#(evidently i need to be in an asylum) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gingerteafairy · 2 months ago

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𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐜𝐡 (𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐳𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

"I love you." And then he froze. No cigarette, drug, morphine or any crutch could compare to that moment. It was the first time in years he felt peace.

tags: angst, anxiety, depression, drugs. word count: 810

0:31

Carmy often complained about how his apartment felt like a asylum, the closest thing to hell. Everything seemed out of place, disorganized, meaningless. Empty.

He needed to redecorate.

The bookshelf looked like something you'd find in a junkyard, piled high with trash. His clothes were scattered everywhere, shoes flipped upside down. The smell of his sheets and the clothes he had worn for days, even though they were past the point of being clean. Sometimes, the plumbing would fail, and he'd have to shout in frustration and accept yet another day without a shower.

01:29

He needed to move.

None of this felt real, normal. His parents fought constantly, his siblings complained, and his entire life seemed better on the other side.

He, himself, seemed better outside.

Everything looked perfect from the outside, with his talent and all the praise he received, even amidst the constant chaos of the restaurant—the shouting, the fights that made him roll his eyes. Nothing made sense.

2:00 AM

He needed a new life.

You: Carmy, I’m sorry. I fell asleep.

Her message interrupted his spiraling thoughts, forcing him to swallow hard and regain his composure.

Carmy: It’s fine. Don’t worry. I was still awake.

You: What happened?

The message glowed on his screen, read only a few minutes ago. She was waiting for a response, nervous, in another city. Just as messy as he was.

Carmy: Same old crap. Don’t worry about it.

He replied, breathing heavily, massaging his temples. His hair was a mess, as it always was in his usual chaos. He looked so beautiful, even in the disarray.

I should get therapy.

02:45

Carmy: One day, I’ll get out of here. One day, I’ll change all of this. I need you. I’m sorry for this.

You: Don’t apologize. Everything will be okay, one day. For both of us.

And so, another night passed. The day came and went, and the night lingered longer than it should. Like a torment that never quite leaves. Chef, Sugar, Mom, Sydney, Jimmy, Richie, Mike. What was wrong?

It was all so confusing, even the cars in Chicago seemed to move slower through his fogged mind. His head felt submerged underwater, the lack of oxygen warping his nervous system. Anxiety. How much air does someone need to stay afloat?

I should quit smoking.

"You know, I’ve always hated smokers," she started, her voice soft, a faint laugh following her words.

Carmy glanced at her, subconsciously lowering his cigarette as guilt weighed in his eyes. "If it bothers you, I can stop…"

"I’d look at those people with disgust, judging them, like I was better than them," she continued, her gaze distant, a sad smile tugging at her lips—one Carmy had learned to appreciate, despite its melancholy. She was broke, like him."I was so stupid. They didn’t deserve that."

"So what made you change your mind?" he asked, hesitant.

"I didn’t," she added, drawing a laugh from him. "Cigarettes are terrible, but at least they’re not as miserable as vaping or using needles."

"To the classics," he joked, raising his cigarette like a champagne glass, placing it poetically between his cracked lips, the cold air and dehydration of the night evident.

"But..." She took a breath, the warmth of her exhale mixing with the cheap cocoa butter on her lips. "You’re the only exception."

He smiled weakly. Her hair bounced as she looked at him, golden curls, eyes a deep blue—matching the sorrow of the world reflected in his tired gaze. Carmy was angelic, celestial. No image or sculpture could truly capture his beauty. That pure innocence, which wasn’t sensual but somehow carried desire.

"Thank you." He smiled, finishing his last drag before tossing the cigarette to the ground and stomping it out with his foot. "But I really should quit. I’m just using it as a crutch."

"I can’t judge you. I buy expensive skincare, thinking it’ll make up for a good night’s sleep and healthy food." She joked, and he laughed—just for a second, everything felt right. "Carmy."

"What?" He looked at her, the neon lights from The Bear shining on her face. Two dreams collided in that moment, competing for space in his heart. Drowning in the blue glow of the city’s decorations.

"I love you."

And then he froze. Like the storm inside him had suddenly calmed, as if he were floating on still waters. No cigarette, drug, morphine or any crutch could compare to that moment. The world stopped. It was the first time in years he felt peace.

"I love you too. A lot."

When he was with her, everything felt perfect. This was where he wanted to be. For the first time, he didn’t want to run from himself anymore, because she was there to embrace his mess. And that was what made Carmy Berzatto, Carmy.

taglist:

@aquazero divider

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fandumb-whimsey · 6 months ago

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Scarecrow Leg Observations/Headcanons

aka I thought about it too much and now it's everyone else's problem.

(important note: I am not in the medical field and I learned/looked up a lot of this with the help of Dr. Google)

The leg brace seems like a simple detail which can be overlooked in the larger design. On the surface, it's pretty straight forward: leg got damaged and now needs an orthopedic brace to function. This in and of itself is interesting since the artist undoubtedly referenced actual braces, specifically old ones, to fit Scarecrow's aesthetic:

This is a running theme with him; he seems to favor old, antique items and will repair things (like the use of duct tape or zigzag stitching for tears on his costume) before replacing them, which fits an image of someone coming from a background of poverty. Not entirely important to the conversation, just an interesting aside.

There is official material which states his leg is "permanently broken", which is probably the easiest, most succinct way to state this issue, but it's not entirely an accurate way to put it. If a leg is considered broken beyond repair, it's likely to be amputated. Bones which don't heal correctly the first time can be broken again and realigned to heal properly, often through surgery with the use of pins, rods, plates, and/or screws. However, "permanently broken" could also be implying he has suffered irreparable nerve damage which affects the use of the leg (more on that in a moment). One possibility: The bones in Scarecrow's leg do not heal properly due to the severity of his fractures likely needing surgery. Unable to access such resources after his run-in with Croc, this results in a malunion. In his case, the misalignment could be subtle as there is no obvious bend or twist in his leg, but still causes problems which requires use of a brace.

Another possibility: Perhaps he is lucky and his leg does heal well. Maybe there's no malunion at all. Unfortunately, whether the bones mend together well or not, evidence strongly implies that it was broken seriously enough that it damaged his peroneal nerve, leading to muscle weakness and foot drop, which necessitates the use of the brace to function.

If you look closely, you can see there is additional support around Scarecrow's ankle that would otherwise prevent rotation of that joint. You can see this in the game when he circles Batman on the airship:

youtube

When he takes a step with his good leg, the foot remains more parallel to the floor. Compare that to the foot in the brace, where the toes point upward with each stride due to being in a fixed position. I feel this is a strong indication of him having lasting damage here (such as foot drop) and part of why the leg brace is vital to his mobility (and undoubtedly one of many reasons why he's so furious at Batman).

Something like this often has trickle down effects. Having to compensate for a weaker limb can throw the body off balance, especially if it's a leg. This can create joint and back pain outside of (or in addition to) the issues related to the initial trauma. Combined with the other things he has had to deal with, there is something to be said of Scarecrow's tenacity. He is very driven and ambitious, even if it's the pure, seething drive for vengeance which causes him to persevere. It's a quality one can admire. :)

The rambling ends here, thanks for reading. And an extra big thanks to a very special someone who, without their help, none of this would be possible...I'm of course talking about my guy KILLER CROC for going absolutely feral in those Asylum sewers, really gave Jonny here a spooky glow-up, am I right?

Pictured: Scarecrow regretting his fear toxin frivolity into the sewers.

#enjoy the rambling #jonathan crane #scarecrow #arkham scarecrow #not much going on here but there's some interesting tidbits to chew on

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raynewolferune · 9 months ago

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Meta Jazz, the Arkham Intern Therapist Pt 2.1

Note: The writing bug bit me while wading through the comments and replies so you guys get more! 😁 Special thanks to @the-scarecrow-of-aus & @starlightcat04 for helping spark this continuation!

Also, so you're not confused, this part is from Kon's POV and backtracks to before the Bane incident to explain how Kon started going undercover in Arkham. Pt 2.2 has the Bane incident from Kon's POV.

~*~*~

When Kon got the call from Tim asking if he'd be willing to do a favor for him, he hadn't expected it to be an undercover assignment in the infamous Arkham Asylum itself.

"You want me to do what?" He asked staring at Tim in disbelief once he reached the Nest to debrief.

"Go undercover as a new guard in Arkham." Tim repeated with a deadpan expression looking over his shoulder at Kon from his computer chair. Holy fuck, his eyebags were bad.

"Have you slept in the past week, Tim?" Kon asked, taking in his best friend's appearance.

Tim frowned at the question.

"I don't see how that's relevant but yes." He answered, heartbeat unchanging. Which didn't really mean anything since it was Tim but Kon decided he'd believe him.

For now.

Kon sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Okay, I'll do it." He said. "Can you tell me why we need someone undercover at least?"

Tim eyes widened, startled by the question like he was surprised Kon didn't know yet even though Tim hadn't told him yet. Okay, deep breaths, calm down, Tim clearly hasn't slept in at least two days. Kon coached himself as his temper flared up at the evidence that Tim wasn't taking care of himself again. All the Supers agreed: sometimes you just wish you could beat some sense into the Bats and make them take care of themselves like normal human beings.

"Ah. Right." Tim said, turning back to the computer and pulling up some files as he explained. "Two thing have occured within roughly fifteen days of each other that together are rather suspicious. First, Dr. Thomas Rylie, Jonathan Crane's undergraduate roommate and classmate throughout undergrad and grad school, was hired to work as one of the new in house psychiatrists at Arkham Asylum. They also got their doctorates from the same school during the same time frame and both focused on the impact fear has on the brain. Dr. Rylie's focus was on fear conditioning and Dr. Crane's focus was on fear responses." Well, that sounds suspicious.

"Second, Gotham University lost their minds and began an undergraduate and graduate internship program partnering with Arkham Asylum."

Kon went cold. They did what?

Pictures of the Asylum, University, and three people -presumably Scarecrow, Dr. Rylie, and a young woman- filled the computer screen now.

"The internship program has only one applicant so far and she'd already started working at the Arkham. Her name is Jasmine Fenton and her background is...sparse, to say the least." Tim turned in his chair to face Kon.

"I'm too recognizable in Gotham and among the rogues to successfully go undercover in Arkham so I've set you up with an apartment and ID as 'Kyle Jennings.' You're scheduled to start work at Arkham as a new guard tomorrow morning."

"Okay," Kon said with a nod. "What do you need confirmed? What are the primary objectives?" He prodded Tim again since his friend's sleep deprived brain seemed to think that was enough information for debriefing. It wasn't. Definitely not. A lot was implied but it wouldn't be the first time Tim had completely different intentions than what Kon had understood from his briefing. Sleep deprived Tim frequently assumed others could read his mind or something. Sleep deprived Tim was wrong.

"We need to determine if Dr. Rylie is here working for Scarecrow as part of some new scheme. We need to determine if Jasmine Fenton is complicit. We need to know if Gotham U is also in on it. And we need to find out what exactly Scarecrow is the planning." Tim stated automatically as he ticked each one off on his fingers.

"Got it. Guess I'll head over to my new apartment then and start prepping for tomorrow." Kon said, heading towards the exit. Tim hummed in agreement waving a hand in his direction as he left. That dumbass was probably already absorbed in the next case. Kon sighed, hopefully Tim would at least pass out sometime later tonight.

~*~*~

Kon's first day at Arkham wasn't anything special. He didn't see Jasmine, Dr. Rylie, or Scarecrow. He didn't see any rogues or doctors at all. It was just a really Gotham kind of orientation.

"This is where we keep a cache of stun grenades, long-range scope rifles, tranquilizer rounds, and rubber bullets." His new supervisor and guide through orientation, Alex Fhizer, said as he showed Kon how to access, inventory, lock, and re-conceal the cache. "Everytime you pass by a cache on patrol, you will check the inventory again and sign off on it with the date and time. If anything is different from the previous inventory entry, you will immediately radio the tower and the island will be put on lockdown." Greyish Hazel eyes peered out of a weathered face staring Kon down. "You will never neglect to inventory a cache while on patrol. You will never neglect to report an inventory discrepancy. The first time you do you will be fired immediately and you can count yourself damn lucky if that's all that happens to you."

Fhizer was intense, man.

"Yes, Sir." Kon answered. Fhizer's hard look lasted another long moment before the older man gave a firm nod and continued showing Kon the ropes.

~*~*~

The second day was no where near as chill as the first. Hell, his brain was already starting to warp, there hadn't been anything chill about that orientation.

Kon started his second day by boarding the Arkham transport bus with the rest of the staff and early morning visitors to the island. That was where he saw Jasmine Fenton in the flesh for the first time.

She has got to be part Amazonian, was his first thought upon seeing her. She was around 6ft tall with a thick mane of red hair tightly braided reaching all the way down to her waist. Jasmine was wearing teal stud earrings, a silver bangle type bracelet on her left wrist, a white blouse, black slacks, and black flats. She carried a small, clear purse that only held a small notepad, pen, house key, chapstick, and a thin teal wallet that presumably contained her IDs, debit cards, and a small amount of cash. Damn, she was tall.

Kon's concentration was broken by the quiet sound of metal crunching slightly beneath his fingers. He immediately loosened his grip on the hand rail, checking for damage with a wince. He breathed a soft sigh of relief when he saw the damage was almost entirely unnoticeable to the naked eye. He'd have to mind his strength more closely. Kon was too used to the farm and facilities that were all reinforced to handle casual use from people with super strength.

Tim's notes indicated Arkham wasn't reinforced for super strength anywhere. Not even along the outer walls. The facility had opted to use suppression collars on their meta inmates instead since they were cheaper and easier to repair and replace according to the official reports. However, Tim's notes had also mentioned that Arkham had reinforced the outer walls to account for super strength at one point. They'd poured nearly every dime the facility could spare into the project for months until the Joker himself had taken it personally. The madman had absolutely obliterated the reinforced outer walls until no part of them remained standing. Given Joker had destroyed the walls without having any meta powers at all and his history of viciously attacking -damn near mauling- anyone that tried to put him in a straight jacket, Kon didn't really blame Arkham for stopping while they were ahead.

Kon looked up as the bus jolted to a stop. The other passengers filing off around him. He watched as Jasmine Fenton was met by Dr. Rylie in front of the bus as he waited to disembark.

"Ms. Jasmine!" Dr. Rylie greeted her enthusiastically with a broad open grin and beaming eyes. He reached towards her with both arms, hands open and she reached back. Their right hands clasped as their left hands landed on the other's upper arms as the two greeted one another openly. Kon wasn't very familiar with intern-mentor relationships nor what would be considered normal or professional for them, but it looked like a rather affectionate greeting for them having been strangers two weeks ago. That was strange, wasn't it? Was Tim right to be worried about them?

"Ms. Jasmine is the first and only applicant for Dr. Rylie, Director Keener, and Dean Byle's hairbrained idea to hire more doctors for this place." One of the older guards that had been standing just behind him on the bus explained having apparently noticed Kon watching the pair.

"They just seemed rather affectionate for Gotham." Kon shrugged dismissively as he turned to look over his shoulder at his new colleague. The shorter man laughed.

"A bit, yeah." He agreed. "I think Dr. Rylie is just desperate for this program to work out." He continued as they finally managed to get off the bus. Dr. Rylie and Ms. Fenton were gone now. "Pretty much everyone's been treating her like a princess."

"That doesn't seem fair to everyone else." Kon commented, dropping back a bit to let the older man lead the way to the guards room for morning debriefing and to get their assignments. He'd already memorized the layouts but 'Kyle Jennings' shouldn't have yet.

"Who cares about fair as long as it works?" The guard answered. "If treating her like a princess scores more interns for the program in the long run, and if one intern every year ends up interested in sticking around, I'll be happy to cater to every single one of them." He confessed, stopping in the middle of the hall to turn and face Kon directly. Kon glimpsed the name Ryans as the silver name badge flashed the briefly reflecting the overhead lights. "You non-gothamites just don't get it. We're desperate for whatever help we can get."

"That's why I applied here." Kon lied. "Going to school across the bay, I heard a lot about what went down over here while I was in college. I want to help."

Ryans gave a short solemn nod then turned and led the rest of the way to the break room.

~*~*~

Day four undercover was when Kon officially met Jasmine Fenton.

Everything had been going well so far with his undercover assignment. He'd settled in to the role of Kyle Jennings, been getting along well with his new coworkers including Ryans and Fhizer, and hadn't yet managed to screw up inventorying the caches during the outer patrol loops. That being said, Kon was having other issues.

The worst part of being an unstable Kryptonian clone was that his strength tended to fluctuate. It normally wasn't much of an issue when he was surrounded by reinforced everything in his daily life but here at Arkham it was becoming a problem. Case in point, Kon thought to himself with an exhausted groan as his freshly made coffee mug shattered in his hand.

"Oh come on." He sighed snatching a handful of paper towels from the counter and bending to wipe up the coffee and ceramic shards on the floor. At least he was the only one in the room when it shattered. The door clicked softly behind him and Kon jumped twisting to look.

Jasmine Fenton stood behind him having just closed the door to the break room after entering.

"What happened here?" She asked, sounding bewildered with slightly wide eyes as she took in the mess on the floor. Thank God. She didn't see it.

"Guess I was a bit more tired than I thought." He said with a forced laugh in order to hide his nerves. "Slipped right through my fingers."

She nodded, accepting his words at face value.

"I've done that more than a few times close to finals." She admitted. "You guys have 10 hour shifts, right? You must be exhausted. When's your next day off?"

"The day after tomorrow." Kon said. "This is day 3 for me since orientation doesn't count."

"You get 2 days off followed by an on-call day, right?" She asked.

"Right," Kon agreed. "AKA 2 days of freedom and a day chained to the Bowery." He joked.

"Absolutely terrible, they may as well put an ankle monitor on you." She cracked back grinning. Kon snickered. The door opened again.

"I see you found another non-gothamite here." Dr. Rylie said striding into the break room with a wide grin.

"Sounds like that makes three of us." Kon agreed. Outside of Joker, he had never seen a gothamite grin that wide in his life.

"Dr. Thomas Rylie, a pleasure to meet you." Dr. Rylie introduced himself holding out his hand to shake. Kon shook his hand as gently as possible, mindful his strength was on the fritz.

"Kyle Jennings, nice to meet you. I just started as a guard earlier this week." He said then held his hand out to shake Jasmine's.

"Jasmine Fenton, I'm an intern therapist. This is my second week here." She greeted with a warm smile shaking Kon's hand. She didn't say anything about being glad to meet him, Kon noted. It wasn't exactly strange behavior but something made him take note of it anyway. Like by not saying it she was saying she hadn't decided whether meeting him was a good or bad thing yet. Dr. Rylie didn't seem to notice anything off with the interaction though as he went about making his own coffee. The three of them made idle small talk as they made their own coffees. Once his new cup was ready, Kon bid them both goodbye and went on his way. While they were his main objective, lingering too long this early into their aquantiantship would probably be strange.

He had several other small friendly interactions with both of them over the next few days. Taking the time for greetings, small talk, and sharing small bits of casual background info from Kyle Jennings's past to encourage them both to open up to him. He also broke a clipboard, two more coffee cups, several pens, and a doorknob during that time as his strength continued to fluctuate. The doorknob had been particularly embarrassing. He had gone to open the door for Jasmine when he saw her with her arms full of files and somehow managed to twist it in such a way that the screws holding it in place sheered off and the knob came off in his hand. Collins, his partner for building patrol that day, burst out laughing hysterically as Kon stared at the doorknob in horror.

"No worries, man." Collins said, clapping Kon on the shoulder still snickering. "Someone else probably broke it and put it back so they wouldn't get scolded or something."

"Yeah," Kon said with a nervous laugh. "That must be what happened."

Jasmine's eyes flicked between the two of them then she grinned.

"And here I thought you just really hated that door." She teased Kon. He felt his face heat up as Collins laughed at him again.

"It is an ugly door." Collins agreed enthusiastically smirking.

"Terribly ugly. Hideous even," Jasmine said with a smile.

"Possibly even traumatizing to behold," Collins continued to smirk.

"You've got me. I have a deep rooted traumatic fear of metal taupe doors." Kon deadpanned ears burning. Jasmine snickered as Kon got the door open for her and they went their separate ways.

~*~*~

"What have you found so far?" Tim asked. Kon did not have the words to express how much he didn't want to be at the Nest at 3am on his first day off from undercover work. If it was anyone other than Tim he wouldn't have even answered the phone.

"Literally nothing," Kon said dryly. "I am still the newest of newbies at Arkham. I practically spent the whole week being babysat by senior guardsmen." He sighed, reminding himself that it wasn't Tim's fault that he was a little insomniac goblin and that Kon really did love his friend and would be sad if he hurt Tim's feelings. Eventually. When he woke up again in the morning. "I did start befriending them both though. It's slow going since we're in different areas but nearly being the only non-gothamites there seems to be helping me make some headway at least."

There was one other non-gothamite on staff, a medical nurse named Sharon Earley. She was in her mid-thirties and the most sour and unpleasant person Kon had had the displeasure of meeting so far on Arkham's staff. Not that Kon could blame her for that. Not when she had several large ragged scars spanning from her chin and down both of her arms from when Zsazz had gotten hold of her alone after dark her second year at Arkham. It was a damn miracle she'd survived him. Kon didn't know how she managed it but he wouldn't try to find out either. Ryans had taken him aside right before he first met Nurse Earley and warned him not to stare or ask about any of it and then explained the bare basics of what happened to her after they'd left.

Tim probably had a file with every detail of that night as well as information about Sharon Earley's life both before and after that night somewhere on his computer. The thought made Kon nauseous.

"Good, good," Tim said absently as he updated the mission file on his computer. The keys clicked so rapidly that Kon again reconsidered whether or not his best friend had super speed. "Better to keep them from suspecting than to rush in anyway."

"Exactly."

Tim continued asking questions about every little detail he could think of concerning Dr. Rylie, Jasmine Fenton, and the rogues currently in Arkham.

"They don't let me near those guys yet. I'm too new." Kon said when Tim asked if Scarecrow looked to be plotting more than usual.

"They don't?" Tim sounded surprised, going so far as to stop typing so he could turn and stare at Kon. The clone was amused to note something about his statement had managed to wake Tim up enough to be visibly shocked instead blank-faced with exhaustion.

"Of course not," Kon answered trying to keep the amusement from his voice as much as possible. "As many times as your rogues have broken out they're leary of letting new hires near them in case they're goons in disguise."

Tim sank back into his chair looking like Kon had uprooted his whole world by proving the Earth really was flat via actual science.

"That's impossible." Tim said sounding faint. "Everytime there's a mass breakout, we always hear that some of the guards helped them escape. How?..." He trailed off, eyes darting rapidly like he was tracking lines of an invisible conspiracy board in the air in front of him. Kon shrugged, uncomfortable with this new information.

"Scuttlebutt is that the people helping them escape are visitors. The guards get blamed because the goons visit wearing clothes similar to the guard uniform from a distance. All blue polo shirts and black pants look similar at a distance." Kon explained. "It also doesn't help that the guards can't really do much to stop the escape attempts since they only have stun grenades, tranquilizer darts, batons, low voltage tazers, and rubber bullets to fight back with. So as long as enough people are involved in the escape attempt at least some of them will make it out even if the guards manage to to tranquilize several of them."

Tim still looked like Kon was blowing his mind. It was such a rare experience that Kon had to continue.

"Plus the tranquilizer darts and the rubber bullets have to be fired from different hardware." Kon told him. "Which sucks because you have to carry twice the amount of weight while chasing after the escapees which slows you down and it takes longer to swap between them."

There was something similar to mystified horror spreading across his friend's face now.

"Speaking if swapping between them, they have different ranges too." Kon continued gleefully. Half because it was fun wrecking Tim's worldview and half to actually impart the information. "Batons are short-range. Tranquilializer darts and stun grenades are mid-range. Rubber bullet riffles are long-range."

"If that's all it is, WE can fund then better gear to control the inmates." Tim interrupted turning back to the computer and swiftly typing out a list of things to send Arkham. Kon shook his head.

"That won't work." He disagreed gently. "They aren't failing because of the gear itself."

Tim turned back around to face him, confused. This was not going to be a fun conversation, Kon swallowed hard and forced himself to continue.

"The problem is that if you fire the rubber bullet riffles from mid or short range you could seriously injury or even kill the patient. If they get past mid-range, you'll miss them completely using tranquilizer darts or stun grenades. If you try to use either of those at short-range it'll be bad for you whether it's because they'll get hold of you before the tranquilizer knocks them out or because you'll stun yourself too."

Comprehension and trepidation began to dawn on Tim's face. He deflated in his chair, sinking lower and lower as he stared off into nowhere.

"You also can't hit them with more than one tranquilizer dart in a four hour window because you could accidently kill them that way. That also means even though you have a baton, you typically can't do enough damage to them to keept them from escaping because that might potentially kill them." Kon said completely solemn now as he relayed the information. "Because regardless of the reputation Arkham has or what the patients have done, it is still a hospital and they are still patients."

Tim was staring directly at Kon now. Mouth open, face slack, eyes wide with a kind of numbed shock. Kon held his gaze.

"Yeah," Kon said after a moment. "Yeah, that's how I reacted too." He looked down, picking at his nails for a moment before forcing himself to stop and meet Tim's gaze again. "Phizer, my new 'boss', made sure to drill that into my head during orientation. 'Arkham's guards exist first and foremost to protect the patients. Arkham isn't supposed to be a prison. It's a medical facility. The patients are confined to the premises because their affliction has made them dangerous and they have to stay so that we can keep them and others safe from further harm. We are here to keep the patients and staff from hurting each other, themselves, or being hurt by people outside of Arkham's walls.' Not gonna lie, man." Kon said quirking a bitter grin as his did. "Hearing that kind of fucked me up a bit."

Tim sucked in a huge heaving breath then slowly let it out before he responded.

"I can't say I ever thought about it like that." He admitted in a soft strained voice. "Can't say I ever wanted to either." There was a bitter tinge to his words.

"Yeah, neither did I." Kon answered, shoulders slumping a bit. "Was there anything else you wanted to ask me? I kind of want to head back and sleep a bit."

Tim shook his head slowly.

"No, I think we're good at the moment." He said looking twice as exhausted and drained now as he did when Kon first got there. Kon nodded.

"Good night then. I'll see you later, man." He said, pushing off the wall he'd been leaning against and heading for the door.

"Be safe, Kon." Tim answered softly turning back to his computer.

#Meta Jazz Arkham Intern Therapist #Meta Jazz #Arkham Intern Therapist #MJAIT #AIT #Meta Jazz AIT #dc x dp #dcxdp #dp x dc #dpxdc #Jazz/Kon #Eventually that's the goal anyway #Side note I do not headcanon Arkham this way #But Jazz went through her 'I can fix them' stage during high school #And in my experience most people don't try to 'fix others' again after they fail the first several times #Jack & Maddie definitely weren't fixed in this story #So I couldn't see her willingly interning at Arkham if it was actually like how it is in DCU #Since the internship program is optional #Which begged the question why everyone thinks Arkham is Like That #So Kon gave you the answer #Also sorry if he's really OOC #I have never written his POV before and finding a voice for him was hard #Tim's shit got rocked #tw: cursing #my Kon curses because he's through his rebellious stage already but linguistic habits stuck around #Oh yeah #and his powers are fluctuating because the density of the smog and cloud layer over Gotham is constantly changing #my original post

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ghouljams · 2 months ago

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Okey but Gaz in my bloody valentine is so sexy. Approved. (Not that you need approval)

Here are my Gaz x My Bloody Valentine thoughts:

(spoiler they don't exactly follow the movie but I think they work well.)

Twenty years after Harry Warden's Valentine's Massacre, and the subsequent cancellation of the Valentine's dance, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick arrives in Valentine Bluffs to check out his family's mines with the intention of selling. Gaz is charming and funny, but he's also clearly an outsider and there isn't a lot of good will towards his family after they abandoned the town for London right after the Harry Warden tragedy. Not to mention the way Gaz pokes around and asks questions about the Warden murders, claiming that he's writing a book now that he's left the army.

Still, Gaz makes friends with a pretty little thing in the supermarket and learns that their mom was one of the nurses that Harry Warden killed after his rescue. He's sympathetic of course, and mentions that he's always had a fascination with Warden, that initially the story inspired him to try police work but eventually he ended up in the army.

Miners and people around town start turning up dead, butchered, and with the anniversary of the Warden Massacre coming up, people are obviously on edge. They also are pointing the finger at Gaz. He's new in town and the murders didn't start until he showed up. Gaz's pretty thing sees a Miner in a gas mask skulking around, and manages to escape his grasp with nothing but a few scrapes and bruises after witnessing the brutal murder of a town resident. Rumors begin circulating that Harry Warden is back and taking revenge on the town yet again.

Still, people are skeptical and Gaz is taken in for questioning after he is unable to provide an alibi. Gaz's pretty thing starts looking for evidence that Warden might have escaped from the asylum and is unable to find any records of him. Gaz posts bail while Pretty Thing witnesses the Miner kill a police officer who's been posted outside her house. Another chase ensues and Pretty Thing is nearly dragged to the mines before managing to escape. While running through the woods we see Pretty Thing stumble across an open grave, and finally make it out of the woods straight into Gaz's arms.

Despite Gaz's hesitance he takes Pretty Thing to the police where they file a report. The police are led to the grave where the mayor and former police chief are forced to admit that they buried Warden. With all evidence pointing towards a supernatural occurrence, Gaz is cleared of all charges. Gaz and Pretty Thing go back to Pretty's house, since Gaz's hotel room is still roped off, and have sex. Pretty Thing convinces Gaz not to sell the mine, and Gaz convinces Pretty to let him sleep over.

Gaz gets up in the middle of the night to pee, and Pretty thing hears him shout, and witnesses a spray of blood, before the Miner appears yet again and attempts to catch/kill them. During the chase Pretty Thing notices that the time on their phone is different from the one on their stove and realizes someone must have changed it. A quick calculation and a flashback reveals that given the time difference Gaz would have posted bail at least 30 minutes before the second chase.

Pretty Thing is caught by the miner and begs Gaz not to kill them, which startles the miner enough to stop him from killing them. Gaz rips off the mask with a grin and tells Pretty Thing that he knew they were smart, before knocking them out.

The credits roll, and in a small epilogue we see Gaz sitting in a helicopter with Pretty Thing passed out across his lap. The pilot asks if he got everything settled in Valentine Bluffs and Gaz tells him they'll make a killing on the movie rights.

#x reader #cod x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick #kyle garrick x reader #gaz garrick #gaz garrick x reader #gaz cod #gaz x reader #gaz call of duty #gaz mw2 #gaz modern warfare #that's my horror romance pitch I hope you liked it

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hexedwinchester · 1 month ago

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Supernatural S05E11 Sam, Interrupted

Huh! You know that starting scene where Dean tries to get Sam admitted to the psychiatrist facility and instead of lying they tell the truth about the apocalypse? So not only Dean didn't say that the apocalypse was his fault too, he straight up exposed Sam's demon blood drinking habit to a stranger?? Just a few episodes ago a couple of hunters tried to force feed Sam demon blood and here is big brother Dean broadcasting it to a doctor??

when we talk about Sam's loss of bodily autonomy, how come no one mentions the gropey examination of the nurse/wraith?

Doesn't Sam just look extra delicious in this episode?! I don't know if it's the setting or the hair or the minimal layer or that white t shirt but oh my damn I wanna dip him in chocolate and eat him up

Not surprised Dean's shrink is a hot doctor

Sam, honey, no! We don't poke swabs into holes found on dead bodies or cut open their skull 💀

Pudding! 🤣🤣🤣🤣

Wendy wanting Sam for all right reasons! Right there with ya, sis! (Although, that's twice Sam got assaulted, so there's that)

I love Sam's rage arc in this episode. Now for most of the show we have seen Dean being the one with anger issues but I found Sam's rage quite interesting. The whole mental asylum effect aside, but Sam's rage is more self destructive in nature unlike Dean where Sam ends up being his punching bag. All the wrong decisions he made affected him more than anyone else: like drinking demon blood for example

Loopy Sam is so cute! Like a toasty marshmallow!! Speaking of loopy Sam, i always felt Sam telling Dean it's okay and he still loves him felt kinda out of place until I saw this scene twice. Just before Sam says that Dean tells him that he made a mistake and he'll handle it. That got me thinking, anytime Sam screwed up Dean wouldn't let him hear the end of it. So Sam is basically just trying to treat him in a way he probably would have wanted to be treated..

Anyone remember that post I made about Jared using different voices for his character?? It's very evident when you see the loopy Sam scene. It's not Sam's voice he is talking in, it's more Jared, loud, chirpy, rough around the edges

Boop! And that cute chuckle that follows it 🥰

So Sam and Rowena both have booped Dean. How come no one ever booped Sam?! Sucha cute boopable nose he has got

That conversation between Sam and the doctor is so tragic, i absolutely love it. It's so sad that everyone points out that Sam is not human, he's a freak and it's even worse when Sam admits to it. I hate it so much that I love it!

What's also interesting is that right after the doc points out that Sam is barely human, his brain sort of holds onto that thought and then when he hallucinates everyone is calling him a freak and blaming it all on him. Kinda like the wraith's effect amped it up

His "leave me alones" are so tragic. Oh Sam!

Y'all don't underStand just how important Sam Winchester locked up in a padded cell is to me. I need multiple fics written on that theme. Somebody write it!!!

what will it take for someone to get a bigger bad for this man?! 😭 If it wasn't for the bent knees his footsies would hang off

Dean being squeamish about the wraith's -stinger is it?- Will never be not funny

It's so freaking sad that everyone gaslights Sam into believing that the problem is him. He is inherently bad. Oh Sam!

Dean, sweetie, I know you mean well but please keep your advice to yourself. Shoving or burying down that crap is not best way to cope

Where is the "I want him now, he's larger" gif when you need it?!

#sam winchester #dean winchester #Supernatural #Spn #S05E11 #Sam interrupted #Sam girl #I love this episode

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see-arcane · 5 months ago

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"I have been thinking, and have made up my mind as to what is best. If I did simply follow my inclining I would do now, at this moment, what is to be done; but there are other things to follow, and things that are thousand times more difficult in that them we do not know. This is simple. She have yet no life taken, though that is of time; and to act now would be to take danger from her for ever. But then we may have to want Arthur, and how shall we tell him of this? [...] he may think that in some more mistaken idea this woman was buried alive; and that in most mistake of all we have killed her. He will then argue back that it is we, mistaken ones, that have killed her by our ideas; and so he will be much unhappy always. Yet he never can be sure; and that is the worst of all. And he will sometimes think that she he loved was buried alive, and that will paint his dreams with horrors [...] He, poor fellow, must have one hour that will make the very face of heaven grow black to him; then we can act for good all round and send him peace.

Thinking about all of this in the context of Van Helsing recollecting and planning ahead at once.

He is thinking about what he saw with Jonathan here. He also is thinking about Dracula and his very wide and still unaddressed threat.

Jonathan was a proven wreck because he was left uncertain of his own senses, never knowing for sure whether the horrors he experienced were real or not until outside evidence confirmed it. Simply knowing that the nightmare was real restored his sanity, his clarity, his strength...and his will to aid Van Helsing in targeting the Count and his schemes.

Cut to this scene. Van Helsing does have good intentions here, and they are sensible. Arthur needs to know what's become of Lucy before they take any slaying action. He needs to know for his own sanity's sake--No, we did not accidentally "The Fall of the House of Usher" her, she was not buried alive, she's a vampire, see?--for closure's sake, and for practicality's sake. Emphasis on practicality.

"But then we may have to want Arthur, and how shall we tell him of this?"

Dr. Abe is already mentally blasting Victorian Avengers music in his head. He knows that numbers (and maybe a handy bit of bankrolling) are going to be necessary against a Vampire who's not just ambling around chomping kids, but actively planning some wider takeover of the country, possibly preceding a steady consumption of humanity itself. One professor, an asylum superintendent, a solicitor and a typist are a good start! But a moneyed and vengeful lord, give or take a spare badass cowboy, would also be nice to have on board. The reason he holds off on putting down the Bloofer Lady here is smart.

...while camping out on the following night completely alone in her territory to keep watch is less so. But also in character. And, I very, very, very grudgingly admit this, indicative of just how and why he will behave/lead the way he does in future dates once Mina and Jonathan come into the picture in Purfleet. Whenever it is feasible, Abraham van Helsing puts himself on the line first with the stalwart youths at his back in decreasing levels of 'I worry for your safety!'

Ironically, for the guy showing the most forethought and sense at the time, he's going to be the impetus for the most senseless part of the team's whole plan--and it'll be the exact same MO that should have stuck after learning from Lucy and Jonathan's cases.

#Dr. Abe buddy #you're taking two steps forward and about to cartwheel three steps back and it drives me insane every time #abraham van helsing #dracula #re: dracula #dracula daily #dracula daily spoilers

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lizardsfromspace · 1 year ago

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Stumbling across that weird fanatically anti-transmasc cult again and this tweet really sums it up better than anything

Trans women are defined entirely by misery and tragedy. Historical trans women all died in asylums. That's why Christine Jorgensen, the first trans woman to get gender-affirming surgery in the US, tragically *squints* spent decades as a in-demand public speaker and headlining entertainer. Because trans women literally can't experience anything other than misery

I have a book from the 70s with an ad for a speaker's agency that lists her alongside Rod Serling and Cicely Tyson. And underneath Erich von Daniken, which is irrelevant to my point but really weird. She was not wasting away in an asylum. Many trans women led tragic lives; but many is not all, and there are historic examples, even really famous ones, of trans women who were happy

Why would they erase that to tell people trans women all suffer tragic fates and must suspect everyone oh yeah bc they're a cult preying on the vulnerable and trying to convince them they need protection (but oddly enough from other trans people more than anyone else?)

The trans man thing is a reference to Victor Barker, who was, indeed, a trans man and a fascist in the 1920s. But I think another key point is, uh, that was one fuckin' guy. Why are they tacking that on, except if they're trying to imply trans men are secretly fascists? But that'd be an absurd thing to belieTHEY BELIEVE THAT. That is a real thing these creeps believe now and are seriously implying on the reg

"You must be suspicious that trans men are fascists" is now part of their ever-evolving litany of apparently endless evil from transmascs who...called a internet famous trans woman an asshole? Made a bad tweet once? Literally anything a trans man ever does (or doesn't do) transforms into a collective action on the part of all trans men in their minds. Trans men aren't just not allies in their mind, but are comically evil Saturday morning cartoon villains

Also, of course, the insistence that trans men had it much easier than trans women. If all trans women's lives weren't misery, all trans men's lives weren't happy, either. This insistence they had it "easy" is giving James Somerton on Radclyffe Hall

This is, again, A Single Guy. You have proved two white trans men are fascists, one in the 1920s and one now. Maybe. Maybe some other factor is at play, some other identity shared, by these two men, and the majority of fascists. "Why do people think I hate trans men?" says a group with a list of trans men they hate they can trot out instantly

I think people are just primed to think evidence of one member of a marginalized group doing a shitty thing is proof they all do it, or to go "that's just one guy?". In another life this jabroni wouldn't be posting about how Mao would be a Baeddel (???), they'd be sharing Fox News stories about crimes to declare we need to deport all Muslims and Mexicans. It's the same psychology, just rotted by internet discourse instead of a more traditional reactionary ideology

Also you may wonder "wait, I'm a trans woman, and trans men calling me a Nazi happens quite rarely, actually". I'm a trans woman on the internet and trans men calling me a Nazi has happened a grand zero times. So you may then wonder why, precisely, this sweet, innocent bean who's never done anything wrong is called a Nazi so regularly they think it's a universal problem.

Anyway they tweeted out the Fourteen Words, but they said gay women instead of white children. Truly, how could anyone ever get the idea they're a Nazi

#long post #transphobia cw #transandrophobia

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gunsandspaceships · 2 months ago

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MCU Timeline: Iron Man 2. Part 1

Iron Man (2008) Timeline

The Incredible Hulk (2008) Timeline

This timeline is based on dates from the movie and not on Fury's Big Week (see the reason here).

Here's the classification of date consistency in the MCU Phase 1 (within the movies):

IM1, Thor, CA:TFA and The Avengers - good. Almost no issues.

The Incredible Hulk - some issues and a few barely visible wrong dates.

IM2 - absolute mess.

Let's start by finding out the month and year of the main events of the movie.

Month: May. What evidence we have: 1) one of the events is Tony's birthday, May 29; 2) The Monaco Grand Prix always takes place in May. The Historique races (which we see in the movie) take place before the main Grand Prix - in early May; 3) one of the screens in Tony's lab says it's May; 4) the weather and people's clothing also correspond to May.

Year: 2010. This is where things get really confusing. Because in the movie there are at least 3 versions of what year the events take place: 1) version of written sources (documents, computer screens) that consistently point to 2010; 2) Pepper Potts' version (IM1 took place "last year", which was February-May 2008, so IM2, she says, is May 2009); 3) Justin Hammer's version, who is absolutely sure that Tony became Iron Man only 6 months ago, so according to him it is November-December 2008, which contradicts everything else. Since most sources, as well as logic, point to 2010, this is the most likely version.

Now let's move on to the timeline.

The first f*ck up in the movie (chronologically): Anton Vanko's date of birth is mentioned once, and it is February 15, 1943. This is literally impossible. According to the same screen, in the early 1950s, Anton was already 20-30 years old and was a scientist at the Electrotechnical Institute in the USSR. More realistic year would be ~1925.

Early 1950s - Anton Vanko works on nuclear energy in the USSR.

October 1963 - Vanko defects from the USSR and seeks asylum in the United States.

Here we have the second f*ck up in props - the newspaper says 1966, but JARVIS said it's 1963, which is also confirmed by the date on Tony's screen. JARVIS's version is more realistic, so we'll go with that. And come on, Marvel. Citizenship right away? Why not the presidency?

June 26, 1967 - Anton is found guilty of espionage and deported.

August 2 or February 15, 1969 - Ivan Vanko is born.

Ivan's prison tattoo on his fingers is his birth year. There are several references to Ivan's birth date in the movie, and they are all different. So we'll use his tattoo, as it's a more reliable source. About the month and day - we have two options. The JARVIS search results give us 15.02, but as you may have noticed, this is the same day as Anton's birthday in the same search results. So I doubt that they were both born on the same day of the same month. The prop guys just put the same numbers in and forgot about it. Good f*cking job. Another possibility is the date on Vanko's fake passport - August 2. Since the document is fake, I have no idea if any of the dates on it are real. And it's unlikely that anyone would need his DOB anyway. Do we have any Ivan fans here?

~1970 - Anton Vanko is sent to Siberia for 20 years.

May 29, 1970 - Anthony Edward Stark is born 🎉

September 15, 1973 - Howard films the Intro to Stark Expo 1974 and the message for Tony.

1974 - the last Stark Expo until 2010.

~1990 - Anton is released and returns to Moscow.

December 2, 1993 - Ivan is sentenced to 15 years in prison for selling weapons-grade plutonium to Pakistan.

Late 1990s (before 2000) - Virginia Potts becomes Pepper, and Tony's PA.

May 25, 2008 - "I am Iron Man" press conference.

August 2008 - an article about Tony's arc reactor in Scientific American.

Note: There is a real issue of this magazine from August 2008 with the same articles except for the article on the arc reactor.

December 2008:

After serving 15 years, Ivan is released from prison.

Anton Vanko dies.

If anyone doubts that it's May in the screenshot, you're right. This is how winter looks like, not May. Yes, even in Russia, Marvel.

On TV they say Tony is giving the "I am Iron Man" press conference "Now", but this is impossible: 1) As we have established, it was on May 25, not in winter. 2) In Moscow it would be night (remember time zones). But we were clearly shown that it was daytime. 3) This is a live broadcast for CNN, not for Russian news. 4) It can't even be "Live" and "Breaking News" at the same time because he hasn't even said the words yet! Come on, Marvel. Logic was lost during the production of this movie.

So, based on the notes above, I conclude the following: 1) The news is not new. It is a recording. 2) The first scene takes place in December 2008.

A few days later - Ivan begins work on his arc reactor.

Here's the third f*ck up:

On the Forbes cover, which we already saw in IM1, the date "January 1990" appeared, which was not there before. But this is not the main issue. The main one is that Howard was still alive in 1990 and ran his company himself. So Tony could not "take reign at 21" at that time. He wasn't even 21 yet, and he couldn't be. Marvel shouldn't have changed the cover in the first place. January also contradicts other sources that show Stane was interim CEO for several months, not just one.

December 2008 - Tony is named "Time's Person of the Year".

Note: This is an edited cover of the actual "Time's Person of the Year 2008".

December 2008 - December 2009 - Vanko works on his reactor.

May 2008 - May 2010:

All the following events:

Some details of the events from the newspapers on Vanko's wall:

Tony saves a mother of three from a fire.

January 2009 - Tony saves the crew of a Russian submarine ("miracle submarine").

Pepper gives an interview about Tony, the suit and her figure (very important).

August 5, 2009 - Hammer tests his suit in Reno, Nevada.

September 13, 2009 - Saudi Arabia tests a prototype of its suit.

Early April (snow) 2010 - Vanko receives a fake passport and a ticket to the Monaco Grand Prix.

Shortly before May 2010 - Natasha is "hired" by Stark Industries.

December 2009 - May 2010 - Vanko works on his exoskeleton and whips.

Here we come to the infamous "6 months later" problem. And the main question: 6 months from what? a) "I am Iron Man" in IM1? b) Anton's death in December 2008 or c) The day Ivan finished working on his reactor?

As we have already established, it cannot be 6 months from IM1 (May 2008), as it contradicts literally everything. The date of Hammer's test also shows that it can't be 6 months from IM1 because there was already more than 6 months between the press conference and the test. So Justin should do some fact checking before his speech next time.

6 months since Anton's death (December 2008) would fit better into the timeline. It would also match the month of Tony's birthday and Pepper's version of what year IM2 takes place:

But it's still the wrong year. All other sources give us 2010, not 2009.

And finally, the best version is 6 months from the day Ivan finished his reactor. We already know that IM2 is mostly set in May 2010, so we just count back 6 months and get December 2009. It took Ivan a whole year to build what Tony was able to build in a few days in a cave and with a serious medical condition.

Part 2

#marvel #mcu #tony stark #iron man #iron man 2 #mcu timeline #pepper potts #ivan vanko #justin hammer

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mxr1na · 5 months ago

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✧˖°ʚ🍵ɞ♡Sicktember Day 1[I’m not hungover, I’m just sick]Jeckole Angst- Class of ‘09✧˖°ʚ🍓ɞ♡

A/N: Day 1 of @sicktember’s 2024 Event! I really had fun doing this even though it was a time crunch cause I was just aware of the event like yesterday, but it’s fine. 🌊🫧Info!🫧🌊 730~ words

Inadequate writing lol

See here! to participate in the Sicktember event!

See here! to find all my Sicketmber works!

Tw!- Heavy swearing, drug abuse + mention of vomit. Viewer discretion is advised.

Enjoy ^^

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷🚬ˏˋ°•*⁀➷🚬ˏˋ°•*⁀➷🚬ˏˋ°•*⁀➷🚬ˏˋ°•*⁀➷🚬ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ “Bitch why the fuck you haven’t been answering my calls? I know you don’t want to do the project, but I need this to graduate high school-”

Jecka slams open Nicole’s bedroom door, an obscene amount of annoyance washed away as she spots the brunette rotting in her bed in the humid room, which feels like being in a gym locker room.

Somehow, Nicole still looks appealing to the male demographic even if she is sickly pale with eyebags so deep you could’ve mistaken them for potholes.

She coughs, and smiles wanly at her. “Hey Jecka,”

“Oh shit are you okay?” Immediately at Nicole’s side, Jecka looks at her, feeling the creases and wrinkles under Nicole’s eyes. Her ebbing annoyance spikes up again.

“Ugh, did you try that MySpace challenge, the one where they’d snort a foot long line of whatever drug they could find? You know people actually died from that shit right?”

“When did you keep up with the news? No, I’m just down with the flu. I’m not that crazy,”

“The Spanish Flu?! Yeah right, don’t fucking lie to me. No one looks this bad when having the flu. Where’s the stash?”

“Well I am!” Nicole snaps. “I get sick easily.I’ve been convulsing and throwing up for hours, couldn’t you tell?” She points to the evident putrid vomit bucket, almost filled to the brim with puke beside the bed.

“Ew, shouldn’t your mom, like, empty that?” Jecka scrunches up her face.

“No, she’s too busy stocking up her medicine cabinet with beta blocker to care… Speaking of, can you get me some Paracetamol from there? Everywhere hurts like hell,”

Jecka sighs “Knowing you, you’d probably mix it with bedside stash of Xanax, crush it up and snort it, so no, stay hurting like hell,”

“Fuck you, whore,”

Jecka rolls her eyes and sits down on the side of the bed.

“That being said, I’m really concerned about you Nicole. This life isn't good for you…”

“Who are you? My friend or a guidance counsellor that isn’t trying to fuck me?”

“Okay you know what? Fuck you, I’ll just tell you straight. You’re fucked up and need help, and not even the cool sexy way that people fantasise about. The way people are being put in the mental asylum fucked up. And I’m sorry I can’t be like you, or even want to be like you, bu-”

“Oh don’t make me laugh. We’ve popped percs and have done drugs together, don’t act all high and mighty now, when you yourself is as bad as I am,”

Jecka hesitates, scrambling her brain to say something as equally smart as her statement only 10 seconds ago.

“Well- atleast I don’t take the illegal shit, just fucking around with kid stuff to blow off some steam! You know, the ones that literally every high schooler would take in high school?”

“Oh, just because what I use is illegal makes me worse than you huh? The outcome is the same, isn’t it? The reason we take it is the same, is it not? Using it to get off some steam. So when I use an alternative you don’t like, then, I’m in the wrong?” Nicole’s face is manic, insane, testing Jecka’s will to not just bend her back over to agree with Nicole, like she usually does.

“Stop trying to act all philosophical and shit to guilt me into agreeing with you. I’m just trying to help,” A tentative step backwards. Look at you Jecka! Making progress!

“I don’t need your fucking help Jessica.” Nicole chucks the bucket at Jecka, who swiftly dodges it, all but some vomit finding its new home on her shirt.

After that, she just…

Snaps.

Jecka shoves Nicole, making her hit the headboard, earning a bunch of her hair being roughly pulled, almost ensuring her to be left with a bald patch on her scalp.

“What, the FUCK NICOLE? I WANT TO HELP BECAUSE WE ARE FRIENDS! WHAT, JUST BECAUSE I’LL BEND MY BACK OVER FOR MOST THINGS YOU ASK ME TO DO MAKES ME YOUR LITTLE PLAYTHING? YOU’RE FUCKED UP AND NEED TO BE LOCKED UP!”

“I DONT NEED YOUR HELP, AND I NEVER DID. JUST FUCK OFF!”

Ouch. That must’ve stung. But if it hurt Jecka, no evidence of it showed on her face.

“OKAY I WILL” Jecka slams the door shut, a gross trail of footprints tailing behind her.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷🚬ˏˋ°•*⁀➷🚬ˏˋ°•*⁀➷🚬ˏˋ°•*⁀➷🚬ˏˋ°•*⁀➷🚬ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Mxr1na 2024. Do NOT copy, rewrite or claim work as your own. If you see my work elsewhere, please send an ask :3

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hangesdarling · 1 month ago

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Hii,can I request headcanons for a psychiatrist hange zoe x insane reader

(Hope this fits your rules)

insane as you are — h. zoë

PAIRING. Hange Zoë x female reader

SYNOPSIS. Your psychiatrist helped you escape the asylum.

CONTENT. blood, stabbing, angst, murder, inaccuracies (i can do smth worse than this, let's do that next time)

A/N. I shortcircuited writing this: Hange is insane too with an "I can fix her" syndrome. billy russo and krista dumont from the punisher s2 kinda inspired me to write it like this

"This is somewhat unoriginal of you. I was betting you'd come up with something better," Hange heaved a grunt, trying to keep the knife you drove through their shoulder in place. The gun you stole from the guard outside your door had four missing bullets, not even one caught you in the encounter—such a shame. Your eyes flicked over their slumped form against the wall.

"Sorry for putting you in such a situation, Hans," you walked over and kissed their forehead. "I'll see you later, okay?"

"Don't get killed on your way out."

"Won't be."

It wasn't a great plan to begin with. Just because you were locked away in some cheap standard comic asylum doesn't mean all the guards are stupid. You weren't superhuman either so that's a far stretch of a difference from the escape stories you read about on your stay there.

What irritated you the most was probably the bullet that gashed the surface of your cheek right when you couldn't afford to be bleeding out.

It was rough. The guards put up a fight. Just a standard Tuesday night.

You had to thank Hange for the lowered security, and failing machinery inside. Only then did escaping become possible with getting little to no injury.

Once the red and blue lights of police cars zipped through the streets, you knew it was headed for the old, cheap asylum that housed you for at least five years.

Snow drizzled outside, the night bluish with speckles of snowflakes falling. You caught one on your finger and almost laughed at yourself for wanting to cry. You forgot what snow felt like. The place treated you like a sewer rat with very little ventilation. You only had small, barred clerestory, and mud-colored bricks to gaze at in each waking moment. Even the sheets are bland.

Only when Hange arrived in your life did you have the chance to see what was outside after such a long time. It's been a year since the asylum sent an overqualified psychiatrist in front of you and it brings a smile to your face at where you at now.

The night was cold but you were warmed by the thick coat you stole from a stranger on your way out. You left the poor man bleeding on the pavement but thankfully not a speck splattered on the coat. It has such an expensive, natural color to be stained.

You sat obscured on a rotting bench near the alleyway, waiting for your lover. Sure the proceedings may take longer than you'd like. They will be interrogated, after all.

A few minutes and many strangers passed by after you spotted their familiar dark green coat. They turned on the next street and you soon followed.

"They did such a half-assed job on this one. No wonder you're still bleeding," you complained, tearing the poorly wrapped bandage on Hange's shoulder.

"Are you even surprised by such a degree of incompetence at this point?" Hange chuckled, taking a shot of brandy. You were straddled on their lap as you bandaged them properly.

"I guess not."

"We dodged a bullet back there, you know," Hange said, setting down their glass to place their hands on your hips.

"What happened?"

"They sent someone too curious for her own good. Almost had evidence against us. But we staged it well somehow."

A laugh escaped your lips, "We did not."

"I know," Hange laughed, showing you that broad, charming smile you love. "We need to get away in a week or so. We can't hide for long."

"I have some plans you might want to hear about."

"Go on. Shoot."

You took the bottle of brandy from the side table, not even bothering with the glass. You gulped the liquid down your throat, missing the burn of the alcohol.

You set it back down and took Hange's face on yours which was already focused on you anyway.

"You sure about this?" you asked.

"About what?"

"This thing we planned. Running away."

"We planned this long ago."

"But are you sure?"

"Yes."

A sigh, perhaps of relief, passed your lips. Then you smiled.

"You're insane, Dr. Zoë."

They grinned, squeezing your hips a bit, "Try me."

But good things don't last as much as you'd love them to. You were bound for destruction no matter how much you tried to keep your bloody hands to yourself.

"Hey, baby, please," Hange called with a sigh, nursing the shallow gash in their arm as they kneeled in front of you.

The bloody knife unfurled from your fists, clattering against the floor.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you sobbed. Their hands tried to reach yours but you were afraid to touch them again.

"I know you didn't mean it," Hange tried to soothe your sobs, brushing a tear from your cheek.

"You should just call the police," you mumbled, hugging your knees.

"I'm not doing that after we've been through," Hange said strongly. "Our flight will be in a few days."

"I don't want to hurt you again. I didn't mean to—"

Hange sensed another burst of apology from you again. They cupped your face, forehead leaning against yours.

"I know, Y/N, I know," they ran a hand through your hair. They gently tugged you to your feet and pulled you on the couch with them.

"I thought it would be okay again," you said through tears, gaze falling down your hands with much hatred and disappointment. I thought I’d be okay again.

"It will be. Eventually. We don't have to rush anything."

Their small side hug warmed your heart and yet you still couldn't get around the fact that you're dangerous, even for Hange. Knowing that you can't even control that sort of impulse was a slap in the face.

"Are you willing to give all of these up, everything you built?" you said slowly, fiddling with your hands. "For me?"

They laced their hands around yours, pressing a kiss on your cheek.

"You know I will," Hange said softly. With a gentle sigh, they added, "We'll be okay."

"I'm not sure about the me part."

A humorless smile spread on your lips.

"I want you to be okay on your own terms," Hange can't help but crack a smile. "Damn, I can lose my license ten times over just by saying that."

You laughed, pushing your fear to the back of your mind this time. You kissed them, as gently as you could, as if they would fall apart in your hands.

"I think I get what you mean."

Hange knew it wouldn't be easy. Only god knows how many times you'll turn up at their door with blood on your hands from people you don't remember or how many times they'll meet the end of your knife. But only Hange knew and understood your internal turmoil. The urge to just cut off your own hands rather than hurt them again. Hange found the gentleness built within your walls. It was fiery and stinging. It hurts to hold. But akin to the moth to a flame, Hange still held you closer and closer even if it felt like digging a knife deeper into their chest. They persevered even with all the awareness of the faults these situations present. They didn't spend years studying psychiatry only to wander from patient to patient, hoping some of the therapy would stick. They knew they could piece you together in some semblance of normal. And they knew you'd let them.

likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated, sweethearts <3

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drtanner · 1 year ago

Text

Genuinely wish I had the energy to talk more about UK politics here given that Tumblr is so US-centric and desperately needs the added perspective, but there's genuinely fuck all happening here that hasn't been par for the course for the last ~14 years. Tories gonna Tory.

A brief rundown for interested parties:

After a long and arduous battle to convince everyone that it should be legal to do so, our government has commenced with its plan to shove asylum seekers who attempt an extremely dangerous Channel crossing on small boats to find safety here onto planes and ship them off to Rwanda, a country with significant human rights issues. There does not seem to be any desire to do anything about the "criminal gangs" who are supposedly trafficking these asylum seekers and sending them here, or to ask any questions about what might make people so desperate that they'd risk crossing the Channel in a tiny boat in the first place.

Having sent everyone back to the office despite COVID still very much being a thing so that we can oil the wheels of the UK economy with our blood and to prevent their portfolios from losing value, the same ghouls are now proposing that disabled people "do their duty" by being forced to work from home, or else lose their benefits. They're also proposing mandatory work placements for people who fail to find work within 18 months.

Transphobia remains the culture war du jour, despite all evidence showing that it is a vote loser. Our government continues to be obsessed with policing the genitals of children and ensuring that trans people receive abuse from every possible direction, having recently released "guidance" for schools that essentially instructs them to deny trans kids any kind of shelter or agency whatsoever and to refuse their requests for basic dignity whenever the opportunity to do so arises, whilst simultaneously attempting to introduce the term "gender ideology" into mainstream parlance.

The Online Safety Bill, which proposes that social media sites should require ID in order to sign up, is also a porn ban.

We (and the US) are still bombing people in another country, without it having been approved by vote beforehand, in order to prevent Israel from suffering any economic hardship while it continues to commit a genocide using weapons that we (and the US) provide. Our government assures us that this will continue for as long as Israel wants it to, and is still talking about "humanitarian pauses" instead of any kind of actual, real ceasefire.

Labour (the supposed "opposition" party) has wholeheartedly supported every part of this and in some cases seems to think that the current government doesn't go far enough.

We're still in the middle of a cost of living crisis, by the way. Also the climate crisis, with more and more people losing their homes and livelihoods to flooding with every passing year. No one's talking about any of that, though. There might be a transgender child receiving lifesaving healthcare somewhere, or maybe an immigrant being treated with respect, which is obviously much worse.

So that's where we are right now. We've been promised an election this year but given that Labour haven't opposed any part of the cruelty this government has been visiting upon everyone but the white, cishet, ablebodied rich, it's unclear whether getting the Tories out will actually materially improve anything. If you've got the Greens or Lib Dems as candidates in your constituency, I guess it's time to make peace with voting for them instead of Labour, maybe.

So, yeah. v( ._.)v

#Tanner talks #UK politics

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urdepressedslut · 1 year ago

Note

May I request a shapeshifter!reader x platonic!avengers/Bucky where the reader was experimented on by Hydra and received her powers there? The Avengers try to recruit and help reader but she’s freaked out from all that’s happened and Bucky helps her overcome the fear and stress and learn to use her powers? Lots of angst but also lots of fluff if possible? (I also want to add your username is amazing lol /gen /lh )

oooooh I've never written a shapeshifter!reader, but I'm very interested with the whole idea. hope you like what I've come up with🥰

Tragedy

♡ Pairing: Platonic!Avengers!Bucky Barnes x Shapeshifter!Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: A new shapeshifter recruit has a hard time adjusting to the team, she feels out of place. Bucky knows what it's like to be the outsider and fight to have control, so he comforts her.

♡ Warnings: angst, fluff, talk of hydra experimentation, mentions of past torture, mentions of Bucky's trauma, anxiety, depression, tony being tony

main masterlist ✧ inbox open

The Avengers compound had been chaotic for the past week, tons of missions, plenty of people getting burnt out— overall it was busy. The compound had gathered some new recruits, adding some much needed people to their team. It would take awhile before they were respected like all of the original Avengers— but they’d get there in time.

A pair of invisible twins had joined the team, taking time with Wanda to master their ability, practice being stealthy. They also had the ability to read minds, which is why Wanda wanted to work with them.

A boy at the age of 19 had just been recruited, his ability being super strength. He was strong, fast and overall almost as in shape as some certain super soldiers. Steve had taken a liking to the boy immediately, noticing he wasn’t just enhanced— but he had a good heart as well, sweet as pie. Steve didn’t hesitate to take him under his wing.

Lastly, there was you. You were the most recent recruit— having just been released from the asylum. Yeah… asylum. Unlike the other new recruits, you had a battered past and a scarred brain. You didn’t have an easy journey to become apart of the team. Truthfully, you didn’t want to be an avenger— you were just trying to survive.

You had been rescued almost a year ago from a hidden HYDRA facility. Almost thousands of bodies littered the building, the scattered evidence that HYDRA had been secretly experimenting on innocent people. The team had scopes out the entire building with heavy hearts, not finding any sign of life— until they had found you. He had found you.

James Buchanan Barnes.

Hidden underneath the facility through a tiny window, you were being held, chains keeping you locked int the confined space. The team remembered that image perfectly, the way they shuttered in horror that you had had to live like this for god knows how long. It was an unsettling day, but a victorious one at least. They had saved you and brought you to medical center immediately. After tests had been done, scans had been run— you were moved to an asylum.

To say you were difficult would be an understatement. But it was just that, you weren’t difficult— you were traumatized. You didn’t feel in control of your body, your mind— your abilities. You were spiraling, the newfound freedom unfamiliar— uncomfortable. You were kept in a white room for a couple months, until you showed signs of progress. You’d speak when you had to. You’d eat if you were told to. You functioned more normally as the days passed, as the therapy sessions came and went.

Truthfully, it was all bullshit. No one recovers from that kind of life. The life of imprisonment and torture.

How could you?

You recovered enough to be allowed out of the white room, walking the halls of the asylum. You knew you didn’t belong here, you weren’t what they labeled you as… crazy. You were struggling to adapt to your new life— that’s all.

Soon enough, your therapist thought you were stable enough to move on to bigger things— like joining the Avengers. She had briefly told you that she talked with a Mr. Fury, and that you had been invited to be an avenger. You wanted to laugh at the offer, how does one even get an offer like that? Although your declines were ignored and you found out quickly that if you didn’t obey and join the avengers, you’d be locked up again at the asylum.

It was either you adapt and do good— be good. Or you were back to staring at the white walls. You chose to not put up much of a fight and let them guide you to the compound. In the back of your mind you wondered if you would always be kept somewhere against your will. The Avengers were good compared to HYDRA, but ultimately— they were holding you hostage just as HYDRA was.

Guess you should be used to it by now.

The introduction was embarrassing, everyone staring at you like you were fresh meat— yeah you were, but the stares had you feeling incredibly self conscious. Everyone seemed nice, offering to help in any way that they could to help you adjust easier. You thanked them quietly and kept to yourself, the team didn’t hear much from you ever.

Unlike the other new recruits, no Avenger spoke out to take you under their wing. Nobody wanted you around.

It was a particular rough training day that had things falling apart.

You had wandered into the training room on your own, sitting crisscrossed by the large mirror. You were trying to meditate, since your little scare this morning. You were a shapeshifter, and could transform into any being, take on their appearance— but not without difficulty. You could only transform if you had touched something. It was unlike any stories that were ever told about your kind— shifting was painful. Back at HYDRA, you were chained down to a table while guards would bring in different kinds of creatures, different suffering innocent people. They beat you into shifting, torture you until you took a different form.

When you woke this morning, your heart was beating scarily quick. Your limbs were cold, your fingertips and toes numb— you had identified it quickly as a panic attack. You dreamt of your days back in HYDRA— the days you were tortured for hours on end, days on end. You found yourself wanting to shift into a muscular guard you had seen in your dream— appear stronger and bigger. You felt you needed to be on alert, protect yourself from the dangers of your dream. The feeling quickly flowed throughout your body, the familiar pain of shifting coming on fast— so you tried everything you could to calm down. That’s where you found yourself sitting in front of the mirror, attempting to meditate.

Bucky wandered into the room, getting ready for his own workout when he noticed your small form on the floor. He watched through the reflection as you had your eyes shut, your chest rising and falling with deep breaths. He was no expert, but he had an idea of what you were trying to do— possibly what had happened. His heart clenched at the sight, feeling terrible that someone else had to go through such things.

Sure, he had read your file— but that was no way to get to know someone. He was waiting for a good chance to introduce himself, maybe show you around. He found that rather difficult, you were very good at staying hidden— sneaking out of a room without notice. He admired your stealthiness, but he didn’t want you to feel like you had to be around the compound.

“Hey.” He started, feeling bad when he saw you jump slightly at his greeting.

You met his blues through the mirror and turned quickly to face him, standing up along the way.

“Hi.” You greeted quietly.

He smiled at your gentle voice, deciding to stop at a good length away— not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

“Haven’t really gotten a chance to introduce myself since you got here. I’m Bucky.” He held his flesh hand out.

You eyeballed his hand, knowing that you would gain the ability to take his form if you touched him. You took a deep breath, enjoying the cool air traveling down your throat to your lungs— before you raised your hand.

“Nice to meet you Bucky, I’m (Y/n).” You said quickly, pulling your hand back to your side— ignoring the tingling sensation that his touch had left.

It wasn’t the unpleasant feeling of shifting either— it was just a pleasant buzz.

“(Y/n), what do you say after I’m done in here— I’ll show you around the compound. Introduce you to everybody.” He offered and immediately regretted his words at the expression of horror on your face.

You gulped, the thought of meeting so many faces all in one day— it was extremely overwhelming and anxiety inducing. You didn’t want to mess up your first impression, you wanted to have gotten a good nights rest before you met everyone. You probably looked a mess, your hair— your clothes—

“(Y/n)?”

Bucky’s voice snapped you back to the moment and you shook your head, scratching the back of your neck in embarrassment. Being caught in a little moment there.

“Uh… I’d rather meet everyone another time… if that’s okay.” You whispered out, nervous that he’d get mad at your refusal.

He noticed how nervous you were to tell him no, on one hand he was proud that you had spoke up— knowing you came from HYDRA. Another part of him was saddened at your hesitation— no doubt you were waiting for a beating or some kind of torture.

“Of course, we can go at your pace.” He told you in a soft voice, hoping to keep the conversation smooth and calm.

You weren’t prepared for the kindness and you felt thrown off at his response. It took you a second to gather your thoughts before you could talk again.

“Thank you.” You whispered so quietly that you were sure he didn’t hear you.

Bucky had though, and even if he didn’t respond— he felt his heart hurt at your scared quiet voice. He hated HYDRA— so fucking much.

The conversation ended soon after, giving you time to excuse yourself to your room while Bucky started his workout— all his thoughts of you of course.

You hadn’t given him a full answer in his offer. He knew you didn’t want to meet everyone yet— which was fine. But he still wanted to show you around— if you wanted to.

After he showered and cleaned himself up, it was the late afternoon. He headed up to your room to retrieve you.

He knocked three times before waiting patiently. He could hear the faint thuds of you inside, and by the sounds of it— you hadn’t been expecting a visitor.

The door swung open and your eyes widened at Bucky standing there. For a second you wondered if someone was setting him up to do this… talk to you.

“Hey. Was wondering if you were still up for the tour?” He asked hesitantly, waiting for you to decline.

You thought for a moment, taking in the way he looked clean, his hair seemed freshly washed and shiny. Your eyes wandered to his outfit, jeans and a navy blue henley that complimented his eyes. You smiled little at how put together he looked.

“Just you and I?” You wondered, swaying on your feet.

He nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Just us. Whatta ya say?”

You wondered how much it would hurt to find out he was indeed being forced to hang with you. It would sting— but would it really be anything new? You repeled people and that’s the way you liked it. No one had the chance of hurting you if you didn’t let anyone in.

You gave in regardless, taking a chance. Knowing that this was going to hurt.

“Okay. Lemme get a sweater.” You told him, sneaking back inside you room— grabbing a gray knitted sweater.

Pulling it over your tank, you exited your room and closed your door with a click. Turning towards him, you were met with happy crinkly eyes, his warm smile beaming into you. It was hard not to smile back, but you managed somehow.

“Where to?” You asked.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry. First stop— the kitchen.” He announced dramatically.

You could tell he was trying a little too hard to make you comfortable. But it was an appreciated gesture— you just couldn’t stop thinking about how much this was going to hurt.

Every sweet gesture was just another rock being placed over your chest. Eventually your bones wouldn’t be able to hold the rocks— they’d crack them and crush your heart.

You said nothing as you followed behind him, wandering through the hallways until you both entered the kitchen— which was full of avengers. Your anxiety spiked immediately and you wanted to disappear from all the staring.

“Heyyyy! Look who it is! It’s the rookie— are you done hiding from us now?” Tony asked dramatically, fake being hurt.

His question was fair, but you couldn’t find yourself able to answer with all eyes on you. You could feel yourself start to sweat, your hands cold and becoming numb. Some may think you’re being dramatic, but you just weren’t mentally prepared to meet everyone.

“Tony don’t…” Bucky warned lowly, trying to keep his voice down as to not bring any more attention on you.

“Oh c’mon Barnes— you have to be a little curious as to where she’s been hiding this whole time. Let’s remember this is my property— I deserve to know who’s living in it.” He said as a matter of factly.

You swallowed and tried thinking of a response. Maybe you should apologize. You wondered.

“She still deserves privacy Stark.” Natasha voiced from the corner of the room.

Tony rolled his eyes, turning back towards you with a smirk.

“Sooo what’s up rookie? Where ya been?” He asked.

Despite many trying to defend you— they were also curious as to where you have been. They knew of your arrival and hadn’t seen you much since then, besides Bucky. But he was only just starting to talk with you today.

“I’ve been in my room mostly, trying to adjust.” You managed to make out, your throat was still tight with nerves.

Bucky looked to you with a pitied gaze. He felt bad that he had put you in this position.

“You should totally come to a famous Avengers movie night sometime kid.” Tony suggested, and a bunch of the surrounding Avengers nodded.

You relaxed just slightly, although Tony was pushy and loud— you could tell he had good intentions. You nodded your head and attempted a small smile.

“Yeah, that sounds great. I’ll definitely make it one night.” You told him, and he smiled in triumph.

“I’m not too hungry anymore— wanna get outta here?” Bucky spoke from beside you, and you felt relief at his words.

“Yes please.” You whispered to him, earning a smile from the soldier.

You two waved your goodbyes and headed out of the room, heading towards the living area. Bucky immediately spoke up once you two were away from the rest.

“(Y/n), I’m so sorry— I didn’t think they’d all be in there. Please know that I didn’t do that to you on purpose.” He apologized and you took him by surprise by grabbing his metal hand.

“It’s fine, I believe you.” You reassured him, “Besides, Tony is right. I need to stop hiding.”

Bucky softened his gaze and held your hand properly with his metal one, getting your attention on his blues.

“Hey, you don’t have to rush into anything. You go at your pace, okay?” He told you, his voice smooth and gentle. “I know what it’s like to switch to this lifestyle after living with…”

He trailed off, knowing your story from the file but he didn’t know if you knew that. Of course, you had assumed everyone knew your story— kind of sucked, but you didn’t have a choice in the matter.

“I know. Its much different here than Hydra.” You finished for him. “It will take time but I’ll get there. I already feel better now that I can talk to you.”

“I’m here if you ever need to talk— about anything. I’m not so sure how great I am with advice but… I’m a good listener.” He told you.

You smiled and gave his metal hand a tiny playful tug.

“Thank you Bucky.”

He nodded and gave your hand a playful tug back.

“Don’t need to thank me, just know I’m here for you.”

A/N: haven’t proofread this— ignore spelling mistakes🥰

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kymerawrites · 9 months ago

Text

Sir Simon Riley EP.3

Summary: the day after the club, where ghost shows his vulnerability to shym

As I woke up, I found myself lying on a comfortable bed, surrounded by soft sheets. The room was dimly lit, but I could see a few faint outlines in the darkness - a chair, a table, a small window. I tried to sit up, but my head throbbed with pain, and I groaned involuntarily.

My voice felt hoarse, I looked around the room to see ghost standing at the door accompanied by gaz "my head hurts so bad" I squeaked

Ghost immediately stepped closer to my bedside, his voice low and concerned. "You were drugged." he told me. "We found you passed out on the couch

I looked down at at my bed while fidgeting with the sheets "so how did you guys find me? And I still remember a little i just cannot place anything anymore."

"We got a tip that the Shadows would be here, so we decided to check it out." Gaz explained. "We found you unconscious on the couch. After we captured those bastards, we took you back to base and made sure you were okay."

I looked at both of them and felt that gut feeling of mistrust, I felt like they were lying. "You are lying." I said

Ghost raised an eyebrow at my accusation, a hint of surprise in his eyes. "What do you mean we are lying?" he asked calmly, but there was no trace of dishonesty in his tone. "We have no reason to lie to you. We wanted to protect you."

I sighed and looked him in the eye "I know you guys started panicking when I wasn't in that boring bar you guys choose that night."

Ghost's expression darkened at my words, and he stepped closer to the bed, his eyes locking onto mine. "We did panic, because you left without telling us. We couldn't find you, and we thought something might have happened to you. I told you to stay with the team for a reason."

My brows furrowed "you do know I am a fucking soldier in one of the most respected teams in the world? I know how to do my shit alone and I don't condone you telling me what to do lieutenant. If I want to go clubbing I will go clubbing."

Ghost sighed, his expression softening slightly. "I know you're capable, that's not the issue here." he said, a hint of exasperation in his voice. "We care about you, and we just want to make sure you're safe. Going out alone late at night is dangerous." There was a tension in the room as they locked gazes, a silent battle of wills.

As I tried to stand up I lost my stability, Ghost immediately rushed forwards, grabbing onto my shoulders and gently steadying me on my feet. His grip was firm and reassuring, his concern evident in his expression. "Take it easy." he whispered, his voice low and comforting. "You're still in no condition to be walking around."

I looked him in the eye and shifted my gaze towards gaz, "I want you all to leave this instant. And I want to go back to my own room, this looks like some asylum for the depressed." I said hoarsely

The room fell silent for a moment, the tension thick in the air. Ghost stared at me, his expression unreadable. After a few seconds, he sighed and gave a nod to Gaz, who quietly excused himself from the room. Ghost waited until we were alone before he spoke again, his voice quiet. "You shouldn't push yourself too hard right now," he said, his tone softening slightly. "You need to rest."

I looked down at my feet, I was still in my old dress that seems to be ripped by the soldier around my waist "I know.. I just" I couldn't come up with my next words I was at loss. He was right my neck was hurting like hell and I looked worn out.

Ghost reached out and gently touched my chin, tilting my face up to meet his gaze. His eyes held nothing but concern and care as he spoke softly. "I understand." he said. "But please, listen to me for once and get some rest. You're safe now, and the Shadows have been captured. Just take a moment to relax and recover from your ordeal."

I grabbed his hand tightly and put it back where it first was "please leave, the moment I am back to my old state we need to have a conversation about the shadows. Something feels off."

Ghost nodded, understanding my need for space. He gently withdrew his hand from mine and stepped back from the bed. "Get some rest." he said softly. "We'll talk about the Shadows tomorrow, but you need to take care of yourself first. I'll be back to check on you soon." With those words, he turned and quietly left the room, closing the door behind him.

As hours passed, I found my thoughts were consumed by the events of the night. The Shadows...something didn't sit right with me. I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this than we originally thought. Someone was pulling the strings, but who? Ghost or Soap could've made a mistake with the information, but those men were clearly looking for me. I couldn't help but feel like I was in the center of something much larger than myself.

After what felt like hours I stood up, I still felt horrible but I started to walk to my own room I carefully made my way to my room, each step a challenge as I fought against the residual effects of the drug still coursing through my veins. The room seemed even quieter than before, and the silence only deepened my uneasiness. I sat down on the edge of my bed, my head still throbbing with pain, and I tried to recall more details about the night's events.

The knock at the door shattered the silence, making me jump in startled surprise. I hesitated for a moment, unsure of whether I should answer or not. The medication they had given me left me feeling disoriented and weak, and the thought of facing someone right now was overwhelming.

I just screamed through the door "I don't want any more medication, this is making me feel like I got hit by a car twice!" I exclaimed

I heard footsteps approach the door, and Ghost's voice filtered through. "It's not medication. Not this time." he said softly, his tone gentle and cautious. "Can I open the door? I just want to talk."

I felt very irritable at the moment "didn't I explicitly told you that we will talk tomorrow, didn't I?"

I heard a sighed as he replied through the door, his voice still gentle despite my irritation. "I know what you said." he began. "But I couldn't wait until tomorrow. Please, just give me five minutes."

Well seems I cannot deny my lieutenant my full attention can't I? Please make urself at home I guess. I forgot I was only wearing shorts and a tank top but I guess no one would notice.

Ghost entered the room, his gaze immediately zeroing in on my attire, but he didn't comment on it. He sat down on the edge of the bed, his hands clasped together in front of him as he looked at me. "You still look a little rough." he observed quietly.

I stuffed my face into my pillow "the shadow company has some good drugs to make you look like this, maybe I should ask for more to the man that danced on me, you know he's a great dancer aside from being our enemy."

Ghost's expression darkened at my mention of the man from the club, his jaw tensed. "That's not funny." he snapped, his tone short and sharp. "He didn't just dance with you, he drugged and attacked you. You're lucky we got there in time."

"Please do not remind me, because of him I look like some homeless heroin addict" I stuffed my face once again in my pillow

Ghost sighed and reached out, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. "You don't look like a heroin addict." he said softly. "You look like someone who's been through something tough, and that's completely different. We all have been through things that leave scars, but that doesn't define us. You're still the same strong, fierce soldier you've always been."

I didn't respond to that compliment and got straight to the point "well seems ur 2 minutes are already over, let's just get towards the point ghost."

Ghost raised an eyebrow at my attitude but nodded, his expression sobering. "Okay." he said, his tone all business now. "I wanted to talk about the Shadows. Something feels off about this whole situation, and I think we need to investigate further." He looked at me intently. "Do you remember anything else about what happened last night? Anything that might help us figure out what they were actually after?"

I sighed and started thinking hard "well, not anything important. But I agree that the team got something wrong. The shadows cannot have the artifact. I think they're covering for someone else."

Ghost nodded, his gaze sharp. "That's what I was thinking as well." he affirmed. "The Shadows are just the front. Someone higher up is behind this. I can't help but feel like we've been outplayed from the very beginning."

a memory came to my mind from yesterday night, a name.. I started to think and got myself back to the moment he said something about the artifact

Ghost noticed the change in my expression and leaned forward slightly. "What is it?" he asked, his voice low and urgent. "Did you remember something?"

"Do you know what the artifact is called or how it looks like?"

Ghost's brow furrowed in thought, and he shifted slightly, his expression becoming serious. "I've seen some intel on it, but it's very limited." he admitted."

"I do know some details about the artifact we're searching for." he said. "It's an ancient amulet with a deep blue gem in its center. The gem contains a powerful energy source that we believe can be used for both great good and great evil. Why do you ask?"

I sighed and rolled my eyes. "Don't you think this is a little bit of some weird this isn't a world with hocus-pocus magic, I think it's a cover-up for big business or a weapon something that can destroy that artifact needs to be coverup for a drug or weapon. Maybe even human trafficking."

Ghost's brow furrowed thoughtfully as he considered my words. "You might have a point." he admitted, his voice low. "It's possible that the artifact is just a cover-up for something more sinister. Human trafficking, drug trafficking... that would explain a lot." He looked at me intently. "What makes you think that the Shadows aren't acting alone here?"

"The shadows are considered rookies, look at how we beat them that night, they couldn't even kill me when they had a gun right infront my neck"

I showed the blue mark on my neck and continued talking

"their covering so they receive something like respect, or money so the big man can do his business while we are attacking the wrong person here."

"I somehow have a feeling this has to do with me." I stared at my makeup table to avoid looking at ghost.

Ghost looked at me curiously, his eyebrows raised inquisitively. "Why do you think this has to do with you?" he asked, his tone filled with genuine curiosity. "Did you notice something at the club that night that led you to that conclusion, or is it just a hunch?"

"I can't tell you" I stood up and felt a jolt of pain in my upper leg but I tried to ignore it and walked towards my mirror to put my hair into a ponytail but I felt myself losing balance

At the sight of me losing my balance once again, Ghost quickly stood up and moved to my side, bracing me with his arms to help keep me steady. His expression was filled with concern as he looked down at me. "You shouldn't be up on your feet." he chided gently. "You need to rest, and you're clearly still in pain."

My heart started to race again and I couldn't keep this up for any longer, I will hurt the ones I let in. "Please stop..."

Ghost's expression softened at the tone of my voice, his concern still evident in his eyes. "I'm only worried about you." he said quietly. "You're not yourself right now. You're hurt and tired, and you need to take care of yourself." He hesitated for a moment, then spoke again, his voice firm. "Let me carry you to bed."

I haven't felt this vulnerability in years, it's an aspect I do not appreciate in my life. I looked him in the eye "please... stop I just.. cannot."

Ghost's expression grew gentle as he saw the vulnerability in my eyes, and he let out a soft sigh. "Okay." he whispered, his voice soothing. He slowly and gently let go of me, his touch lingering slightly as he pulled away, his gaze softening even more. "But only if you promise to rest. No more getting out of bed until you're feeling better, okay?"

He started to walk away and my head started spinning again, I froze on the spot and breathing felt harder than it should be

Ghost paused as he reached the door, turning to look back at me one last time. His gaze was filled with concern as he stared at me, his brow furrowed with worry. He hesitated for a moment, then spoke softly one more time. "Get some rest." he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. And with that, he turned and quietly left the room, gently closing the door behind him. As the room fell silent, I was left alone with my thoughts, my body still feeling weak and shaky.

Why did he want to enter my life so badly, what was it about me that made him so caring for me? He isn't like that with anyone else but soap. And now also me. I couldn't understand. No, I didn't want to understand.

Despite Ghost's concern and genuine care for my well-being, I found myself feeling both confused and frustrated by his presence. Deep down, part of me craved the affection and attention I had been deprived of for so long. But another part of me was afraid, afraid of letting him get too close, afraid of becoming vulnerable again. I struggled to shake the conflicting emotions that swirled within me, my mind in turmoil.

#simon riley x reader #ghost cod #cod modern warfare #modern warfare #simon ghost riley

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