam. Then, Dean’s gaze slid over to where Eileen hovered nearby Sam, his face quickly twisting in confusion as he took her in.

“Now, I just need to perform a few quick checks on you, Mr. Winchester.” Dr. Sullivan continued on, not privy to the dumbfoundment Dean was currently trying to work through. “Can you tell me your name?”

“Dean,” Dean answered, knowing there was no point in giving a fake name seeing as the Doctor already knew his last time. “My name is Dean Winchester.”

“Fantastic,” Dr. Sullivan commented with an encouraging smile. “And we’ve already gathered that you know your brother and what his name is, so I guess we can skip that one. Do you remember what happened to you?”

Dean turned anxious eyes over to his brother. It was very unlikely that Sam told the Doctor what actually happened. Otherwise, the Doctor wouldn’t be holding together his professionalism quite as well as he is right now.

“I was attacked,” Dean went with something safe. “I… there was this metal bar… it went through me.”

“Good,” Dr. Sullivan said. Dean almost laughed. How was that good? “How do you feel?”

“Like I got impaled by a metal pole…” Dean responded dryly, wincing at the pulsating ache that sat within his back.

The Doctor cracked a sly smile at Dean’s comment, pulling a clipboard off the end of Dean’s bed. “Sense of humor’s good, a good way to cope. But to be more specific Mr. Winchester, I need you to rate your pain on a scale from one to ten. One being mild discomfort and ten being the worst.”

“Probably around a six,” Dean answered truthfully. Sure, the ache in his back was painful, but he knows it could be worse.

“Okay…” Dr. Sullivan mumbled under his breath as he scribbled away at his clipboard. “Your IV drip is attached to a steady supply of morphine right now; It should help to dull some of the more intense pain, but the effects may begin to wear off after some time. If the pain gets worse, let us know and we’ll up the dose for you.”

“Eh… I’ve been through worse, Doc.” Dean let his head drop back into the scratchy hospital pillow, closing his eyes against the bright ceiling lights.

“I’m not too sure I believe that Mr. Winchester. Though I can tell you you’re a lucky, lucky man.”

“Yeah? I don’t feel too lucky…”

“I’m not sure what else you’d call surviving a rebar to the chest other than ‘lucky’. How it missed all of your organs…” The doctor’s voice trailed off as he shifted off to a table to the side, plucking up a pair of latex gloves and snapping them on his hands. “Now, Mr. Winchester… during your surgery, we discovered some severe damage to your thoracic lumbar-,”

“My what?” Dean interrupted Dr. Sullivan.

“It’s the section of your spine just below your shoulder blades, running to the center of your back,” Dr. Sullivan answered. “When the rebar entered your back, it was forced in between two of your vertebrae. Those two were shattered, and a few above and below were fractured and pushed out of alignment. The damage to the vertebrae themselves, we were actually able to fix for the most part with the help of some titanium pins. Unfortunately, we noticed some evidence of trauma to your spinal cord.”

Sam’s heart twisted in sympathy at the way his brother's face fell. Perhaps Dean had been expecting to hear this, for he didn’t look shocked by the doctor’s words, but he most definitely looked crushed.

The doctor peeled back the sheets covering Dean, exposing his lower body to them. The doctor stepped down to the end of the bed, pressing a glove covered finger into the middle of the underside of Dean’s foot. “Can you feel this, Mr. Winchester?”

Dean couldn’t only weakly shake his head side to side, not trusting his voice to keep steady right now. He followed the doctor’s movement as he straightened back up, taking a step forward and placing a hand over Dean’s lower leg, giving his calf a gentle squeeze. “How about this?”

Again, Dean shakes his head no.

“Can you try moving your legs for me? Nothing too strenuous, just a small shift to the side will do.”

Dean stared down at his legs lying motionless on the hospital bed, certain he had never concentrated on a part of his body so hard in order to get it to move. But… no matter how hard he tries to get his legs to move… they don’t. Nothing happens, not even a twitch of his muscles. They just… lay there.

Dean doesn’t have to say anything for them to know he couldn’t do it. His face said it all.

“I’m going to touch your upper body now, okay Mr. Winchester? We just need to get an idea of where the paralysis starts.”

Paralysis. That single word bounced around in Dean’s skull. It… it couldn’t be possible. That happened to other people. It… it couldn’t happen to him, could it?

Dean’s thoughts are interrupted by the doctor’s prying fingers pressing against his ribs. Dean instinctively hisses at the pain – healed, but still sore- raising an arm to swat away the Doctor’s hand.

Wait a minute… He could feel that.

“Well, Mr. Winchester, it seems you are just full of surprises,” Dr. Sullivan said with a pleased smile. “We assumed that, with the damage, you would have lost all feeling below the injury. Seems like you still have some sensation of touch in your upper body, and we’ve already seen that you still retain full control of your arms. I think we’re well past calling you ‘lucky’. It’s a damn right miracle.”

“And what about my legs?” Dean couldn’t help but ask. “Will they… will they be like this forever? Could they heal?”

Doctor Sullivan sighed, peeling the gloves off his hands. “I want to be honest with you here; it’s very unlikely for you to regain feeling in your legs. I’m not one to say never however, and with the rapid advances of modern medicine, we really never know. But I also don’t want to give you false hope, Mr. Winchester.”

“So, this is it?” The defeated tone in Dean’s voice crumpled what was left of Sam’s strength. “I can’t walk?”

“For the time being… no. I’m sorry, Mr. Winchester. I truly am,” Dr. Sullivan shifted his sympathetic expression over to Sam and Eileen, giving them a respectful nod as he began shuffling over to the exit of the room. “I’ll be back later to run some more tests. I’ll give you three a moment.”

“Thanks, Doctor,” Sam just about got out before Dr. Sullivan slipped out of the room. Dean was staring dejectedly down at his legs, willing them to suddenly fix themselves and start moving again. Sam shot an anxious look over to Eileen, who looked torn between comforting Dean or comforting Sam.

“…You okay, Dean?” Sam asked, taking a few awkward steps closer to his brother’s side. The glare Dean shot up at him answered his question in more ways than words could. The glare quickly dropped from Dean’s face, crumpling in on himself, trying to hide away from his brother’s woeful gaze.

“I’ll be fine,” Dean assured them, putting on a clearly fake smile. “I’ll get used to it… ‘s gonna take some adjusting, is all.”

“Do you need anything?” Eileen offered timidly, hanging by Sam’s side. “Some water, maybe?”

“Could use a stiffer drink than that,” Dean joked. “Could also use an explanation as to how you’re here? You were gone when Chuck snapped everyone away.”

“Well…” Eileen said uncomfortably, sharing a worried look with Sam. “I don’t actually know…”

“It’s one of many things we’re trying to figure out. Shortly after I got you here, Eileen was dropped back where she was.” Sam said.

“What, two weeks after everyone came back?”

“Seems like it,” Sam said.

Dean leaned his head back, closing his eyes with an exasperated sigh. Sam took the opportunity of Dean averting his eyes to reach into his pocket, pulling out a metal flask and quietly unscrewing the lid.

“You know, just once it’d be nice for the Universe not to screw us over. You’d think we’d earned a break by now-,”

“Fair enough…” Dean mumbled, pulling up the bedsheets and drying off his face. “Pretty sure soaking a cripple on his first day earns you a one-way ticket to Hell, Sammy.”

Before Dean could crack another joke, Sam had slid the angel blade out of his pocket, advancing towards Dean. He could see the moment Dean recognized what was in his hands, eyes widening in alarm as Sam moved closer.

“Woah, Woah, wait – Sammy!”

Sam didn’t let him say anything else, He grabbed his brother by the arm, pulling it straight and slicing across the tender skin. To Sam’s horror, the cut that appeared quickly flared with a bluish light, stitching up the small gash instantaneously. Sam’s eyes flickered up to see that same blue light appear in Dean’s eyes, completely overtaking the green of his irises until all Sam could see was that dazzling blueish white light.

“Sam, stop!” Dean’s posture had changed completely. He had straightened up as much as his damaged spine would let him, his movements stiff and uncoordinated as he reached out a hand to stop Sam. His voice had dropped a few octaves, impossibly deep in tone to the point it sounded like Dean’s vocal cords were being shredded apart.

Sam pressed the angel that was possessing his brother into the bed with one hand on its shoulder, holding the angel blade against its neck. The thing using Dean’s eyes glances down anxiously to the blade, the angel’s hand on his arm insistently pushing him away. Eileen stood nearby, checking the door to make sure no one would come into the room.

“Stop cutting Dean,” The angel commanded urgently. “I don’t have enough grace left to keep healing him like this.”

“Which one are you?” Sam spat at him, pressing the blade even closer as a threat. “Why the hell are you possessing my brother?”

“To save his life,” The angel insisted. “And to save mine. Sam, it’s me. It’s Cas.”

Sam blinked in surprise, lessening the pressure on Dean’s neck without really thinking about it. “Cas? No, that’s… that’s not possible… Dean said, he… You’re dead.”

“And so was Eileen,” Castiel pointed out, giving a small nod of his head towards the woman in question, careful not to catch himself on the blade against his neck.

“I don’t believe you,” Sam said with a shake of his head. “You can’t be Cas. You just… you can’t be.”

“When we first met, Dean had to stop you from shooting me,” Castiel began, the statement catching Sam off guard. “You were rather star-struck upon meeting me; having been the first time you had met an angel. My opinion of you at the time was rather harsh: the boy with the demon blood. But Dean helped me to see you in a different light. In the way he sees you. It was enough for me to be willing to dive back into Hell and recover your soul after you sacrificed yourself for the world.”

Sam was frozen in place, gaze fixated on the eyes that were his brothers, but also weren’t.

“Once, years after meeting you, I realized just how similar we were. Our fear of failing those we love, of letting down those we lead. Our willingness to sacrifice ourselves for the ‘greater good’. You nearly got yourself killed trying to make things right, to track down Gadreel and bring him to justice. But I wouldn’t do what you asked. I had to make you see your life was more valuable than that.”

The blade slipped away from Cas’s neck, held loosely in Sam’s hand as he stared down at Dean Cas in disbelief. “…Cas?

Castiel visibly relaxed as the blade dropped away from his neck, giving Sam a firm nod in response. Sam stood agape for a few more seconds before throwing himself forward, wrapping an arm around the back of his neck and pulling Cas into an awkwardly angled hug. Sam knew it was definitely Cas when Dean’s hands come to rest at his back, giving Sam a few clumsy pats before committing to the hug and squeezing Sam closer.

Yep. That’s Cas, alright.

“How the hell are you alive?” Sam asked once they broke apart, glancing over to Eileen to gauge her reaction. Eileen was still stood by the door, looking unsure as to what she should do now. Sam tucked the angel blade back into his jacket, sitting back down in the chair next to Dean’s bed. “Dean said you were gone?”

“I was,” Cas answered. “I’m… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you or your brother. Dean knows now of course, but… I had made a deal.”

“What kind of deal?” Eileen asked warily from beside the door, eyes flickering between Sam and Castiel. “A demon deal?”

Castiel shook his head. “I have no soul to barter with a Demon, so, no. This was shortly after Jack had succumbed to his illness, you see. When I found him in Heaven, we were being chased by the Empty.”

“The Empty can get into Heaven?” Sam asked.

“Apparently so. It believed that, since Jack was part angel, he belonged to the Empty after death. However, Heaven had already claimed Jack, because of his soul. I didn’t have a choice, Sam. I offered myself up to the Empty in exchange for Jack’s life. The Empty took that deal.”

“But… it’s been over a year since we lost Jack,” Sam questioned, brows furrowing in his confusion. “Why hadn’t the Empty taken you? Why now?”

Castiel tore his gaze away from Sam, looking at anything in the room other than the two pairs of peering eyes. “The Empty added an extra part to our deal. It would only take me… once I experienced a moment of true happiness.”

Sam glanced over to Eileen at this, matching expressions of wonder on their faces. It was rare to see Castiel this uncomfortable during a conversation.

“Billie was dying, and she wanted to take me and Dean with her,” Castiel continued before Sam could add anything. “Dean and I had barely just escaped her for the moment, but I could only buy us a few extra minutes before she got to us. So… I did the only thing I could. I summoned the Empty by fulfilling our deal, and it took Billie with me.”

“And… you fulfilled your deal by… experiencing a moment of true happiness?” Sam timidly asked.

“Yes,” Castiel was still refusing to meet Sam’s gaze, staring down at his hands in his lap.

“…You’re not going to tell me what that was, are you?”

“No.”

Castiel’s answer wasn’t all too surprising to Sam. While it was true that Castiel had opened up to him more over the years they’ve known each other, he was still quite reserved when it came to these kinds of things. Probably something he picked up from Dean… And yet, Castiel’s hesitation actually gave away more than he was probably intending to. A moment of true happiness. Castiel had managed to experience a moment of true happiness – with Dean. And now, as Sam thinks to the extra bottles of beer he found lying around the Bunker, and Dean’s sudden urge to be all cuddly with Miracle… he’s beginning to understand why Dean had been mourning Cas just a little differently than he had last time.

“Cas… if the deal was fulfilled, then… how did you get out?” Sam asked.

Castiel was grateful for the subject change, some of the tension in his posture slipping away. “Your brother, I believe. When Dean was… when he was dying, he began praying to me.”

“He reached you in the Empty?” Eileen asked, voice alight with incredulity.

“Dean and I… our bond is rare. There aren’t many angels that know humans on a personal level. Most prayers to angels are of the common ones we get: asking for help, for guidance, for a show of faith. They’re rarely ever directed at those individual angels. And they’re never usually packed with so much emotion. Especially not… not…”

“Not what?” Sam pressed on.

“Those emotions aren’t typically for that angel. Jack was able to reach me in the Empty with a combination of his powers, and his desire to have me back. Dean was able to reach me through his fear of death, his desperation to have someone save him… and his longing to see me again.”

Sam didn’t really know how he was supposed to respond to that. This was a conversation about his brother that seemed a bit more… intimate than he’s comfortable with. Especially when he knows Dean is sat somewhere within his own body, perhaps even listening into their conversation right now.

“Wow… Uh, I mean - - I’m still a little shell shocked at the minute… Don’t get me wrong, I’m… I’m thrilled to have you back, Cas. I missed you. You and Jack. Except, at least with Jack I knew he was still here, but… you were dead, and Dean wouldn’t talk to me about it, and… it’s all been a bit much.”

“I can imagine,” Castiel said with an understanding smile.

“What’s the deal with… you know-” Sam gestured to Dean’s body. “-This. Why are you possessing Dean? What happened to your body?”

Castiel opened his mouth to answer when an odd look twisted across his features. It almost looked like he was trying to listen for something, his eyes dull and unfocused.

“Uh… Cas?” Sam asked, snapping his fingers in front of Cas’s face. “You there, man?”

“Yes,” Castiel answered, a bit more clarity coming into his eyes. “Apologies, but Dean is getting rather uncomfortable being ‘forced into the passenger’s seat’.” Castiel raised his hands to place quotation marks over the words.

“Okay… what does that-,”

Dean’s body straightened up again, eyes flashing with angelic grace before returning to the usual soft green eyes of his brother. Dean blinked in a daze as he came back into his own body, giving a little shiver to try and clear the odd feeling.

“Man, that’s gonna take some getting used to,” Dean muttered, his voice raised back to his usual tone. “I’m kinda glad Michael placed me into that fake dream world while he was possessing me…”

“You say that like this isn’t going to be temporary…” Sam noted.

“For the time being… this is all we’ve got,” Dean replied with a shrug of his shoulders. “Cas is too weak to jump into another vessel after using up nearly all his grace to keep my dumb ass from dying. So yeah, for the time being, Cas is shacking up in my head.”

“For how long?”

“No idea. Current plan of action is to find a way to recreate his body again.”

“Recreate?” Eileen spluttered, interjecting into the brother’s conversation.

“Doesn’t sound easy, does it?” Dean replied gloomily. “The Empty pretty much deleted Cas’s body when it took him. No way of getting it back…”

“Well, what about his grace?” Sam threw out the suggestion. “Isn’t there a way we can ‘recharge’ it back to normal levels?”

‘Not without potentially throwing Heaven into chaos, no.’

Dean startled so harshly at the voice in his head that it got Sam to his feet in seconds, ready to sprint out of the room and find a Doctor in the fear that his brother was having some sort of seizure.

“Jesus, Cas!” Dean spoke out loud to the room, only confusing Sam and Eileen more. “How the hell did you do that?”

‘Do what? Talk to you? Like this.’

‘Yeah, but you’re talking in my head.’

‘As are you.’

‘What?’

‘You’re not speaking out loud, Dean. Only I can hear you when we talk like this.’

“Dean!”

Dean snapped back to reality at his brother’s distraught voice. Sam was shaking his shoulder whilst Eileen had seemingly teleported to his side, an equally anxious look on her face.

“What the hell was that, Dean?” Sam demanded. “You just zoned out on us!”

‘You’ll have to work on diverting your attention between what’s happening and what I’m saying, or you might freak out the doctors and we’ll have to stay in the hospital longer.’

“Whoa…” Dean exclaimed, raising a hand to his head. “This is weird…”

“What’s weird?” Sam asked, voice growing more agitated at Dean’s elusiveness.

“Me and Cas have got this weird Vulcan mind mend thing going on,” Dean answered, tapping at his head. “He’s talking in my head; and apparently… I can talk back to him too?”

“Uh… you sure you didn’t… imagine it?” Sam asked.

‘I can assure you Dean that you aren’t suffering from any brain damage that would lead to hallucinations of my voice.’

“Cas says I’m not crazy, so yeah - I’m pretty sure, Sammy,” Dean answered, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Oh, does that mean Cas can hear and see everything you’re seeing?” Eileen sounded genuinely fascinated by all of this.

‘Yes, so long as you want me to, Dean. With enough effort, you would be able to block me out. Although, at my currently weakened state, it likely wouldn’t take much effort at all.’

‘Nah, I wouldn’t do that to you, Cas. Makes it easier this way anyway – you could probably point out stuff I don’t usually pick up on. And this way, you can still be part of the conversation; though guess I have to be your translator to pass on the message.’

‘Thank you, Dean… Eileen and Sam are looking worried again, you might want to refocus yourself.’

Sure enough, when Dean focused back into reality, Sam looked about ready to slap him back into the conversation. “Sorry, I promise I’ll get better at listening to Cas and talking at the same time. And yeah, Cas says he can hear and see everything I do.”

‘With your permission.’

“With my permission,” Dean adds.

“Huh… must be weird for Cas to be possessing you.”

“Why’s that?” Dean asked with a questioning frown.

“Well – I assume you’re the one that’s going to be in control most of the time, right?”

“That’s the plan, yeah,” Dean answered.

“Then it’s probably going to be weird having it the other way around.”

‘I have experienced this before when Lucifer was possessing me. You are a much better companion than Lucifer, Dean, so it’s not too weird.’

‘Is that a compliment? I’m assuming it’s a compliment. Doubt it takes much to be a better companion than freakin’ Lucifer, though.’

‘I suppose not. But there’s no other human I would want to share a body with than you, Dean.’

“Alright, Cas is getting weird so I’m going to cut him off,” Dean told them with a strained smile. “Cas said he’s cool with it.”

“Uh-huh… That all he said?” Sam pressed his brother for more.

“Hey, I’ll tell you everything Cas directs to you. Everything Cas says to me, is my business.”

The corner of Sam’s mouth twitched as he fought hard to keep his laughter from bubbling out. “Dean, that… you’ve got to realize how that just sounded.”

‘I don’t understand… how did it sound?’

‘Sammy probably thinks you’re talking dirty to me in my head.’

‘Oh… I’m… not?’

‘I know you’re not, Cas. Sam’s just being nosy.’

“Good job, Sam. You embarrassed Cas,” Dean scolded him.

“I didn’t say anything!”

“Yeah, but you implied something, and it made Cas uncomfortable.”

‘Maybe it would be best if I left for a bit…’

‘What? No, Cas – you don’t have to do that. I’ll change the subject.’

“I made Cas uncomfortable? You sure it’s not you that’s uncomfortable?” Sam continued to tease.

“Whatever you say, Sammy,” Dean conceded with hands raised in the air.

“Isn’t there more important things we should be talking about?” Eileen cut into their childish sibling argument. “We still don’t know what brought me back, or why. And rebuilding Cas’s body? Do we even know if that’s possible?”

“We won’t know until we look into it further,” Dean answered, turning cautious eyes over to the door, unsure as to whether the footsteps he heard were heading towards their room. “And we can’t do that until we get back home to the bunker…”

‘Dean… I think the doctors are going to want to keep you in the hospital for a few more days… And I’m inclined to agree with them.’

‘What? I feel fine-,’

‘We’re sharing a body, Dean. I know you’re not ‘fine’. You only feel fine for the moment because of the painkillers you’re on. You need a few extra days for your body to heal and adjust to its alterations.’

‘If the only problem is me handling pain, I can assure you I can do that from the bunker, Cas.’

‘It’s not just that, Dean. I… I can’t heal you anymore. At all. If something were to go wrong, if you re-damaged your back and began bleeding internally… there’s nothing I could do. Please, just… a few extra days here is all I ask.’

‘Dammit… Alright, fine, Cas. Only because you asked so nicely…’

Dean decided not to add his crippling fear of what would happen to Cas if something happened to him.

’Thank you, Dean.’

‘Yeah, yeah… Besides, it’s not like we have to worry about a time limit this go around. You’re good so long as you don’t use any of your grace, right?’

‘Oh, um… yes. Yes, I should be fine if I don’t use any.’

“Alright, clearly you and Cas want some alone time,” Sam teased Dean mercilessly, giving Dean’s leg a light slap as he stood from the chair.

“What? No! That’s not-,”

“I’m joking, Dean,” Sam said with a smile, much too pleased with himself for Dean’s liking. “I need to go talk to the doctor about how long they think you need to stay… Then I really need to head back to the bunker and check up on Miracle; find a place that’ll take her while we’re here.”

“Oh, I see. The dog’s more important than your poor injured brother, huh?”

“Don’t pretend like you wouldn’t kick my ass for leaving her there alone.”

“You two have a very weird sibling dynamic…” Eileen said with a shake of her head.

‘Can you tell Eileen I couldn’t agree with her more?’

‘Don’t you start sassing me in my head, Cas.’

“Cas said he agrees with you…” Dean mumbled dejectedly, passing on Cas’s message. Sam embarrassingly signed the message to Eileen who couldn’t make out Dean’s mumbles, cracking into laughter at the two brother’s shame at being called out.

“You want me to pick up anything from the bunker while I’m there?” Sam asked over the last of Eileen’s giggles. “Some books, maybe?”

“Could use my laptop for research – and no, not the ‘sexy’ type of research, before you say it.”

‘Sexy research?’

‘Porn, Cas. Porn.’

‘Oh… Um, if you could warn me in advance before you watch such content, I’ll put myself to sleep-,’

‘Stop talking, Cas. Stop talking right now.’

Dean already knew his face was burning a bright red. Sam and Eileen’s questioning looks were enough evidence of that

“…Laptop, got it,” Sam said after quite the gap in their conversation. “Uh… anything else?”

“A new change of clothes for when I get out of here… Don’t really fancy struggling out of here in this hospital gown with my ass hanging out in the wind.”

“You could have stopped at the first sentence. I really didn’t need that image in my head.” Sam said, face scrunching with disgust as he pulled the Impala’s keys out of his jacket pocket. “You gonna be okay here on your own for the night?”

“I’m not on my own. I’ve got Cas, remember?” Dean said, a smile creeping onto his face at the thought. Sam rolled his eyes as he turned away – for what reason Dean didn’t want to think about – gesturing with head to Eileen to follow him out of the room.

‘Ain’t that right, Cas? You’ll keep me company for the night, won’t you?’

The silence Dean got from his head was enough for the light-hearted smile on his face to slip away.

‘…Cas?’

‘You told me to stop talking.’

Dean snorted out loud, the sound catching Sam and Eileen off guard just before they stepped out from the room, sharing knowing looks and sly smiles with one another.

‘Damn… You have no idea how much I missed you, Cas.’

* * *

Next Chapter --->

#destiel fanfiction #Destiel #Destiel fanfic #destiel fic #Dean Winchester/Castiel #castiel/dean winchester #castiel/dean #CasDean #fix it #fix it fic #supernatural spoilers #fluff #angst

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thislife-onwheels · 4 years

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What It’s Like When Your Medical PTSD Becomes Reality

I wish I were making this up.

I wrote previously about my medical PTSD, crippling flashbacks, and other symptoms. Shockingly, it resonated with hundreds, if not thousands, of people who said that although their physical diagnoses were different, the mental scars of post-traumatic stress disorder that remained were a common thread. I struggled with right along with the strangers who read my words, and prepared my body and mind for one of the scariest surgeries I've ever had: my second baclofen pump placement for secondary dystonia associated with cerebral palsy. The surgery, one that works well for the vast majority of people, appeared a success. I responded well to the intrathecal therapy, and after close monitoring and a week in the hospital, I was sent home.

Mentally, however, I was in a different place entirely. Throughout my hospital stay and my time at home during recovery, I was in a dissociative state. Moreover, I couldn’t look down at my lower left abdomen where the hockey puck shaped internal drug pump lay. As a child, it stuck out of my skin quite significantly, leaving me in fear of myself. When I went on to overdose, there was a very real and palpable fear among not just myself, but my family and doctors, that it would kill me. This impacted me so deeply that I was working through exposure therapy to be able to look at the second pump, still sticking out of my skin, with my therapist—even if only for a few short seconds.

Eight days after my discharge from the hospital, my worst fears became reality.

"Everything is fine; don't panic," I told myself, pushing away racing thoughts as nothing more than anxiety while my legs visibly spasmed in my bathtub. I have an incredibly high threshold for pain and spells that make my body contort for hours with even the slightest of movements were a common occurrence prior to surgery. Despite the fact that this surgery was done to prevent this type of pain from occurring, I thought this spell would pass, like all the ones before it.

Needless to say, that's not what happened.

After an hour of agony and dystonic movements so severe it began to physically interfere with the ability of others to care for me, I broke down and called my hospital, barely able to get words out due to the sheer amount of pain my body was in. Speaking to the nurse that handles urgent patient needs, I told her that I had just been discharged from the hospital for pump placement the week before, in addition to the unbearable pain that was getting progressively worse.

"You don't sound good," she said. "I'm transferring you to the doctor."

My heart dropped. I held onto a sliver of hope and said a prayer.

When he answered, he told me to take my oral baclofen, and if I didn't see improvement in two hours, to come into the ER. I took my oral medication while a friend continued to pray for me.

An hour later, I was delirious; I blacked out in the car while my mother drove. When I got to the hospital, my mom proceeded to drive my power wheelchair through the emergency room, while I moaned, rocking back and forth.

Then, just like when I was a child and overdosing from the device, I fell into a coma. I woke up, but the days that followed were a mix of delirium, pain, multiple emergency surgeries, and darkness.

As it turns out, a spinal fluid leak--a complication from surgery that we tried to prevent by carefully monitoring my incisions for the previous two weeks, combined with E. coli bacteria--caused the pump, and my central nervous system, to become infected with E. coli bacterial meningitis. It's an infectious disease affecting the brain and spinal cord that can kill very quickly from the onset of symptoms.

Two weeks later, I was out of the ICU, but very, very weak, bed bound, and receiving daily IV antibiotics through my jugular vein. My PM&R physician came into my room on rounds, profusely offering her sympathies. "When I saw what happened," she said, softly, "My heart dropped into my stomach, because that's an infection that spreads fast. I don't know what your religious beliefs are..."

She trailed off.

To say my medical-induced PTSD has at times been overwhelming since this occurred four months ago is a massive understatement. One of the emergency surgeries was to remove the baclofen pump. I am now faced with the decision to have a third placed due to my pain from secondary dystonia and spasticity getting progressively worse; pain that can leave me incapacitated and that is triggered from speaking, swallowing, or even slightly contracting nearly any muscle.

Despite the fact that this is a planned two week admission to address a potential spinal fluid leak before it becomes infection, the scars--physical and mental--remain. More so than ever before, my brain views pumps as ticking time bombs, and my body remembers, too. The worst part about medical PTSD, for me, is the legitimate threat of past traumas reoccurring, over and over. Because my body and treatments are viewed by my brain as a threat, my traumas haunt my past, present, and even my future. However unlikely I am to have life-threatening complications from my next placement, my mind is always on alert, prepared to fight.

It is my ultimate wish for this type of PTSD to be more closely studied and taken seriously among researchers (I myself did a project on this as apart of my undergrad social work program). I believe this type of trauma is far more common and impactful than we currently know, among children and adults alike. All individuals who have these traumas deserve to have their fears validated, and treatment readily available. I’ll close once again with these final words.

If you’re experiencing these things, know this:

You’re real.

You’re valid.

I see you.

#Medical PTSD #Trauma #bacterial meningitis #baclofen pump #cerebral palsy #dystonia

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mwolf0epsilon · 5 years

Note

i just fond your blog and saw you like DBH and G/T and ive been dying for a cute g/t fic! Could you please do one with Markus if thats ok???

I’m really sorry this took so long Anon! Here’s some giant Markus goodness for the G/T side of the fandom! Had to get a bit creative but hey, that’s why we have Mad Scientist Vibes Mcgree (Young Kamski)!

Enjoy!

—

When Carl had gotten into his accident, a lot of things in his life had forcibly changed.

He couldn’t walk anymore (which was the major factor for these changes), he needed to take medicine to stop the pain that the doctors said would never go away (but might lessen with time and physiotherapy), had to quit some of his favorite hobbies (He couldn’t go skiing, swimming or sky-diving anymore) and, on top of the physical limitations that he had to get used to, Carl had lost all motivation to do anything.

He couldn’t bring himself to get out of bed most mornings, much less pick up a brush to take to a canvas.

His own home became a prison, the long curving stairwell a deathtrap for a handicapped man in a wheelchair. The members of the artistic community that he’d considered his peers had practically abandoned him and gone on to lick the boots of the next greatest deal, his relationships had shriveled away due to his terrible moods, and he’d lost himself to booze and cheap drug highs more times than he’d eaten in those first weeks of recovery and adjustment to his plight…

Carl was a mess, a depressed, bitter and angry unadjusted mess, and he practically exiled himself in his own home, resigned to wasting away alone and wallowing in his own misery.

It had felt like everything that made him who he was, had died with his ability to walk…

But of course, while the world was ready to give up on an a bitter old cripple, Elijah Kamski had believed Carl could get himself back together.

And, in believing so, he’d gone and done something truly insane to help push him towards the road of recovery.

Carl thought of Elijah as a very clever and ambitious young man. A crafty boy that was as cunning as they came, with a reputation for the dramatics that added a bit of flair to his eccentric personality.

Where others saw an excellent inventor with a few bizarre behaviours, Carl saw a well-meaning boy who went all out in his many personal plans and schemes. Someone who gave you half the puzzle so you could figure it out yourself, but who’d jump at the opportunity to give an answer to a friend if he trusted them enough. He was odd, a bit pretentious at times, but not as impossible to figure out as many people thought.

He’d left his own company around the same time of Carl’s accident, for various other reasons he assured, albeit also intending to take the time off to think on the incident itself and in what way he could help a dear friend in need.

The overall plan, however, was to isolate himself and think over a few things that had concerned him quite a bit over work ethic and corporational corruption.

Carl knew from a previous conversation that Elijah had taken with him the fruits of an ongoing and still fairly green project, intending to finish it himself rather than let the board of directors play around with such a delicate schematic.

He’d never asked Elijah what he’d do with it if he ever did finish it, but then again he should have expected the boy to reworked it into his grand scheme of “fixing his father-figure”.

Elijah was nowhere close to performing miracles yet, but Carl was sure he’d been trying fairly hard with something of the sort before settling in his final idea. Chloe had already come close enough to the boy playing god, and Carl was sure that, while the field of medicine could benefit from his younger friend’s work and ingenuity, he himself didn’t like the idea of having his legs chopped off and replaced with mechanical parts.

Prosthetics wouldn’t fix his ruined spine, wouldn’t make the pain and trauma go away, and he’d rather die than be a guinea pig to some scalpel-happy medical students.

Elijah knew this, so he did something else. Something bolder and very much batshit insane.

He was clever about it as well. He’d hid his real intentions behind simple visits, where he measured Carl’s chair multiple times, fixed issues he had with some of its mobility, installed railings and an assortment of contraptions to aid him around the house, and then finally brought him a robotic arm to serve as a moving platform to help with his larger paintings. All presents that Carl had frowned at and ignored besides the damn elevator and the wheelchair upgrade, since he needed those to get around the house.

And then, after several of these visits where he just observed and offered idle conversation, one day Elijah showed up with Chloe and his real present.

That was a day Carl would never forget…

Hard to, when a close friend of yours brought over a 50 foot tall android to serve as a household assistant.

It hadn’t been a particularly good day to begin with. His doctors had tried to send him another nurse who’d just gotten in the way.

She’d woken him up abruptly, insisted for him to eat despite him feeling nauseous from spending the night in a drunken stupor, hadn’t let him even watch the news in peace without blabbering on about how he’d organized his home or about his medication schedules.

And then of course, when she pointed out the taxidermied giraffe and commented on how “middle-ages” it was to have a dead animal decorating one’s house, he’d snapped.

The night before he’d had an argument over the phone with Adelaide, Leo’s mother.

They’d argued over him shutting them out after the accident, when he’d finally taken the steps to get to know his son.

Carl wasn’t proud of what he’d said, but he recalled laughing bitterly and saying an invalid man who can’t walk anymore, can’t really take any steps by himself.

She’d been furious at his self-deprecation. And then she’d exploded when he’d implied the situation was their fault to begin with.

Because, “had he not gone on the trip to begin with, he wouldn’t have ever gotten into the damn accident”.

Carl had been too drunk to think straight, spoke some things he really shouldn’t have, and in the end Adelaide had gotten fed up with him and hung up. He had a feeling she’d resent him for this major fuck up on his part.

The argument had left him in a sour mood, and the nurse criticizing his home and the things he’d been gifted with by friends?

It had struck a nerve and he’d become standoffish and defensive.

She’d stormed out after he’d told her off with some choice words, and then told her to tell his doctors to shove their stethoscopes so far up their own asses that they might actually hear their own stupidity.

It would have been funny really, if he hadn’t wanted a cup of tea afterwards to calm his fraying nerves.

That’s when Elijah decided to show up, in the middle of Carl cursing his stove for being too tall for him to properly use now that he couldn’t stand.

As upset as he was with his own handicap, Carl wasn’t one to give in very easily when he actually wanted something as mundane as a cup of hot tea. Earl grey, with a few almond cookies on the side to please his sweet tooth.

At the time, had he wanted to draw or paint or even play the piano as much as he’d wanted a hot beverage, he would have likely gotten it done much earlier without ever needing any help to begin with.

Considering the spell he’d put himself in however, how fervently he believed he was useless, Carl had made himself into exactly what he thought he was when it came to procuring inspiration, thus indulging in his interests was out of the picture for some time.

But that had all been forgotten while he tried to find a way around the stove’s height.

Kettle in one hand, his chin on the other, the artist considered his options.

And then the ground began to shake.

He didn’t notice at first, too engrossed with his dilemma, until the water in the kettle began to shift and slosh out onto the floor with a resounding splatter, and the wheels of his chair began to shudder against the breaks.

The shakes were rhythmic in nature, followed by thuds that were becoming as loud as thunder just as the intensity of the quaking began to make things rattle off the shelves.

Carl had gripped the chair’s armrests tightly as he looked around the kitchen, wincing as fine china slipped out of place and shattered on the floor. As the windows rattled violently against their frames, he wondered how any of this was possible, as never once had he suffered through an earthquake in this area of Michigan.

And then of course, the intense quakes came to a halt just as a deafening screech of metal met his ears.

The artist yelled in alarm as he peered out the window and saw something absolutely gargantuan crush the tall metal fencing in his yard. Had he just witnessed a goddamn meteor crash?!

Of course,being the overly-curious man that he was, Carl’s immediate reaction was not to call the authorities, but to leave the kitchen to investigate.

The old artist made his way outside by wheeling himself through the larger sliding-glass door, making use of the ramp that Elijah had helped set up in one of his many visits. He then carefully and clumsily maneuvered himself around the side of his home, trying to pick up speed while also trying not to knock himself out of balance in the process (he was still not very good at using it after all), and was quickly met by a dark shadow that was definitely not supposed to be there at noon. Whatever was currently in his property, was positively and tremendously big, enough so that it cast such an impressive shadow over the mansion.

What he wasn’t counting on seeing was that, what appeared to have obliterated his fence and part of his garden, was a pair of gigantic shoes…

Inside them, Carl assumed, were an equally gigantic pair of feet, connected to gigantic legs, that were connected to a gigantic torso, which itself had a pair of gigantic arms connected to them, as well as a gigantic head.

Did he mention how gigantic all of it was? Or how his body was instinctively trembling and screaming at him to seek shelter, as two large green eyes peered down at his own two widened blue eyes. He couldn’t quite discern any other facial features, as the rest were obscured by shade, but he could see a blazing yellow circle where he assumed the giant’s right temple might be.

There was a colossal android in his backyard. Carl was pretty sure this was a sign that he was probably going to die, until he heard two familiar voices up in the distance.

“Elijah…It appears the RK200 has effectively destroyed Mr. Manfred’s security system…” the soothing tone of the RT600, Elijah’s darling Chloe, stated calmly as she peered down from the shoulders of the giant she’d apparently hitched a ride on.

“I’m well aware Chloe.” Elijah Kamski, who stood on the other shoulder of the massive android, poked his head over to look down at the mess. “This wasn’t how I wanted to surprise Carl… My fault really, for letting our baby boy take his first steps out in the wild…”

“A flair for the dramatics may be your own undoing one day…” Chloe tutted disapprovingly before reaching up to the the giant, patting it under the chin. “Poor thing, this has been a positively mortifying experience for him…”

Carl stared up and up at the trio of “guests”, completely at a loss for words purely due to disbelief because, again, there was a GIANT android in his yard.

His fence had been obliterated, trampled by said android, and Elijah Kamski was behind it.

There was only one thing to do in such a situation.

“ELIJAH KAMSKI, YOU COME DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW YOUNG MAN AND EXPLAIN TO ME WHY THERE IS A BUILDING SIZED ANDROID RUINING MY BEGONIAS!”

“Busted…Fuck me, this has not gone according to plan” The inventor fumbled with his glasses and tried to hide under the collar of the colossus’s shirt to no avail. His fate as target for one of Carl’s lectures was set.

“I warned you he might have appreciated his gift coming in a box.” Chloe grinned at him, before waving in greeting at Carl. She didn’t seem too bothered with this outcome.

“You’re not helping Chloe…” the man sighed miserably as he stared down at the angry artist.

It ended with the colossal artificial being kneeling on the dirt (an action which made the ground shakes violently because of how huge it was) and then Chloe preparing tea for Carl and Elijah, which the two drank while conversing quietly. They occasionally peered upwards at Elijah’s newest creation.

With its face no longer obscured by the shadow it cast, Carl could finally see it’s features more clearly.

The android, despite it’s terrifying size, was not at all very imposing in appearance. If anything,it looked almost soft and approachable. Friendly even, if not for the limited amount of expressions on its face.

Tanned freckled skin, soft green eyes, hair shaved short, and a sort of inquisitive look to it’s posture which was apparently it’s most basic model of being. Curious about everything and their conversation.

The uniform was pristinely clean, although he noted the shoes had already acquired a layer of dirt and grime from it’s failed “field testing”.

It was sitting there (which of course destroyed another portion of Carl’s fence and garden considering how massive it’s proportions were, and how much it weighed), but otherwise did nothing else but look at them with those soft green eyes. Waiting for it’s orders. It was…Kind of endearing, if not for the fact it destroyed part of his property.

“Explain to me, why you felt the necessity to bring with you and Chloe such a…” he paused to stare at the android. It cocked it’s head to the side as it listened, blinking its two massive eyes as it focused on him. Each eyelash was probably the same length as Carl’s arms. “…Unique model, while visiting my decidedly not so Kaiju-friendly house…”

“The term you’re looking for is fun sized, and the RK200 is hardly a Kaiju. Jaeger would be a much more fitting term considering his nature and overall shape.” Elijah smiled as he took a sip of his tea. “And I thought it appropriate to let him test his legs before reaching his destined household. I didn’t account for how clumsy his baby steps would be, however…I should have expected he’d need time to calibrate his movements.”

“It’s a domestic android?” Carl raised an eyebrow and snorted at the thought “Boy, in what world does something that big fit inside someone’s house?”

“You’ll find I made the necessary changes to your house for him to fit nice and snug like a bug in a mug, as long as he sits still, which he’s a master at when he’s not bored.”

“You did what now…?”

“Of course a 50 foot android will get bored easily. The RK200 is very sophisticated and inquisitive.” The inventor carried on “He adapts as he learns, and as such I’d advise constant interaction with him to ensure the best results…”

“Elijah what did you do to my house?”

“That’s not to say he’s clueless of course! You’ll find the RK200 can maintain a perfectly good conversation although, due to his size, verbal communication is not advised, as previous testing noted that his vocal range has a proficiency for shattering glass and porcelain. You’ll have to learn ASL.”

“Elijah!”

“Carl it’s all fine. Here, see?” He turned to the gargantuan prototype overseeing them “RK200, initiate Home Program.”

The green eyed android blinked twice, LED momentarily shifting from blue to yellow as it processed the command, and then the side wall behind Carl opened up like a garage door. On closer inspection, it seemed the two floors shifted upwards as well, to accommodate for the android’s tremendous size.

Carl’s jaw dropped as he watched this happen, before he turned to look back at his friend in absolute disbelief.

“When did you get this done? Any of this?!”

“I could tell you, but it would warrant a restraining order.”

“Elijah I swear to God…”

“Carl please? He will take care of you, and god only knows you could use the company.” Elijah gave the empty tea cup to Chloe, who opted to silently watch the argument unfold while she idly stood besides the prototype “You’ve been living the hermit-chique life without the chique part. You look a mess 24/7, hardly talk to me unless I physically stand besides you, and your habits are not in the slightest healthy.”

“Since when have you become my mother? I’m an old man Elijah, not a child! I won’t live off someone else’s pity!” Carl snapped.

“If you’re not a child, stop acting like one!” Kamski yelled loudly, his patience running thin. “I’m worried! You’re my friend and you’ve gone through a traumatizing event! Not only that but you just became single again after seven years in a relationship and need stability and support! The RK200 will give you all of that, no questions asked!”

“How will it do anything at that size?!” Carl pointed at the android that towered over them eerily silent. It just watched, just as Chloe did, but it’s inquisitive expression had changed to a small frown, as if it were trying to understand a complicated problem.

“You think I wouldn’t find ways around the size of my creations? Carl, you know better than that.” The brunet shook his head, arms crossed and glasses perched on his nose.

“Yes, because “obviously” I can imagine those hands, which are as large as a fully grown man, grasping the fragile china that is currently shattered on the kitchen floor, without completely pulverizing it into fine dust…” Carl grimaced, glaring daggers at his friend before looking at the RK200. It was still frowning, but had directed it’s attention to its creator.

“I have everything sorted out Carl. What do you take me for?” Kamski looked up at the android and smiled “RK200, show Carl your household features.”

The Android in question gave a polite nod before looking at Carl and raising both hands so that they were held up with the palms facing the artist. Carl wondered what it would do, before his eyes widened as large as saucers as the skin of the arms deactivated, revealing intricate paneling and seams. These panels opened up, splitting the arms and hands into various parts, before several cables spilled out from within. The great majority of said cables was tipped with what appeared to be regular sized hands, while others were tipped by lenses.

There were hands and “eyes” inside its actual hands.

“….Elijah that is the freakiest most scariest thing I have ever seen in my entire life…”

“There’s more.”

“Oh god…”

The RK200 quietly closed up its arms after retracting the hidden limbs back inside of their proper compartments, and then pulled it’s uniform shirt up. The skin of the stomach area deactivated and then a massive storage unit popped open. From inside it, popped out two drones and a regular sized android of identical appearance to the RK200.

“The drones are for delivery and retrieval, the extra android is a remote controlled escort for you whenever you need fresh air. The three are completely linked to the RK200s mind, effectively they are him.” Elijah explained as one of the drones flew around the artist and inventor, while the remote controlled android bowed calmly. “He can actually speak through this body, so while I encourage you brush up on ASL, you can always keep a nice conversation with him out on a public stroll.”

“Elijah…Just how many concepts were you toying with before you decided to give me this…Mishmash of purposes?” Carl felt like he was in the twilight zone at this point. This was the most sci-fi-ish android he’d ever seen, and Cyberlife had chugged out a LOT of strange models.

“A few. The most impressive is his programming actually…The code is adaptive and changes depending on stimuli.” Elijah smiled as he watched the RK200 collect it’s extensions. “He’s a little like Chloe, but…But more. And I’ll admit, picking you is selfish, but you’re the one person I’d trust to teach our boy to be something more than just a collection of ideas.”

“You want a depressed man who hasn’t been out in weeks, to teach a giant android to be a good person?”

“Pretty much.”

“This could end badly, you know…” Carl looked once more to the Android, startling when he noticed it had laid down on its stomach and was now mere inches away from him, face practically right on top of Carl’s sitting body. It had an odd expression on its face, but it didn’t look inherently malicious so Carl quickly forced his pulse to calm.

“It won’t. You’re not gone Carl, as much as you’d like to be considering your state…You’re a clever man, with a lot to teach someone.” Elijah insisted. “You’ll make a fine young man out of our dear baby RK200.”

“I agree sir.” Chloe smiled as she approached, making sure to pat the colossus on the face in passing. “You’ve been nothing but kind to Elijah and myself. Your wisdom and kindness will be invaluable for RK200’s development. He will also benefit you, in being quite the delightful companion.”

“…Well…I guess I better look up ASL…”

“Is that a yes?” Elijah grinned triumphantly.

“I’m afraid so.”

“Excellent! I’ll give you the basic rundown here…Starting with supplies, no need to worry he doesn’t run entirely on thirium, that’d be incredibly difficult to sustain. Although I will send you shipments monthly since he does need it to self-heal. Which brings us to the next topic! Self-healing! If he gets badly roughed up somehow, just give him thirium and scrap metal! Biocomponents will do if you have them on hand. His body does the rest!” Elijah chittered excitedly while Carl went back to observing the android he’d been saddled with. It was still watching him, and only him, intently.

Most of Elijah’s technobabble went unheard as Carl watched the giant extend a finger in his direction, before carefully reaching out.

Said finger opened up, a few retractable limbs and cameras (again, creepy as fuck!) coming out and inspecting the wheelchair, before one hand tentatively offered for a handshake.

Carl took it and was surprised at how real the synthetic skin felt.

“Hello there…” Carl found himself smiling as the android shyly looked away for the briefest of seconds, like a young child meeting a family friend for the first time, before looking back at him and quirking the corners of its mouth upwards. It lifted it’s other hand up and greeted slowly with it’s fingers.

The gentleness of this gigantic being was sticking.

Carl decided in the end that this might not be too bad after all.

A few years later, in 2038, Carl found himself smiling as two familiar drones flew into his room and nestled themselves against his sides all the while purring that strange mechanical purr of theirs (which he’d long since associated with Markus’s good moods), while he watched a revolution unfold on the news.

His boy had come a long way since the first time he’d stepped foot in his property.

Despite his tremendous size and incomparable strength, Markus had not once taken a violent approach at any given chance.

His kind was met with anger and fear, yet the 50 foot android had done everything in his powers to be a benevolent and fair leader to both saptient species.

The remote body appeared for every public event, giving him no advantage over the situations, while his true body remained hidden away up until now…

He revealed himself out of necessity, the remote body destroyed during the attack on the barricade, with that horrid Perkins demanding his presence as soon as he realized Markus wasn’t dead.

And he’d complied to the wishes of a man who thought he’d been the cat that caught the canary. That grin fell off his face as soon as the 50 foot leader of the Android Revolution had squeezed through buildings, careful not to step on anything, avoiding the routes which had civilians and military alike to avoid casualties.

The world watched as a literal giant showed mercy and compassion, where humanity showed senseless cruelty, and Carl couldn’t be prouder.

He’d raised the boy well.

Elijah and Chloe had made the right choice in leaving him with Carl.

And the artist had to admit…For a 50 foot colossus, Markus was nothing if not a gentle caring young man, and he’d been entirely lucky to have him.

Bless Elijah Kamski’s eccentric ideas…But damn if the man still didn’t owe him a garden full of begonias.

#eps writes:#Fanfic #detroit: become human #detroit become human #dbh markus #carl manfred #elijah kamski #dbh chloe #g/t #giant/tiny #gt dbh

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fanficslutforsmut · 5 years

Text

Weak Moments: Three

"You did what?" Olivia asked. She stood up, her hands going to her hair.

"Alright Roslyn, I just really need you to tell me everything that you remember about how you got away okay, everything you can," Sonny said, putting his hand on my knee to steal my attention away from Liv. I looked at him, his eyes so blue like the ocean I was always drowning in. I just nodded feverishly, moving my knee from his grasp, he put his hand back onto his own lap.

"It was this morning, he finally let me out of the basement. I was in there for days, no food, no water. It was a prison in there, Liv. I tried so hard to leave but I couldn't, but this morning he let me upstairs. I was cleaning when he wouldn't stop yelling at me, he just kept saying how I was never good enough to be Molly, that I would never be her. He said he needed a new Molly, a better one. I was at the fireplace when he grabbed my hair. He grabbed it so hard he pulled some of my hair out," I touched the bloodied patch in the back of my head. I watched as Sonny grimaced and Olivia brought her hand to cover her mouth, eyes flooded with tears.

"I was so tired Liv, I didn't want him to beat me again." I cried. "But he did, he wouldn't stop Liv, he kept hitting me over and over and over again, left me on the floor when he was done." I paused, afraid of Olivia's reaction to my next words, the confession to my own crime.

"Then I-I just grabbed the fire stick and hit him with it, over and over again, until he was on the floor, he-he didn't say anything Liv. When he fell I grabbed his keys and ran, I locked the door and got in his car, the smelly one. God, I hate that smell so much." I cried, itching away at my skin, it was like the smell followed me everywhere, the smell of dampness and medicine.

"I took his phone and looked you up, how to find you at your work, I just- I needed you Olivia, he would have killed me." I yelped, reaching off the bed for her, needles ripping out of my skin, the blood flowing free from my arms as I wrapped then around Liv. I winced at the feeling but ignored it because the only thing I wanted or needed, to feel was safe around Olivia, like no one could ever hurt me again.

"Ross please, you'll hurt yourself." She claimed, walking us back towards the bed, Sonny's head was already peaked out the door looking for a nurse. Someone came in, watching me wearily before reattaching me to the IV, putting a bandage on its old place on my arm. We all sat quietly for a moment, taking the time to process all my words, Liv and I content with just staring at each other. It was only quiet for a few minutes when someone slams the door open, an older angry man staring Olivia down.

"Olivia, I need you out of there right now." He huffed, his face red and breathing hard.

"No, wait she can't leave, stop I need her," I yelled, my hands grabbing at her arm, pulling her to me. "You can't take her, stop please don't take her," I screamed, my heart rate erratic at this point, the noise on the monitor tightening together. The pace my heart was going made it hard to concentrate, I could feel my muscles tensing up, afraid I'd be left alone again. My face felt hot.

"Ross, Ross? Hey, we need a doctor in here!" She yelled, I laid back, my body stiff as my heart continued to beat rapidly in my chest, it all felt so constricted. My face was hot and I couldn't catch my breath, the fear of someone taking Olivia away from me crippling me completely, I couldn't take my eyes off hers as nurses pushed everyone out the door. Tears were streaming out of my eyes, down the sides of my face as I laid back, into my ears. This was all worse, a bright light was shoved into my face, a breathing mask over my mouth and nose. I cried hard now, letting everything out, I coughed up my emotions, barely breathing through the mask. That's when I felt the pinprick of the needle jabbing in my arm, it was all hazy again, the monitors quieting down while I could feel my muscles relax for the most part.

My eyelids were so heavy, I fought the tiredness off as much as I could, turning my head to see out the window, except this times the shades were drawn and I could only see the barely there reflection of myself on the bed. I looked a mess. I just looked back up, my eyes hooded and barely open, my body entirely limp now. I let the sleep overcome me, almost welcoming the peace and quiet this sleep would bring.

* "I need you to call me when she wakes up, I'll let Liv know." I recognized the voice as Amanda. "She's benched on this but Finn and I are going to check out the house and CSU are on the car at the station, collecting everything right now." She told him. I kept my eyes shut while they talked, letting everything go on without me as I had done to Mathew on multiple occasions. I could always feel him standing in the doorway while I was 'sleeping', waiting for him to finally close the door and leave me be before I let sleep consume me.

I was in and out for the most part of the next few hours. My eyelids felt like they weighed a ton by the time I felt well and energized enough to actually wake up. My body still felt tight and tense when I tried to pull myself up, forcing my eyes open, squinting at the bright light that the window let in, an unfamiliar view of outside.

"Ah you're up, can I get you anything, Roslyn? Water, juice, pop, something to eat?" Sonny asked, his tone quiet and sincere, he helped me sit up by propping a pillow behind me and hitting the remote on the bed to pull it into a sitting position. I looked at him questioningly, I was so unaccustomed to this, having this genuine man offer me whatever I wanted.

"Water please, "I answered, my throat raw and aching, I paused to rub at my throat, instead, feeling the dried dirt and blood that stained me. I watched as Sonny went to the small sink in the corner of the room. I looked around before realizing this wasn't the same room I had originally been submitted to. This one was nicer, bigger, and even homier. Sonny laid the cup on the table next to me and sat back down, watching intently as I sipped on it.

"Ross," I whispered.

"Hm?" He asked, not quite sure what I was getting at.

"You can call me Ross," I said, still not looking at him. My ears turning red and my face glinting pink with a light breeze of blush. My hair felt horrendous as did the rest of my body, dirty and grimy.

"I need a shower, please Sonny, I haven't had one for days," I asked. I knew that I smelled, that I must also look disgusting. He nodded sympathy in his eyes again. He put up a finger to me and got up to leave the room.

"Wait, where are you going?" I yelped, not ready to be alone in this room.

"Ross, it's okay, I'm just calling Liv, maybe she can bring you some things." He said, shaking his hands, he sat back down slowly. "I'll call her here ok?" He asked, hoping I was calmer.

"Please don't leave, I don't want to be alone!" I sobbed. He nodded, quickly complying, he got his phone out and started dialing.

"Hey Liv, I was just calling to say that Ross is up and awake, she wants a showering so I was just wondering if you could bring anything here for her." He questioned, looking away from me while on the phone. I couldn't hear whatever she was saying but in a second he looked back up to me. "Oh, alright I understand, I'll ask Amanda if she has anything, alright thanks bye." He nodded to himself.

"Is she coming?" I asked, interested in being with Olivia again.

"She can't right now. She has to talk to some people about you and then maybe she can, but I'm going to call Amanda and ask if she can bring anything over for you." I nodded, looking away at him and toward the window. I was disappointed and you could surely see it on my face.

Minutes passed before someone knocked on the door, me huffing slightly when it was only Amanda coming in, she held a bag in her right hand and closed the door with her left one.

"I didn't really know what size you wore so I just got you these, and Liv said these were your favorite." She claimed, removing the contents of the bag onto the bed. A pair of grey fleece sweatpants with a matching sweatshirt, a red t-shirt, some underwear, a pair of soft fuzzy socks, and finally soap. It smelled of vanilla, indeed it was my favorite. It was even the same brand she bought me when I was younger, the same shampoo and conditioner too, a loofa and a razor. I nodded, thanking her quietly. It was an awkward moment of silence before Amanda spoke again, to Carisi this time.

"I can trade you shifts if you need to leave-" "No!" I cut her off. "Please stay, "I begged. "It's fine Amanda," Sonny told her, she looked at me skeptically and walked away and out the door, leaving Sonny and me in comfortable silence.

"Can I shower now?" I asked him, touching softly at the clothes in front of me. "I'll ask the nurses real quick, I'll just be right out the door ok." He told me, walking to the door, barely popping his head out. "Excuse me ma'am, I have a victim in here needing a shower, is it ok if she takes one?" He asked quietly, his accent was nice, like a melody to my ears.

"Well her chart her does say she still hasn't taken a rape kit, could we do a one over at her really quick before a shower, do you think?" She asked, poking her head past him to look at me, giving me a sweet smile. He gave her a 'one second' look before turning and walking back towards me.

"Alright so I'll make a deal with you alright Ross, you let this doctor look at you for a few seconds alright and I'll get you that shower, and some food to alright." I thought over his offer. I hadn't eaten in what felt like days and the IV hadn't done much to help with anything. There wasn't anything that could hurt me by complying, and I knew how much the testing meant to Liv.

I nodded sheepishly, the nurse came in with some instruments, sitting on a stool next to me, pulling the curtain around us, between Sonny and I. I closed my eyes and let her do all the things she had wanted, taking all the photos of me, I cried silently when she inserted things inside me. It hurt just a bit and I yelped at the sharp stinging but it was all over after that. She smiled sweetly at me before grabbing her things and pulling the curtain back, leaving the room.

"Shower?" I questioned.

"Shower." He nodded back at me.

#dominik carisi #sonny carisi #olivia benson #amanda rollins #law and order svu #svu fanfiction #long reads #love #triggers

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scum-belina · 7 years

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Not to be really depressing but, sometimes I look back on what’s all happened to me since November of last year, and it’s honestly baffling all the horrific shit I’ve been through. My dad had been in crippling pain all summer and autumn last year, but tried to get through it bc he just thought it was sciatica. He started taking some of my granny’s absurdly strong pain pills because he didn't want to seek medical attention for his issue bc we have no health insurance, but I saw that he was only getting worse and wanted him to just get on indigent care bc mom had before and we were able to afford that medical help no problem, but he refused to. A month before his cancer diagnosis his behavior towards me changed dramatically, he started screaming at me over everything, cursing at me in horrible ways, and my mom just kept quiet about it because my dad said I deserved it for being a bitch at him.

Then once dad got the cancer diagnosis, my mom fucking lost it. She was saying how we couldn't survive without my dad over and over and I had to be the comforter, but no one comforted me. I had to push all my feelings deep down because no one was well enough to listen to them or be there for me. We only knew about the spinal tumor then, we didn't even know it was malignant, or that he had a brain tumor and other small tumors on his spine. To this day my mom blames my dad’s brain tumor for his verbally abusive behavior towards me, but I just don't know. It still fucks me up because everything he said to me still is like open wounds on me. I’m still traumatized over it and all the things that happened after it.

Then just moments after my dog passed away after a miserable night of trying to keep her as comfortable as possible all night while suffering from multiple seizures and just trying to let her know I was there with her and she wasn't alone (she was blind), my dad became completely paralyzed and could not get off of the couch. He had also lost all control of his bladder and had apparently pissed in his sleep all over Christmas presents in the living room my mom had already wrapped beautifully. Mom assumed my dad had just took too many pain pills and it made him act that way.

But it only got worse from there. 5 days he stayed on that couch. Did not get off of it once. You can imagine the horror. His left leg had become completely numb due to the lymphoma on his spine damaging the nerves controlling it, and my mom discovered he had developed a huge bed sore on the back of that leg bc he had it against the couch for days bc he couldn't move it. My mom freaked, and I got upset and told them both he needed emergency medical attention NOW, but they wouldn't listen and instead said to give them 7-10 days to get indigent care and then MAYBE he’d go to the doctors. He would not have survived being on that couch immobile another 7-10 days.

But on the 5th night, my mom and I were watching tv in the back room, and heard a noise in the living room like something had crashed over, so we went out to check and dad was on the couch knocking things off of the table next to him, and when my mom asked him what he was doing he talked complete nonsense, not a thing he said made sense. “I’m trying to buy lightbulbs with tim and this black man and youll know about them strawberries once you see them DONT ACT LIKE YOU DONT KNOW” it’d be hilarious if it weren't for the fact the brain tumor was messing with his mind, but we didn't know about the tumor at the time, and I had seen my dad have a couple of drinks that night, so my mom and I assumed he got drunk, which was EXTREMELY out of character for him, but since he was in such a pitiful state we though maybe it was enough to make him get drunk.

My dad continued on with his bizarre behavior, and I couldn't take it anymore, I called my granny (bc she lives right next door) and she showed up and saw him, and I stayed the night at her place bc I couldnt stand to be home anymore. I called my dad’s sister bc she lives in the same neighborhood too, and she went and checked up on him and thought he was drunk too. We all agreed that in the morning he HAD to go to the ER, and he did...after 5 firemen showed up to carry him out of the house into a car. He had become completely incontinent at that point and was an absolute mess no matter how much mom mom tried to keep him clean, so this was a completely disasterous situtation in every single way. My dad told us he had not been drunk that night and we all panicked bc we didn't know what else it could be. This all happened the day before Christmas Eve.

My dad’s ex-stepdad was the one who took him to the ER, and the hospital decided to try and remove the tumor through surgery the morning of Christmas Eve. That morning, my mom and I were home, but mom was going to be picke up and go to the hospital later and stay there all day, but they wanted to do the surgery earlier than expected, so the doctors called us bc they needed mom’s permission to do the surgery, so I bring the phone to my mom and she refuses to talk with them. I don't know what the fuck her deal was but I was having none of it and got really ugly with her until she answered the phone and gave them permission. She was all “THERE. YOU HAPPY NOW?“ So again I was hurting immensely yet was still getting kicked down and I was acting tough but honestly I was so alone and scared.

Then my mom went to the hospital, and I went to my grandparents to try and help prepare for their Christmas eve party, all while trying to keep everyone updated on my dad, and a little after noon, my mom called my hysterical, telling me that the surgery was unsuccessful because the tumor wasn't solid enough to remove, and that after further scans they found other spinal tumors, and a tumor in his brain. again, I was calm and told mom not to lose it too much because there could be treatment for it, but honestly I was just in shock and in survival mode. Mom came back to my grandparents and we had the most miserable Christmas we’ve ever had.

Dad continued on with his delirium until his brain surgery to remove the tumor the best they could back in January, then they did tests on the tumor and another month later we found out it was CNS lymphoma, an aggressive cancer, that likes to come back even after treatment. Back in May of this year after just 4 rounds of chemo, dad was pronounced cancer free, but his oncologist had him take over 7 more treatments, just to try and deter the cancer from coming back. Dad got his last treatment a month ago, and he’s still unable to walk, but with physical therapy he is making some progress.

We’ve gone this whole year without income, bc my dad was the only one able to work, and disability has rejected dad twice this year despite him obviously being disabled. This month dad’s case for disability will go to court and i’m praying he gets approved this time, because just relying on my relatives is terrifying. The relatives ive had to rely on this year are the most toxic and verbally abusive people it’s been hell all year dealing with them. I’ve wanted desperately to get my license and be able to drive to get my own job, but my granny manipulated my dad to give his only working vehicle to her, and so I'm completely stuck rn. Trapped at my verbally abusive grandparent’s house bc my mom and I have had to live here all year instead of our own home bc we cant pay our utility bills rn.

I’ve dealt with so much trauma,so much discouragement, so much abuse from people closest to me this year, all while having untreated severe depression, anxiety, and severe suicidal ideation that I've had for over a decade now. This is only a fraction of what ive been through this year. There’s so much other horrible fucked up shit that’s happened to me I honestly cant deal with the reality of it all most days, but tonight is a night where everything is coming back to me, it’s just constant flashbacks of it all and I just cant believe it. I cant believe any of this has happened to me, but it has. It has and i’m terrified even worse is to come for me.

#warning tis is LONG and very depressing I'm sorry #most of u probably already know all this but I needed to vent this all out tonight #it's a mess but so is my mind #also he got his cancer diagnosis from a doctor who had been told abt the pain my dad was in and he did an mri for him #bc he was detrmined to find out what was wrong w my dad #but he didn't fully get just how severe a stae my dad was in so has wasn't in a hurry abt getting my dad emergency medical attention

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foreignaccent-a · 7 years

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what are your thoughts on tyrion?

WOW OKAY FIRST OFF i thought i lost this ask when my page refreshed, what the fuck– second of all, i don’t know if this is meant for ooc or ic, but i’ll answer both!

so, lemme preface this: i love tyrion. i really do, i understand he has faults, and i dont try or want to glorify them, but i still do love his character. he honestly fascinates me, and that’s the bare bones of it. now, to break it down, book tyrion and show tyrion are, in my opinion, vastly different characters– perhaps not as drastic as, say, book shae and show shae, but there are things tyrion does in the books that i don’t quite see him as doing in the show. ( now, mind you, its been a long time since ive seen the earlier seasons, so if he did certain things from the books in the show, ive forgotten ) in the books he’s threatened or implied r//ape numerous times ( once against his own nephew ), got a boner from watching his ex-wife get r//aped, etc. etc. hes terrible, and show tyrion doesnt do that. even given his final interactions with shae, both leading up to the trial and after, i still like tyrion as a character. do i like what he did? no. do i like how the fandom glorifies him while demonizing shae? fuck no. but i still do like him as a character. his motives and way of thinking are interesting– that for all his knowledge, his idea of getting shae to leave was by insulting and humiliating her in the worst way possible. not a great call in my book. his way of handling things backfired spectacularly, and if it isn’t obvious, i don’t blame shae for testifying against him, even if she wouldn’t have done it of her own free will.

but anyways, overall, despite his faults, despite the terrible things he may have said or done, he does fascinate me as a character, and i love him.

shae’s thoughts, however, are a different story.

in the beginning, i like to think he intrigued her. more often than not, the men she laid with likely weren’t very intellectually stimulating– they may have thought themselves clever, but i doubt any of them would have taken the time to really have a real rapport with her. so when he meets her witty comments with his own, when he actually seems amused by her comments instead of likely brushing them aside, she’s interested. as things transpire, however, that mere intrigue, mere interest, quickly develops into something more– she loved him. was he the first man she loved? i dont think so, i think there may have been one other, but point is, he’s here now, and she loves him. she likes sleeping with him, yeah, but she doesn’t want his money, she enjoys his company, she risks her life to see him and threatens to hurt his family for hurting him. she cares about him for him, not for his name, not for his money, not for his position of power– she loves him.

after his marriage to sansa, though, she starts to get jealous– which i know everyone interprets that she’s jealous of sansa, because she gets to be with tyrion. but honestly, i don’t think that’s completely it. sure, part of it, but i think more of it is that tyrion hired her during the battle of green fork to be with him– only him. he was going to elect to leave her while he returned to king’s landing, partially because of tywin’s order, but he ended up saying fuck it and brought her anyways– where, mind you, she was still exclusively seeing him. you know, even though her job as a sex worker isnt to be sexually exclusive with one man. she even goes so far as to turn down his money ( on multiple occasions, ) therefore solidifying the idea that she isn’t there as a sex worker– she’s staying loyal to him because she loves him. she doesn’t go off when he’s not around and shack up with some guy– she’s with him, albeit privately, and only him.

but then he gets married, and sure, as he says, he has to keep up the appearance of the marriage– but suddenly, she’s getting brushed aside by him, he wants to talk to sansa alone, and suddenly, she can’t see him as much. she was brought to king’s landing by him, told to be loyal to him, and now, she can’t even do that. so what does she do? go fuck the first guy that waltzes into her view? no, she stays loyal, even if he isn’t completely hers anymore, even if he is technically ‘allowed’ to have two women in his life– she stays loyal to him. her loyalty is then repaid with him insulting her, degrading her, enforcing the idea that, as a sex worker, she is unworthy of love. of affection. that how could he ever love her? even if his intentions were just to get her to want to leave on the ship, his words would have the same effect of her telling him that he is nothing more than an imp, a cripple– and how could she ever love someone like him?

so she’s heartbroken, and hurt, but i think even then she doesn’t hate him– she does for a bit, but after her anger and frustration and upset fades, she’s just left utterly despondent. or, you know, she would have if she wasn’t captured by the lannisters and forced to testify against him.

in my verse where she survives, she still loves him, 50000%. even if he tried to kill her, even if she tried to defend herself with a knife– she still loves him, for better or worse.

#; out of lorath ( ooc )#; what if your heart never knew where to go ( answered )#//rape mention #//long post #Anonymous

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atemusluckygal-fanfiction · 7 years

Note

crossover between yugioh and death note? plz?

Oh boy… I’ve been waiting for something like this! *cracks knuckles*

Whipped this up tonight, sorry it’s short and I didn’t do any editing. I’m still writing Part IV of my ongoing story “Vices” right now, so I don’t want to distract myself too much. Also, I’ve never done a crossover before. I hope this wasn’t horrible XD

“A God You Are Not” - by Atemusluckygal

The tall, slender, sharp-dressedgraduate of To-oh University towered confidently over his adversary—a muchshorter man clothed in some hideous scene-punk leather getup, a wildly colorfuland unkempt hairstyle, and a gaudy pendant dangling over his torso to completethe juvenile picture. The graduate’s irises, burning a bloodthirsty crimson,peered through combed brown bangs to meet the cold stare of the opposite’s pairof regal violet eyes with equal tenacity.

“Do you really think you’rea god, Light?” asked the short man with ridiculous hair. His voice wassurprisingly low for someone of his apparent age and size, perhaps fatherly buthad a judgmental edge to it; his diction was formal and refined, making himsound even more condescending.

Light pondered his nextwords very carefully, spinning the well-oiled gears of his talented mind. Wasit the right time and circumstance to freely admit and acknowledge his secretpersona as Kira? How did this man even know about that? He didn’t know anything about Light, or Kira for thatmatter. Who was he to judge or to lecture? He was a fool—if he really did know who Kira was, he’d be coweringin fear and trying to protect his life at all costs.

After all, a small fragmentof a blank page from the magic notebook waited patiently in the secret latch ofhis rigged wristwatch, ready to serve as a blank easel for his next fatalmasterpiece; it would be too easy. The moron didn’t have the slightest clue howprecariously close he was to a fatal heart attack. Or, perhaps, anunfortunately-timed semi-truck steered by an inattentive driver…

A wide, sinister smile slashedacross his lips. “Of course not.”

Light figured the best wayto conduct himself was to remain soft-spoken and vague to the best of hisability, at least until he had a name to hold for ransom. The less hevolunteered information of himself and his schemes, the better. Although, itmattered little; Light was internally reeling in anticipation of watching thisman exchange his smug grin for an open mouth gasping for air, a still-backedconfident figure crumpling pathetically to the ground, his heart palpitating violentlyuntil his last dying breath. At this point, he didn’t care what this man knew,or even how he knew. He would surely die, and Kira would continue his reignunimpeded.

The spiky-haired teenagerfolded his arms, erecting a pillar of pride that sought to exaggerate his heightand stature. “I know what you are, Light Yagami. Or do you prefer, ‘Kira’?”

Light narrowed his eyes,choosing not to respond. So he didknow.

“You’re a child, Light. Aviolent, immature, greedy child who was given too much power and not enoughguidance. Your twisted sense of ‘justice’ you impose on the world… it’s nothingmore than a self-serving ascension to the highest hilltop, to govern peopleusing fear and threat to cripple them into submission. Does that sound like a‘god of justice’ to you?”

Light scowled outwardlybefore he could contain himself. The arroganceof this man! His blood simmered with hatred growing more intense by the second.The world was rotting from terrible people and their crimes, and he had beenchosen to wield the weapon that would be the end-all solution to the world’stroubles! He, not this imbecileinsulting him so callously!

“You have no idea whatyou’re talking about,” spat Light, “Kira seeks to cleanse the world of crime,to create a new world. A betterworld, where only kind and honest people live! Don’t you understand, you fool?Kira is justice! How dare you tarnish Kira’s dream!” Anger shook his voice andbreath, searing through the polite and composed exterior he normally frontedwith ease.

His opponent simply stoodthere, unmoving without so much as a slightest quirk of his eyebrow, as hepatiently waited for Light to stabilize. For someone who could so easily bewiped from the earth by a few quick pen strokes, he didn’t show any sign offear or regret.

“What a childish way to seethe world,” was the irritatingly calm response. “For someone so intelligent,you are tragically ignorant. You are not creating a new world, Light. What you are creating, however, is an ever-risingdeath toll to serve your horribly misguided concept of right and wrong.” Thoseunblinking purple eyes pierced straight into Light’s. “You are not justice, andyou certainly aren’t any god. You areevil.”

That word… ‘evil’. When usedto describe him, Light hated that word almost as much as he hated the conceptof evil itself. Misguided? On the contrary. Light was the enlightened one, witha clear vision for the world’s future utopia, and anyone who stood in his waywould only meet the same fate as the criminals they defend. His fists clenchedtightly.

“Do you want to die?” spat Light. His rage was becoming harder to control.“Kira is not evil… Kira is getting ridof evil! Kira is justice!”

Light turned to the left,regarding a tall, monster-esque figure only he could see. A Shinigami, a God ofDeath.

“Ryuk, tell me this man’sname!” Light demanded. “I must know! Tell me so I can kill him!” His fiststrembled with fury.

Ryuk remained expressionless,as was his usual nature. He stared back at Light. “I can’t.”

“What? What do you mean you can’t? Is it because you told me you won’tgive me anyone’s name because you’re not my ally?” Light paused to take anexasperated breath. “Listen, there’s a dozen fresh apples in it for you, justgive me his name.” He pointed to the man. “He is an enemy of Kira, an obstructerof justice, and he must die!”

To Light’s surprise, the manspoke first. “So Ryuk is your name. A God of Death, huh? Pleased to meet you,Ryuk. You can call me Yami. As you must know, that is not my real name, but itwill do for now.”

Both Ryuk and Light sharedidentical shocked expressions. “You can see me?!” implored Ryuk.

Yami touched the goldenupside-down pyramid hanging from a silver chain around his neck. It flashed alight so quickly, Light almost thought he imagined it. This was clearly noordinary man.

“You’re not the only onewith a supernatural gift in the human world, Light,” said Yami. “ThisMillennium Puzzle is several thousand years old, forged from ancient Egyptianmagic and sorcery. It is connected with my soul, and it helps me see what otherpeople cannot, amongst other things.”

Yami looked Ryuk in the eye.“No apparition or otherworldly being can hide from me. Nor can the darknessconsuming your heart, Light. Your heart is a glass case, and I can see theblack smoke within it.”

Light sneered. Who was this man? Had he somehow touched aDeath Note? There was no way he had such power otherwise. In any case, he hadto die, and quickly.

“Ryuk! Tell me his name!” Hedrew his left wristwatch a few inches from his chest at the ready. Hisbloodthirst heightened, his stomach sank, at the possibility of meeting anunassailable foe. Hot-boiled blood pumped through his heart and veins.

“I told you, Light,” Ryukresponded coolly, “I can’t.” He peered curiously at Yami, floating a few feetcloser to him. “Normally, my Shinigami Eyes show me the true name and lifespanof any living human, but for Yami… I can’t see anything at all! It’s completelyblank!”

Light’s eyes snapped wideopen in disbelief. “What?”

Yami simply smirked whilebeholding Light’s reaction. He folded his arms again, daring a challenge withhis eyes.

Light couldn’t believe whathe was hearing. He had seen Ryuk’s apple “withdrawal” symptoms firsthand onmultiple occasions. That was a bribe he could always count on. So, if Ryukreally couldn’t see Yami’s real name, or even lifespan…

“What are you?” Lightfinally asked, with a touch of wonder.

“A long-dead, amnesiac spirit in aborrowed body,” Yami answered, holding his smirk in place. “So long as I don’tknow my own name, neither will you. So long as my death date remains a mysteryto me, the death date of this vessel remains a mystery to you. Not even Ryuk, a real god, can end me so easily. Isn’tthat nice?”

Light lowered his wrist. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, but you will die,” he promised through gritted teeth. “I will find a way.”

“Then, let this be your Gameof Darkness.” Yami casually slipped his hands in his pockets, and turned on hisheel to leave. He paused, and looked back at Light and Ryuk one last time. “One morething. If you do indeed find a way to kill me while I’m in this body, before I put an end to yourreign of terror… if you’d be so kind as to tell me what my real name is, I’dreally like to know.”

END

Thanks for asking, anon! That was a really fun exercise!

xo ALG

#atemusluckygal-fanfiction answers #request fic #yugioh #death note #yami yugi #light yagami #ryuk #crossover

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kendrixtermina · 7 years

Text

Cold Hearted Girl Blues

The “Cold Hearted Girl Blues” Anthology, & associated story ideas.

Just to be safe, TRIGGER WARNING for Disturbing Content and unhealthy attitudes that are in no way representative of reality.

Depiction =/= endorsement.

(Final order may vary)

Part A: Avoidant Attachment Style

Indifferent Girl Playlist - “The expression ‘I don’t feel so well’ makes no gramatical sense. It should be ‘I don’t feel so good’, unless you mean to imply that your ability to feel is hampered.”

Cold Hearted Girl Blues - “One Day she won’t love you either.”

Barren Heart - “The hypocricy of writing about things you know nothing about.”

There Was Nothing In Gauf’s Room - “It’s not her fault, either. What you get is what you see. ”

Failure to Manifest - “Sometimes, this situation has her feeling like she doesn’t exist.”

Cold Hearted Girl Gothic - “Just this single, isolated Conciousness.”

LEERE IST EIN PRIVILEG - “#Introvert Pride.”

Dweeb Life - “Ah, the obscure Joys of bein a shut-in”

Heroin Chick - “Involving no actual heroin.”

You're in a laundry room - “There has been a bit of a failure to connect with this world.”

Biology / inertia - “Even her happiest relationship didn’t go over without being compared to a robot at least once. Balancing extreme introversion with a live-in boyfriend.”

Diffusion - “She has no idea what she looks like. It always surprisesher what people say about her.”

Cold Blooded - “It’s a style of communication, apparently.”

Crazy Headphones Girl - “What could he possibly see in her?”

Cold Hearted Girl Erotica - “Her Kink is compartementalization, but she also dabbles in questionanble sex on drugs threesomes with a hooker.”

Cold Hearted Girl Tumblr - “Preempting the Discourse(TM). I was done with the 2010s when they were a new thing.”

Cold Hearted Girl Musings - “She tries to avoid the common pitfalls, at least in theory.”

Cold Hearted Girl Adventures - “She realizes that she’s the sort of person who breaks people’s heart; She’s like this asshole boyfriend from all these lovesongs.”

Cold Hearted Girl's Lament - “She’s usually the one who has to take it upon herself to be be the rational one and tell you ‘No’.”

Cold Hearted Girl Challenges - “Even the Best of her relationships involved her being compared to a robot at least once.”

Life is Gross - “Including the bits of it that are commonly accepted to be loveable and cute.”

Indifference II: Emotionally unavailable morally ambiguous chick - “There are character flaws, ppl. Being an asshole is generally a bad thing.”

Cyborgery I (the becomming) - “Even when she’s right with you,she’s so far away”

The Minimalist's Wet Dream - “She leads her life with a bare minimum of human contact.”

Alphabet Girl - “It would be one thing if you were competing with the universe, but it’s really her ingrown, self-absorbed world you’re playing second fiddle to.”

Peel - “You thought you could find a normal person underneath, didn’t you?”

Part B: Maladaptive Daydreaming

Endzeitromantik - “No one wants to admit these days that they ever liked NuMetal but she sees no reason to do the same.”

Unapologetic - “She’s not romanticising what she thinks you think she’s romanticising. Or so she thinks.”

Luciferosis - “She’s in love with the Devil and is planning to leave in order to be with him. Of course, she will be missed, but of course, she doesn’t care about it. She’s the sort of asshole who’d fall in love with the Devil.”

Opheliac - “There are multiple ways to be in love with the void. The most relevant ones are not featured in this piece.”

Lone Diggin' - “Going to restaurants on her own.”

The Girl In The Tower - “To preserve something valuable in safe, protected garden... that is not what you did.”

Bizarro Self - “She’s put some thought into this, actually.”

Dreamer Things - “That’s what she calls them, anyway. ‘Dreamer’ may be an euphemism here.”

Make Me Wanna Die - “She just wants to be special, probably because she has no idea what real suffering is. Words mean things, you know?”

Favorite Love Songs - “Though her real life is barren and deprived, she has a rich inner life. Well, then again, how ‘rich’ can an ‘inner life’ be that only ruminates tiny indirect tidbits of information?”

There Is A Little Harley Quinn In All Of Us - “Unpacking the Whole Badboy Complex. It’s not what you think it is.”

Strange Little Girl - “You really should be going.”

Abstract Dreams - “She doesn’t think they mean anything but she’s willing to indulge the thoughts.”

Joy, Joy, Joy, the Melancholia Rolercoaster. - “She likes to think she has feelings.”

Immortelle - “Involving no Actual Immortals.”

I Feel Personally Victimized By Those 19th Century Romanticists - “Even I am not sure what she’s trying to rove here.”

My Fantasy - “Her kink is apparently freezing to death.”

Cyborgery II - “She envies people whose calloused hands show their dedication to their passion.”

Reality Death - “Silly Rabbit, of course the world keeps turning when you’re not there to observe it anymore.”

Dandelion - “The flower that blooms in adversity is the rarest and most beautiful of all. But sometimes it’s better to be the Dandelion, which can take root anywhere and everywhere.”

Plunge - “If there’s some A grade deaster going on, she obviously won’t miss out on watching.”

Fairytale Ending - “My favorites were Sleeping Beauty and ‘The Salt Princess’. Go on and psychoanalyze me.”

Recontextualizing - “She has different words for it now.”

Peeping Tommie - “It’s at it’s purest where it belongs the least. Or perhaps she just grew the fuck up.”

Paper Flowers - “She’d like to think they mean something.”

Part C: Exercises in Counterdependency

The Butthurt Electra Playlist - “She’s got enough self-awareness to call it that, but not enough to realize it was a bad idea.”

She Will Have her Revenge - “She’ll come back as Fire/ To Burn All the Liars/ Leave a Blanket of Ash on the Ground.”

Hate Poems - “Or: Giving yourself Headaches over people who aren’t worth it”

Pavlov redux - “If you can’t understand like a human, you have to be beaten like a dog” - “Actually, Daddy Dearest, you’re not supposed to beat dogs, either.”

Im Real Good At Hating - “Honestly! I’ve got to have some talent somewhere. ”

Fuck You Specifically- “Her Lips: Fuck You. Her Hair: Fuck You. Her Clothes: Fuck You. Her crippling self-motivation issues: Fuck You.”

My whole existence for your amusement - “And that is why I’m here with you.”

Sick & Tired - “Yes I know what you think of me, you never shut up.”

Been A Son - “Why does she spend so much time searching for some kind of reason for what you did? Even if there was, it wouldn’t justify your actions.”

Make a list - “It’s supposed to be a therapeutic excercise.”

choice - “It’s the Morton’s Fork of emotions.”

gross girl - “FAART. FAART. She picks her note and eats it. ”

BratFactory - “She outright heard her mother say that she has no value to that man except as a mother to make children.”

AntiStar - “Back in the day, I became obsessed with the thought of a lightless Luminary, an existence that is the very opposite of light.”

Adaptation - “It’s amazing how much a human can twist themselves into a pretzel. It was a matter of survival at the time, you see.”

Emotional Abuse Checklist - “BINGO!”

Remember That We Suffered - “You have no idea what pain is.”

Cyborgery III: We can Rebuild Her - “Perhaps these vagrant years were simply the means to piece herself back together.”

Idetifikation mit dem Aggressor - “Apparently she looks just like him.”

Es Kocht Die Eifersucht - “A parent is supposed to protect a child from the bad experiences of their youth, not inflict some creepy reenactment of them upon you.”

Curmudgeon (Long Way Home) - “She’s that thing you go to when you want to have a cheap laugh.”

Visibility - “Your Father Loves you! why can’t you see that?”

Touchy - “You bet she is.”

Light - “She thinks she used to be Light once, but she can’t be sure.”

If I Die, I can be replaced - “I will leave you all behind, move to spain and adopt some children who actually deserve my time and money. Perhaps they will finally appreciate me, unlike you ungrateful wretches.”

My One Mistake Was That I Couldn't Let You Down - “Turns out she wasn’t quite Cold Hearted enough.”

PART D: USELESS, USELESS, USELESS CHILD

Fuckyeahmedicalgrossness - “In my humble opinion, the human brain is way too squishy.”

Something in The Way - “You can always find something.”

Unbirth - “Barely Functioning Lump of Human Flesh. Except no, that’s unfair to the people with real problems. I suppose ‘asshole’ will do.”

Donald Duck Volcano - “I’m not gonna sugarcoat her this time.”

My Wretched Soul Desires Violence - “It’s not pretty, but it’s true. It shouldn’t be but it is.”

Verbal Disclaimer - “I’m not claiming I’m perfect either.”

Useless Child - “How was she supposed to learn if you never let her do anything?”

Madwoman in the Attic - “And they always knew she would be the family spinster.”

Unfair Existence - “At the risk of sounding like a millionaire campaigning for a tax on poverty.”

The Mutant - “Way to make that 9 year old feel like a freak of nature... in the end it’s probably a kind of arrogance.”

Green Grunge - “It’s her jam, except not really. She sure can’t claim to be an expert.”

In Defense Of That Legendary Divorce - “The whole concept of ‘stay for the children’ is utter bullsh*t”

My Fantasy II - “I’m gonna kill all yo fuckers. That’s what quiet people who keep to themselves are supposed to do, right?”

Cyborgery IV – Plastic Death - “My Fetish: All the weak parts of the real me, cut away and dumped in a bucket of medical waste.”

Schreckschraube - “It occurs to her that she’s terribly gross to them.”

Nemo, or as my father lovingly calls me, "Chiquilla de Mierda" - “It’s Spanish for ‘Shit Brat’.”

Hasmereir - “Some of the cruelty is lost in translation, but it basically means ‘Make-Me-Laugh-Thing.’”

You Stink - “Bullies aren’t known for being very creative people.”

Sweet Sweet Reality - “She’s not completely out of touch with it.”

Is there More To Lose Than Gain - “Apparently yes, but she’s not sure how to get it anyways.”

Alraune - “Always with the legends and the soulless children. I think she has a type.”

Confession - “I plead guilty. Mostly to existing.”

Way Too Old For This And F****ing Bored Of It - “Even she is sick of all her emo bullsh*t.”

EPILOGUE: WHATS THE USE OF FEELING BLUE? - The next step, apparently, is crying.

#chgb #writing #baby tries to art #trigger warning

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sxdomy · 7 years

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1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk? more cereal2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day? not @ all3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books? tissues, napkins, sticky notes, random cuts of notebook paper4: how do you take your coffee/tea? two-four sugars w creamer or 1/2 n 1/2 (tea)5: are you self-conscious of your smile? not after i got braces6: do you keep plants? no7: do you name your plants? 8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings? idk the only art i do is in photography, and i try to do dark/spooky shit.. it doesnt have a meaning9: do you like singing/humming to yourself? yes10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach? side 11: what's an inner joke you have with your friends? i dont rly have a friends group, less drama that way12: what's your favorite planet? smth has always intrigued me abt mars13: what's something that made you smile today? lars (:14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like? idc it's somewhere to live.. we can fix it up if we have the money. if so, i would prob have a bunch of shit everywhere lmao15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is! it says language programming ??16: what's your favorite pasta dish? some plain old penne/rigatoni w red gravy, but it has to be GOOD red gravy .. none of that ragu/preggo shit17: what color do you really want to dye your hair? black and it already is dyed that color, but i do want to experiment a bit and get few pieces red18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up. JESUS.. these are endless... once i RLY had to pee, and i was @ school. it was after school hrs. my friend and i were waiting for the game to start. all the doors were locked up @ the school. i think they took out the portapotty from outside, so i said to my friend, "let's go to the lower field" (we have an upper and lower field idk what other schools have lmao) despite it saying there are cameras down there (which IK for sure bc i've seen the computer w the school cameras, and there are ones surveilling the fields), i peed. in 8th grade during lunch, this girl pissed me the fuck off. i can't remember what she did, but i picked up her sandwich and threw it to the ground.another time in 8th grade during gym, my friends and i were fooling around during a fitness walk (walk thru the trail surrounded by woods oooo). i was yelling "IN DA GREENZ" bc i was a rly weird kid, and now we bring it up whenever we see bushes. OKAY lasT memORYYY in 8th grade, i was on the soccer team. i sucked @ it... the ball was coming to me, and i tried to kick it. instead of kicking it, my foot went on top of the ball resulting in my fall19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it? i used to keep a journal. last winter was the most recent journal i'd had, and my guidance counselor purchased it for me. i was going thru a rly hard time, and it was an outlet from that. after the winter ended, i never felt the need to write in it again.. it hasnt gotten that bad20: what's your favorite eye color? lars' eye color21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that's been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces. 22: are you a morning person? depends... if my sleeping schedule is just like that, I LOVE WAKING UP IN THE MORNING. if i don't usually, then no fuck it lmao23: what's your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations? literally nothing, but i do that when i have obligations... i get to it @ some point24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets? lars25: what's the weirdest place you've ever broken into? i've broken into my friend's house and my own. breaking into my friend's house wasn't rly that weird. i was out of it bc i had hardly gotten sleep the previous night. i also had permission lmao it wasn't as if i just went in. my friend had forgotten her key. breaking into my own house was actually bizarre ...26: what are the shoes you've had for forever and wear with every single outfit? i usually wear my docs, but i switch out. before getting my docs, i wore my all black vans W LITERALLY EVERYTHING. the only time i wouldnt was when i wore a light outfit, which wasnt often bc 98% of the time i wear all black27: what's your favorite bubblegum flavor? i don't chew gum. it has aspartame, which is literally poison28: sunrise or sunset? i haven't seen a sunset since i was a child, and i want to definitely see it again29: what's something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing? monty is my lover30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared? yes31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks. socks are good. if you wear them in the cold months around the house, you are less susceptible to sickness. they also work well when you wear them w most shoes bc they prevent sweat. lars take notes (; i love wearing weird socks. i love socks. i usually never match socks bc no one will see them?? if i wear a black sock, i try to match w another black sock tho. i do sleep w socks in the cold months. otherwise, my feet would freeze. sometimes i wear multiple socks in the summer to keep my feet warm. i do wear white socks sometimes32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends. i wasn't w my friends, but i found a drunken man in my rm after 3am on st. patricks day two yrs ago33: what's your fave pastry? cannoli34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it? i kept this one stuffed animal who was a girl. she had blonde braids, and i used to kiss her on the lips when no one was looking. i knew it was weird bc she wasn't real. i also used to pretend i was fucking her... it was a weird childhood. idk where she is now35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often? I LOVE PENS!!!! okay im going to sound like a weirdo.. i only love certain kinds. i hate cheap ass pens. my fav pens are the ones that u click on the bottom to get the tip bc the clicking helps me concentrate. it's also fun to just click it. i haven't used a clicky one in awhile bc i bought myself pentels. i love pentels as well bc they come in nice colors, and i rly like the cap for it. i like pens that come from certain companies bc it looks like i've been somewhere.. maybe i have? i've gotten free pens from places and some of them i just found w that lettering lmao 36: which band's sound would fit your mood right now? nine inch nails (:37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean? dont care as long as ik where everything is. my parents call it messy, but i call it my peace38: tell us about your pet peeves! i hate when ppl put things back where they don't belong. idk i dont keep track of this shit39: what color do you wear the most? black40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what's it's story? does it have any meaning to you? none41: what's the last book you remember really, really loving? 1984 by george orwell42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it! starbucks LMAO43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with? no one44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything? the last time i was w lars45: do you trust your instincts a lot? yes46: tell us the worst pun you can think of. idk47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe? high fructose corn syrup48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today? idr what it was then, but now it's getting raped.. ive had this fear since i was 14 i think49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought? i dont usually buy that shit50: what's an odd thing you collect? wristbands.. i like to say i've been places51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them? lars , peach // the front bottoms52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far? the yr just started, bUT I LOVE IAN'S (IDUBZZZZ) VIDEO OF "I HAVE CRIPPLING DEPRESSION"53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them? i want to see rocky horror picture show. i've seen heathers, beetlejuice, and pulp fiction. i love heathers and beetlejuice. i didn't understand pulp fiction entirely, but that could be bc i was spammed by a gc while watching it54: who's the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face? idk55: what's the most dramatic thing you've ever done to prove a point? idk56: what are some things you find endearing in people? smile57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics? i never realized that this song sounds like five mini songs put together... i did reenact them in my head58: who's the wine mom and who's the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why? nonexistent lol59: what's your favorite myth? black eyed children60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves? anything from edgar allan poe61: what's the stupidest gift you've ever given? the stupidest one you've ever received? idk i hate getting gifts i'd rather give them, but i don't usually give them bc i never have money when it's time62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind? ORANGE!63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be? no64: what color is the sky where you are right now? grey65: is there anyone you haven't seen in a long time who you'd love to hang out with? lars66: what would your ideal flower crown look like? idk67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel? i have SAD soooo68: what's winter like where you live? FUCKING HORRIBLE, but it's worse in other places69: what are your favorite board games? ive been missing guess who? lately70: have you ever used a ouija board? no, but my math teacher says u have to make it from a certain wood and put a spell on it for it to work... too much work 😩71: what's your favorite kind of tea? lipton lemon!!!!!72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you'll forget it? i try to note everything down, but sometimes i can remember things w/o writing them down73: what are some of your worst habits? staying in bed for too long74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns. bye75: tell us about your pets! i have a dog, and she's old af lmao i never rly liked her idk i hate dogs76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren't? homework and probably calling up my new job to see when i have to go in.. cant be arsed.. 77: pink or yellow lemonade? pink78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub? FANCLUB!!! (:79: what's one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you?lars gave me cute cat headphones80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why? white.. i didn't choose it81: describe one of your friend's eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of. i can't rn82: are/were you good in school? i made it into university, so i guess so83: what's some of your favorite album art? the devin n god are raging inside of me // brand new .. cant think of many in particular84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones? one in remembrance of my friend who died and a full sleeve85: do you read comics? what are your faves? no86: do you like concept albums? which ones? YES YES YESSSS MANSON 'S CONCEPTS R SO GOOD (: 87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives? idk88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy? i just rly like frida kahlo89: are you close to your parents? no90: talk about your one of you favorite cities. i want to visit/live in philly so badly ):91: where do you plan on traveling this year? texas92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch? i only put a little fresh mozz on it if there is quite a bit93: what's the hairstyle you wear the most? i just wear my hair the same everyday94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday? lars95: what are your plans for this weekend? none96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot? omfg i had 20 or so awaiting updates last summer that i had to finally do bc it was fucking up my computer97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house? what98: when's the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it? i dont hike99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them. NOBODY'S PERFECT BY HANNAH MONTANA100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why? 5 yrs into the future.. why would i want to relive the last 5 yrs of life ?? idk im just fine living w my past mistakes.. they've shaped me

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