#.sort of hard to stay in the present when you were stuck in one place for a while beforehand

[cursedthing]

.PLACES SKAURA SPOUSES IN YOUR HANDS

[emdeerm]

Past saves Present

Og fic ig

In some cultures, it is believed that children are able to remember bits of their past lives till the ages of 3-5.

For Danny, the opposite was true. He got his memories at exactly the second he turned 5.

And he had to promptly dodge the blade of the boy in front of him.

His brother, his mind supplied. His twin.

Danny stopped swinging his own sword, focusing on dodging and avoiding the fate of being a slashed pillow. His new/earned skills especially helped with that greatly as his head was seriously trying to re-kill him.

"I yield," he rasped as he jumped away from his brother and looked at their Mother. "My head hurts, Mother," he added pitifully.

His twin looked slightly concerned for a second, before schooling his face in a way Grandfather has been teaching them.

"Tch." But he did put away the blade before their Mother, said a word.

"Dynial, Damian, you are not to stop until you have received permission in the future."

The boys nodded. Mother took their hands and led them out of the private training ground back to their rooms.

Danny spent the rest of the day lying down, slightly feverish and miserable as his brain was processing and acclimating the new set of memories. Clockwork said it wouldn't be too bad. We'll, the clock bustard has been wrong. It fucking sucked.

His brother was hovering. Their Mother was always around, not letting anyone into their space. Ra's is being kept in the dark.

A peaceful rest was all he needed for his brain to finish sorting out new information. And Danny was stuck in a bit of a dilemma.

You see, Damian and Dynial love their Mother, strive to be the best Demon Twins, and see nothing wrong with their life so far.

Their hands are still clean.

Danny, on the other hand, has many MANY choice words for his current situation and one Clock Ghost.

You want to try reincarnation ONE time! No wonder others don't really do that.

-------

Their days continued like they did before he got his memory back. It wasn't hard to be Dynial when he actually was him.

The nights were filled with planning. And a personally assigned mission: get Damian to be interested in normal things.

Stars weren't much of a hit. Uncultured child.

Animals were a little intriguing.

Simple art and craft projects seemed to hit the spot.

Keeping their little meetings and activities hidden wasn't as hard as one would think. Mother still had her missions. The two of them were often left alone in their wing of the place, the supervisors being allowed only till the doors. Ra's was the Head. He didn't check in on them all the time. The two of them weren't slacking in their training either and were considered prodigies.

Danny wanted out of this Cult.

A many months after feeding different information, facts, crafts and so on to his brother, Damian was curious. He was suspicious about the sudden knowledge but he was also 5. He only had to reference the Lazarus Pit (unfiltered and dirty ectoplasm? Seriously? Clockwork, you can't expect him to work on his vocation) once to convince the child.

They snooped around and found out that they had a father out in the world.

Danny got a plan.

It was super stupid. And dangerous as hell. As well as literally (half)suicidal. But he felt it in his chest and knew he'd succeed.

His Core was here. But it was sleeping. And if he wanted to be safe and away from here, he needed to start it up again.

The big pool of Ecto would do just fine. His Core would filter out the impurities.

He didn't want to stay here until his hands no longer protected. He didn't want such life for his brother either.

---

Damian infiltrated the Lazarus Room just in time to see his brother jump into the Pit.

He ran to the edge.

He was sinking.

The green was too bright. The smell around them was too much. His ears rang.

He reached towards the water, eyes unseeing and hands numb. His heartbeat was too loud.

His brother's wasn't loud enough.

"Don't touch the puddles, Dami, you'll get sick," a gentle, cold hand stopped him from diving.

The child looked up. His brother was floating above the water. He looked all wrong. But he was there.

"I didn't want you to see this part..." his brother laughed awkwardly as he landed next to him. A bright ring of light blinded Damian for a second.

And his brother was back.

-----

Getting used to his powers again felt nice but tedious. Soothing his twin was heartbreaking. He didn't think this through hard enough.

Their Mother was none the wiser to the fact that one of her children died and came back. Nore was she privy to the escape being planned by both.

On one moonless night, when Mother wasn't there, the shift was changing and the world was asleep; two boys phased through the walls and flew. Small bags of stuff were strapped onto them as they traveled to their father.

Mother's notes called him Bruce Wayne, Batman, Beloved and Detective.

It wasn't hard to find him when they arrived.

Though, Danny didn't expect a furless furry and a pantless child to be their new family.

Can he ever get a normal Family???

[goldsbitch]

Just don't talk--------

-and remember my coffee order.

p12 to Just don't talk

summary: First outing in public, as the two don't even try to hide that they're in love with each other.

As far as bizarre goes, this meeting was up there at the top, yet again.

The comms team had a big chart put up in the meeting room, with timelines, platforms, twists and turns - it was like watching someone explain a plot for some movie script. This is where you'll be spotted kissing for the first time, this is when you post a photo with a family member, this is when you'll go on a vacation together (faked, obviously) and this is when you'll part on separate vacation and soft launch your break up - and this is your break up note for social media. It was funny, yet a little overwhelming.

"Obviously, this will be adapted as we move forward. As you can see here on the next slide, these are the numbers we are setting as our targets. The amount of revenue generated by this will be affecting the schedule," the assistant presenting this seemed to have a little too much fun with it, up to the point when Lando thought they were getting off on it. He saved his comments - why would he stir the pot too much? Now that he has what he wanted. This is just a charade that they will have to get through. And if all goes according to their plan, all of the people making these presentations will be very surprised one day. He was sort of looking forward to wiping their smiles off.

"talk about romance," Y/N texted Lando secretly. He chuckled and shared a look with her, as if to say "we got this".

The numbers part was where it reached the peak of weird. The pair sat, watching people calculating how much money they will make out of them sharing few kisses in public and estimating how much will this affect their marketability.

Y/N had few issues with their plan. Mainly, it seemed to avoid anything really personal. As if a relationship was only about sharing a holiday and flaunting around with family pictures. She for one hated this part and made it very clear that no family of hers will be involved. But where were the shared streams, the dinner dates and shared hotel rooms? If this was a blueprint of their relationship, then it would have been a very shit one. But then again, this was the fake dating public part - they could not control what they did in their own real relationship. But she really hoped it would not be like that.

//

Their first public scheduled public outing - a very simple coffee run together, no hiding, little cute chat and holding hands. Those were the instruction they'd received.

It was one of the rare free days between races. She woke up at his place after spending first stressless night with him after few hard days. They both woke up early, still processing the time difference.

"Hello, sunshine," he whispered, as they laid side by side, legs tangled together. He watched her attentively, studying her face as she let a smile out upon hearing him.

"I don't wanna get up," she mumbled and wiggled her way deeper into his embrace. "Let's just stay here, like this."

She was just too cute to resist, stuck somewhere between sleep and awake. So honest and unguarded. Lando hasn't felt this relaxed in years. He held her tightly as her breath tickled him in his chest.

"I'd love nothing more that to stay here, my dear. But we gotta go out today, remember?"

"But it's just so comfortable here, please," she set her voice higher than usual, as if to convince him to skip school with her.

"Don't be a little tease, otherwise I'll never get anything done ever again," he joked and pulled away a bit in order to give her few pecks on her cheek.

"I'm a tease? What a double standard," she remarked curiously, as she traced his morning wood with her fingers.

He took a deep breath, trying to gather all the morale he had in him. "I can't exactly control that," he said heavily.

"I like it. Can you be my breakfast?" she asked, suddenly full of life. She abruptly sat up on him and demonstratively licked her lips, morning hair all tangled up, no clothes or make up on. How was he supposed to resist that? She smirked as she saw his determination leave and went on to suck him off while holding his hand.

His moans were louder that what she used from him. It was like entering a different room this time. A very pretty one.

//

"Did I ever tell you that you have really beautiful eyes?" she asked all of a sudden, as they were heading towards his fridge for a premade breakfast.

He looked at her as he opened the door. "I don't think so," he answered shyly. She could melt right then and there.

Lando took out two chai bowls and put them on his table. All very casual and comfortable.

She took her first spoon and immediately noticed her favorite smell. "My chef always skips on cinnamon. He believes it's bad for the gut."

"Do you not like it?" he asked, worried he unintentionally fucked up.

She licked her spoon, reminiscing of having his cock in her mouth just moments ago. "No, I really love it. Miss it, actually."

"You need to get a different chef, what kind of a bullshit is that?"

"Life is full of bullshit, Lando."

"Well aren't you a philosopher," he teased her once again.

They made sure to be at the top of their game. Tried on few outfits, trying to find something that might fit them both, Y/N being in her full on follicular phase and focusing more on removing the outfits from him, rather than putting them on. He acted annoyed, but was over the moon she finds him attractive as well. Once they finally rolled out his apartment, they were quite sight to see.

"Do you realize we did not decide on the most important thing," she said as Lando casually walked over to the driver's seat of one of his cars.

"Hm?"

She gave him a look instead of speaking, letting him figure it out on his own.

He was usually quite oblivious to these hints, but this one dropped fast.

"Absolutely not."

"I share your sentiment, absolutely not. I know how you drive, Lando."

"More podiums than you, so I get the driver's privileges. Stop overthinking and get it the car."

It was a matter of principles - she was not going to let them fall into relationship stereotypes automatically. And also she just did not accept other people driving, making her awfully similar to Lando.

"Have we never sat in a car together before?" he lost track a bit, trying to recall any other time they'd share a car.

"Nope."

It was becoming a stare down at this point. Neither of them backing down.

"My car is parked nearby. We can go separately," she bargained, waiting for him to back off. But he saw right through her, his ego not letting him get her away with that.

He replied without blinking. "Sure. Why the hell not." She wanted him to back down and he wanted the same from her. "Do you want me to drive you to your car?"

He was mocking her and she was not having it.

"Nope, just text me the location and we'll see who gets there first," she challenged, still sort of hoping for him to fold.

"Great, I'll give you a five minute head start," and he nonchalantly sat into his car.

"Fucking idiot," she mumbled under her breath. He heard her and had to bite his lips to stop himself smiling.

She tried to race there first while not breaking that many laws and not endangering anyone, but he still won. He was standing there, leaning on his car with all his glory, as he watched her park angrily.

"Hi, baby," he greeted her and took his hat off. "Better luck next time." He gave her a mocking pseudo-sad pout.

"For each speeding ticket you'll get 30 seconds penalty," she hit him back.

"Worth it and still first," he winked. "Ready?"

"I guess so." He walked over to her and took her hand in his. Already there were few bystanders noticing them.

"We'll be ok," he reassured more himself than her probably.

"I was kinda hoping for more than that," she tried to lighten up the mood, as sudden nerves washed over her.

"You just never stop, do you," he laughed as they walked over to the café and he held the door open for her.

"You wish."

As they entered, he asked about her coffee order and made sure to memorize it for the future. If he was to be a boyfriend, he would be the best one. She kept looking to the ground as he order for both of them. He saw her slight distress and hoped that she was not regretting this - being out in the open with him. Even though their teams thought this was all fake, it was more than real for him. He would not admit this to anyone, but he was also kind of nervous. But there was not a doubt in his mind about this being worth it. She stood next to him, practically glued to his side and it felt nice as they waited for their order. He had to find a way to cheer her, main reason being that he cared about her mood and the second being their first pictures had to have looking at least little bit like having fun.

"It's actually quite exciting, isn't it?" Lando asked, unsuccessfully fighting his smile. The more he thought about them, the more was starting to like this whole thing.

"What is, Lando?" she replied, coming back to reality and locking eyes with him. It worked like magic. Within seconds, she was smitten through the roof.

He held her hand as a lover would. It was like touching a life wire. Sending impulses throughout their bodies.

"Being able to do this in public," he mumbled under his breath and stepped just a little bit closer. Time to break the rules.

He licked his lips "Ready?"

She was on the same wavelength as him. "Will this be our first kiss?" she teased, shifting towards him.

He put his arm around her waist, pushing her as close as possible. "Uhm."

"But this is ahead of the schedule they'd planned," she teased, totally on board with him.

"And you can watch me try to give a damn." There was fire dancing in his eyes. She put her arms on his chest, letting herself go into his embrace and closed her eyes, as he put his lips onto hers and kissed her. It was a gentle peck, their lips slowly brushing onto each other, the way that they had many times before. Yet, it still felt special. Carefree. Bold and confident.

There weren't many people in the cafe and the kiss wasn't exactly a long one, but it was enough. They had it documented from several angles. Y/N searched for the photos and saved them all. Neither of them quite ready for the storm coming their way.

_________________________________________

@scopeiguess @leclercsluv @sulliamour @starmanv @riverxsq @eviethetheatrefreak @chonkybonky @bicchaan @saachiep81 @chezmardybum @a-beaverhausen @tbsloneely @iamkaku @amberpanda99

[sunny-mercya]

Chasing Shadows

Percy Jackson x Male Reader

Fandom -> Percy Jackson Series

Masterlist

Percy had known, more gotten it told—rather offhandedly and in a rude, dismissive and snarky snide manner—about your mental health from the very beginning, when he had first woken up in Camp Half-Blood.

It hadn't deterred him to befriend you—the skittish, anxious and shy boy, with a sunshine like smile and an heart filled with too much joy and genuine love.

So now, when summer vacation had started again for Percy—after almost a whole year since the Battle against Kronos rising had been won and over—to be back at Camp, hopefully for some tranquility and peaceful time, the very first thing he did—besides bringing his luggage into his Cabin—was to check up on you.

You're a full time camper since birth and the only few times you had gotten even remotely out of Camp, had been during two Quests—where Percy had dragged you along for non real purpose in all honesty—and the final battle. Percy knew how cramped and suffocating you felt in camp, so he hopes the present he had brought for you—would cast a smile on your lips.

Jogging around, having a hard time finding you as you weren't in your usual spots and neither were you in the Apollo Cabin—which wasn't your Cabin to stay in as Apollo isn't your other parental half, but due an oath binding between Apollo and Zephyr—your actual parental half—you (and all other children of Zephyr, which were none thought as you're the only one) are allowed to stay in the Apollo Cabin as well.

Percy had heard from Annabeth—which was a bit surprising as the both of you are not familiar with one another at all—and Will, which was to be expected as you're his unofficial—hopefully soon officially—adopted little brother, how your mental health had taken a drastic shift into a worsen state than it had been before.

When Percy checked the Medical wing and couldn't saw in there either, there had been only more place left in his mind—where you probably could've been hiding, a small offside shore by the lake—and Percy swore, if you're not there either, he would go to Chiron and and report you missing.

~~~

Percy thanked Zeus and possibly God above with sincere gratitude, that you're indeed by the lake.

Though when Percy was almost near you—eyes widen in shock, breath caught in his lungs, once he saw your appearance vaguely close enough—he skidded into an stop, stumbling a few steps forward and landed with his knees—probably scraping them open—in the rough pebble and rock filled sand.

He crawled the last bit of way, sitting himself right in front of you. You didn't seem to register him at all, in a sort of daze you are—in your own world, lost in empty thoughts—staring with with dull eyes, void of emotions and life, at him or more like through him as if he was glass.

»Hey, [Nickname], I almost thought about to report you missing. You're way too good at hiding, seashell,« chuckled Percy, placing his hands over yours, wanting to recoil his touch back instantly—shuddering in a flinch, when feeling how leathery and boney your hand was—but didn't, giving you a squeeze and interwoven his fingers with yours.

What happened to you? Thought Percy, swallowing hard as his breath threatened again to be stuck in his lungs. Licking over his lips—slightly nibbling and pulling on the skins.

»[Name],« he called your name, in a softer hushing voice, out again. Caressing with his thumbs over your hand and again you didn't reacted.

While giving you a short full body scan, Percy engulfed you slowly into a hug—pulling you close and slowly down to the sandy and scratchy pebble rock ground.

Your skin, which had a once healthy glow to it, looked now ashen pale sickly and had a leathery grease to it. Cheekbones, chubby baby fat gone, hollowed and sunken in—so were your eyes and eye-bags beneath it, darker than ever.

Percy could tell that you had lost significantly lost weight, leaving you more than just scrawny—boney skinny, with arms so thin like toothpicks and your ribcage showing through—in a sense—your shirt.

By Zeus, you looked more like a corpse than an actual human being.

~~~

When the sun had started to set ever so slowly in the late afternoon, Percy picked you up—realising, his mind now completely catching up on the fact how, weight losses you actually are—after talking your ear off with everything he had on his mind, unconsciously making you fall asleep and carrying you back to the Apollo Cabin.

Laying you down onto your bed, Percy sat down next to you for a few more minutes of moments, while Will—who had nodded at him solemnly when he had entered the Cabin with you—passed out from exhaustion—in his arms—had drawn the curtains close around your bed as you never liked it to sleep in such open space, where everyone could watch you.

Percy examined your wrist, seizing up the freshly healed scars—which definitely weren't from a fight or sparring—he had a hunch, a fucking good hunch, to what was happening to you and leaves you in nothing but a mere unresponsive hollowed shell of decay.

Clenching his eyes shut for a second and blinking away the tears, which started to build up with a pressuring burning in his eyes, Percy looked at Will—wanting some answers, clarification and confirmation.

»How long?«

»Probably started shortly after the final battle against Kronos and Luke.«

»Why didn't you guys told me sooner?«

Will shrugged his shoulders, folding some clothes—putting them down onto the empty chair—and checking your nightstand cabinet, mentally noting down which of your medications and prescriptions needed to be refilled.

»Everyone handles Traumatic experiences differently and I've noticed it rather late, which mind you I'm still upset with myself about it, the telltale signs. Then again, you know how my brother is, never wanting to burden anyone,«

Percy swallowed, remembering it clearly—the traumatic experience, Will was talking about;

Luke in your arms, whispering apologies with his last remaining breaths to you and you reassuring him, that while you're still angry with him—about his stupidity of decision he made—you would forgive him and telling a lie of how everything gonna be okay.

And then, Percy had only walked away for a few seconds to get Will or Lord Apollo, when a piercing scream—your scream, so full of desperation and sorrow—echoed through, Percy stopped dead in his tracks.

Turning around fast, Percy looked at you with an horrific expression. You who is covered in blood and other bodily things, which he not dared to say out loud.

Lukes blood to be exact, then Luke—while still talking to you, in his hoarsely dying voice—had exploded, Kronos last dying act of breath itself, into a gruesome splattering thickly bloody mass.

So yeah, Percy knew very well what Will was talking about and a topic which had never been addressed properly with you, without sending you into a hysterical panic.

~~~

When Percy had retired back to his own Cabin, falling easily into sleep, he knew the dream—which were more a foretelling—he had, was a sign that this summer was just like the last few ones—filled with prophecies and adventures.

And in all this where you—getting dragged around, hair turning from ash grey into a snow white and leaving you more vulnerable crippled than before—losing perhaps the last part of your sanity to continue to live on.

Percy felt scared. He couldn't lose you. He just couldn't and he won't as you're his everything—his seashell to his waves.

[theflyindutchwoman]

I have wanted for quite some time to dissect the door imagery that has been present a lot this season in regards to Chenford. And Chenfordsource just inspired me to dig into this with this amazing gifset. As you may know, in literature or cinematography, a door can often be used as an allegory. Mostly to symbolise a new beginning or a barrier to overcome. Now this isn't the first time that a door is used symbolically in Tim and Lucy's relationship : the door-to-door scene in the quarantine house is iconic for a reason. But since their practice kiss, with Tim standing on the other side of Lucy's door, still reeling, it has been an ongoing motif. One that seems to have been used as a metaphor to show the status and progress of their relationship.

In Double Down (5.01), there are two major moments involving a door. The first one happens in the hotel room in Vegas, when Lucy goes to the bathroom and leaves the door ajar, breaking Tim's brain a bit more in the process. And just like she tried to shut that bathroom door, she tries to shut down his attempt to discuss their feelings… Which brings us to the second moment : the one outside her apartment. Where she invites Tim in and where he crosses both a literal and figurative threshold (the difference in the lighting when Lucy opens the door is perfect). It may not be a new beginning per se, but this moment still marks a turning point in their relationship. In Labor Day (5.02), they are right back outside that door, in the hallway, any progress from the previous episode seemingly undone. Interestingly enough, the door to her place stays open the whole time : Lucy is the one trying to open up this time and start the conversation about them but Tim stops her. Note the lingering shot of Tim walking away in the hallway : in terms of allegory, a hallway can be used as a device to show a longer transition to arrive to that new beginning. And this is exactly how it feels here : things are changing but it's going to take some time.

And during this limbo, we encounter two very different doors, that are used to reinforce the theme of Tim as a protector. The first door, in Dye Hard (5.03), resembles more one of a prison, with Lucy being stuck behind it. The same way she is imprisoned metaphorically by Rosalind and the threat she represents. And the same way Tim was the one to free her from that barrel in Day of Death, he's the one who manages to open the door - by sheer force. But they were still separated by the door at first (and Lucy couldn't get away faster if she tried). This is when they are at their lowest point. On the other hand, the second one, in The Collar (5.08), is used as a shield with both of them standing together : Tim gets Lucy to safety behind their shop's door, protecting her against any potential shrapnel. This is also when their relationship is almost back to normal and close to finally move forward.

Now in Take Back (5.09), we go back to the original imagery of the door, with that shot of Lucy standing alone in her apartment, door open. The message couldn't be clearer here : with Chris leaving, it leaves the door wide open for Chenford. And it's also worth noting that the next time we see Tim and Lucy, at the station, she is the one crossing a threshold (Grey's office). New beginnings.

The motif could have stopped there… But it doesn't. In Death Notice (5.12), we see Tim knocking at Lucy's door : this is right before they start discussing the last obstacle they are facing - the chain of command. The second this issue is solved - and they move to the next stage of their relationship (intimacy) - her entrance door is no longer used as a barrier of some sort between them. They either enter together (5.22) or he lets himself in because he has the key (5.14). Not only that, but the imagery of the door is now used in a more traditional setting : to block outsiders from entering or catching intimate moments, as shown in 5.12 (with her bedroom's door, which is also put to good use) and in 5.21 (with the laundry room). And notice how she is no longer asking him if he wants to come in, she simply tells him to lock the door. We've come full circle...

[misstycloud]

Patient care

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Yandere doctor x amnesiac fem reader

——————-

The white walls, slightly stained with old grime, were an unfulfilling view. Nothing interesting to look at, they didn't have any sort of art on them. Just simple, plain, white walls. The most stimulating on it would be the crack, but even that wasn't enough sustain her currently. It was hard, being stuck in one place without any sort of entertainment, with only your own thoughts to pass time. But those were also few in a way, that's what happens when you don't have anything to think of. No memory of a family outing, no memory of friends, no memory of doing things you like. Absolutely nothing, an empty mind. Memories were what makes you, you. They form you from youth to adolescent, to maturity. It's the experience. So what do you do if you don't have that? If you just plopped out as an adult and is excepted to live life out there.

That's how (Y/n)'s life currently was. She woke up one day in an unfamiliar room. One with the same plain walls she was presently staring at. At first she was scared and confused. How did she end up there? Then doctors showed up and told her she'd been in an accident, and she was lucky to survive. Her most urgent question had been, who was she? They'd looked at her with pity, and said that they were prepared that it might've happened. She asked what they meant and they responded by diagnosing her with dissociative amnesia. Well that would explain it. Why she couldn't remember a thing. Besides the inital confusion about her whereabouts, there was also an underlying turmoil around herself, her identity. It's usually normal to be disoriented after waking up from an accident, but she quickly realised she couldn't recall anything else.

(Y/n) had hoped the memories would come back gradually, after some time had passed. But sadly nothing came up and she continued laying in her room with no familiarity. Sometimes she wondered if she even had a family to begin with. Why else wouldn't they visit her in the hospital? Perhaps she was in bad terms with them and that the reason she never heard about anyone coming in, asking for her. Maybe she didn't have any friends either. It made her very lonely, spending the days almost completely by herself. At least the staff was nice, nurses and doctors would stop and speak with her, form time to time, to rid her of isolation. She was very thankful for it, they were sacrificing their own time of their busy schedule to help her. When she gets released she'll return and bring them gifts for taking such good care of her. Too bad the food wasn't as favourable, it lacked taste and the consistency was weird and left an uncomfortable feeling in her mouth. But she was saved from her misery by the doctor she was assigned, he would sometimes sneak her things from outside, and they definitely tasted better than the hospitals horrible cuisine.

Her doctor was a very kind to her and she enjoyed his company. It felt like he understood and really listens to her, when she explains her concerned thoughts. He didn't lack any playfulness either, despite being a medical professional trained to care for the most illfated people. It was a tough job, and she admired him for not losing the compassionate side when dealing with certain patients. She however noticed that he treated her alighly better than other patients. For example, she was the only one he risked sneaking food to. The medic also stayed and accompanied her the longest. The others he mostly treated and when he was done, left. But she suspected it connected to her amnesia. He just felt bad for her, that's all.

Speaking of, it appeared that it was time for her check-up. (Y/n) glanced over to the door as soon as she heard voices behind it, and when it opened her gaze landed on her doctor. His dark eyes seemed to sparkle in delight when they met her (e/c) ones, it was probably the lighting she tought. She observed when he finished his discussion with the colleague to his left, before entering the room and closing the door behind him. He smiled at her and she returned the gesture.

He approached her bed and sat on a chair next to it, so he was close to her.  Happily he greeted her and said.

"Hello, how are you feeling today, (Y/n)?"

"I'm good Dr. Harrt, I'm feeling more energetic with everyday."

"Yes. That is...it's good." Dr. Harrt put on a pleased expression on his handsome face. It turns out, Dr. Harrt is the youngest medical professional working in the hospital. He earned his degree at the age of 24, and has worked at this hospital for four years. People call him a genius, for his tributes and effort within the biomedical research. Adding to his popularity is his evident attractiveness. Many swoon over his tall, lean frame. The curly black hair looking healthy and soft, with those gentle brown eyes. Who wouldn't want to date him.

After writing whatever doctors do, on his clipboard, the youn man turned to his patient and explained. "You're doing well,-" (Y/n) perked up at this, Dr. Harrt put up a finger to stop her "-but I can't release you yet."

"What, why?" She'd hoped to get out of there soon. Turns out she's have to wait even lonnger.

"It's because of your muscles. "

"My...muscles?" What did her muscles have to do with it?

"Yes, it appears they won't heal very well, and it'll take time to get their strength back."

(Y/n) turned her head down in dismal. She began playing with her fingers in a nervous habit. "Um, how long will it take?"

He sighed. "It's hard to say, a few months at worst."

No, she didn't want to be stuck there for months. She already had a hard time being there for a few weeks, now she'd have to add months to her time. What is she going to do during that time? The books in the hospital were all aimed at children, and those that weren't had she already read or wasn't interested in.

Going outside was something she'd like, but Dr. Harrt said he didn't recommend it. Even though others told her they thought she'd be fine, but what could they do, Dr. Harrt was their superior and they weren't in charge of her treatment.

A soothing voice broke her line of thought. "Why are you in a hurry, huh? Where are you planning to head to, hehe?"

When (Y/n) thought about it, where would she even go? She didn't know where she lived, or any other place she could crash. Money was something she didn't have either, so no hotel. The young woman peered at her doctor through pieces of hair, he simply gave her an innocent smile. She sighs and chose to change the subject.

"Has..has anyone come asking about me?"

His expression changed into that of a pitying one. "No, sorry. No one has come by searching for you."

"Oh..okay."

Sighing, the man stood up and said. "Get some rest, dear. You'll need it." And then left, closing the door gently but not before sending her one last smile.

(Y/n) laid down and pulled the covers over her body, and tried to sleep. Too bad it didn't come to her like she wished. So she laid there and thought about what was to come.

In the hospital break room sat a handsome man, in front of him a cup of coffee. The steam could be seen rising up from it. He sipped slowly on the beverage while straining his eyes on the flat screen ahead of him. The reporter on the news channel was talking about a case.

"The police found multiple deceased people, they were all discovered buried in the forrest. After completing a DNA test, they were able to confirm all the victims were related."

"Awful, right?"

Turning around, he saw one of his colleagues, nurse Abby. He refocused his attention on the TV and replied in a monotone voice. "Yeah."

"The police suspected that one of the family members may have escaped, but after they found evidence of struggle, speculate they might not have survived after all. They have however, still not discovered a body."

“How can someone do that to other people? Disgusting.” Abby made a disgusted face at the atrocities shown on the screeen. What she didn’t notice was her companion’s dark gaze sweep over her form. He clicked his younger in annoyance and suggested.

“Maybe there’s a reason behind it. Don’t judge before you know the whole picture.”

“But they were people, a family. You can’t justify murder, like that!” She exclaimed, appalled at his suggestion.

“What if they were bad people, and deserved it.”

The nurse furrowed her eyebrows and stood by her claim. “No, you still can’t kill people for it. If they were bad you should just let them rot in jail or something.”

“Right…” Dr. Harrt gave up and let her win the argument. She wasn’t worth his time anyway, she wouldn’t understand his point of view. Feeling tension in the awkward silence, Abby decided to bring up his patient.

“Ahem, eh how is it going with your patient?”

“It’s going great. Why are you asking?” He raised an eyebrow at her sudden inquiries.

“No, I’m just curious. Actually now that I think about it, shouldn’t she be discharged soon?”

The doctor’s grip on the mug tightened in response. He replied with rigid manner. “No, she isn’t.”

“But I thought she’d be fine by now. She should be mostly healed, right?”

“She’s not quite ready.”

“No, really I think that-“

“Are you questioning my judgement?” He hissed “who is in charge of her, me or you?” The doctor fixed his alarming glare on her. Deep down, something in Abby knew that she shouldn’t challenge him further or she’ll regret it.

“No, sir. Sorry of course you know best.”

Apologising was probably the best course of action. “My break is almost over, so I should go now.” She excused herself and left the room, leaving the doctor grumbling by himself.

“Fucking nosy bitch.”

Dr. Harrt brought the cup to his lips and instantly put it back down in disappointment.The coffee had gone cold.

Walking down the dimly lot corridors, the young doctor greeted everyone he passed with a wave. It was night time and nearly all patients were asleep, the staff quietly checking that things are in order. Harrt made his way toward a certain patients room. His favourite little amnesiac. He was so happy she didn’t remember a thing. Not that she got hurt in the process though, but it was fruitful. It had to happen. All so he could have her. Finally.

Now she won’t run anymore. He absolutely hated when she looked at him in fear in her eyes, it made him feel like a monster. Which he of course wasn’t, he’d never hurt her! He just wanted to cherish and love her, it’s not like he was directly responsible for the accident.

Carefully opening the door as to not wake his darling, she was so adorable when she slept. Her chest rising and falling in time with each breath. Standing by her bed, the secret admirer adoringly stared at her sleeping face. He softly stoked her cheek, and proceeded to move to her patient IV. Then he reached down into his pocket and in is hand was a syringe. It was filled with a clear liquid, he let it run into her IV.

There, that should do it. He knows he can’t keep her in the hospital forever. But where would she even go if she was discharged, she doesn’t have any family anymore. Her friends have been long gone as well. He wouldn’t mind helping his parient out though.

Good that his home has room for one more.

——————

[tmnt-tychou]

Previous shorts from this AU:

“Branded”

“The Pitt Boss”

This AU is meant for adult audiences and is not a happy, fluffy story. If you are easily triggered, this story/AU is not for you. Read at your own discretion.

The Favored

A Battle Nexus AU short

The last rule that Master Splinter had ever given them was this: never allow themselves to be separated from their brothers. Leaving the dojo, they were told to watch out for one another, protect each other. Always stay together, no matter what.

They were young then. They didn't understand the importance of their sensei's words at the time. The wisdom of his warning became clear far too quickly. Every bad thing that happened to them happened when they were alone. It was a lesson all of them had to learn the hard way. Now, in their thirtieth year, the turtle brothers stuck to each other like glue. But there still had to be exceptions to the rule.

The Daimyo had summoned Leonardo to the palace. He had no choice but to obey. Opportunities to curry favor with the magistrate were rare. The Daimyo was known to be fickle. So to reject any invitation was unwise and would most assuredly earn his ire—if not his fury.

As such, Leonardo allowed himself to be escorted from the cell he shared with his brothers in the pits. The three stood at the door, silently watching him leave with wary eyes. He was taken to the palace—as had happened before. Usually, this meant the Diamyo was hosting one of his large, extravagant parties. As he had become accustomed to, Leonardo was taken in through the back entrance where he was bathed and then dressed in silk robes. Far more proper attire to go before his lord.

He sat on his knees patiently as he was adorned with blue paint, the color he wore in battle. In the arena, it was slapped over him in sloppy patterns with a dry, stiff brush. Here, the palace staff  neatly drew delicate patterns upon his skin to pretty him up. To cover all the scars. As he was escorted down the servant hallways, he passed a mirror. The paint always made him look too feminine, too delicate. But he supposed that was what had been requested.

The party was already in full swing when Leonardo was led into the lavish room. A feast on long tables adorned the fall wall. A group of musicians played lively tunes while guests from many different lands danced and chatted happily with one another. Everything was lavish, plush, fresh. Leonardo was gristled, torn, damaged. He didn't belong in a place like this. Yet, his presence was requested nearly every time an even like this occured.

A guard remained on either side of him, watching his every move. No one announced his entrance. No one paid him any mind. Leonardo didn't expect them to. Though he was here by the Daimyo's invitation, he was under no misconception that he was any sort of guest. If anything, he was more like the entertainment.

The two guards remained on either side as Leonardo presented himself to the Daimyo, seated on his throne. He was an absolute mountain of a man, towering over all his subjects when he stood. Hair that used to be a fiery red—as fiery as his temper—was now nearly stark white with age. Leonardo knelt humbly before the lord, eyes lowered. His Magesty nodded in approval. No other Battle Nexus warrior—no matter how many victories he claimed—had ever been invited to the palace. It wasn't their place. The warriors were dangerous, feral. Some were even criminals.

But Leonardo, the leader of his champion team, had become favored of the Daimyo. Unlike many of his fellow fighters, he was educated, well-spoken, as well as polite and respectful. This caught the attention of not just the ruler of this land, but others in positions of power. And when Leonardo stood to face the party, many of the guests were pleased to see him.

As was expected of him, he walked into the crowd and talked politely to anyone who approached. Diplomats, politicians, the rich and influential. They knew him by name. Everyone did. He was famous in his own way. They told him of the matches they had seen of him and his brothers in the Battle Nexus. Leonardo always graciously thanked them for their praise and for their attendance. It was always expected of him to encourage attendance and patronage of the arena. Though to him, it made no difference. He would have to fight, no matter who came.

The party guests always approached him carefully at first, then they would crowd closer as Leonardo spoke in soft, polite tones. They would get bolder and more drunk as the night went on. They would forget he was a warrior; they would forget he was a killer. An animal kept in a cage, only brought out to fight and entertain. His clean robes and beautiful body paint were his disguise. And they were all easily fooled.

They would touch him, tentative at first, then boldly. His paint would be smudged by the end of the night by inebriated party guests who wanted to see what a turtle mutant's skin and shell felt like. They never asked, they just touched. And Leonardo had to allow it. Men and woman both would ask him inappropriate questions about his body and his relationship with his brothers and other fighters. Sometimes they would try to coax or even order him to take off his robes. Leonardo would always have to be charming and coy. He would have to dance out of awkward topcis and steer them back to polite conversation.

And then, when they were done touching and taking up his space, they would want him to put on a show. Someone would suggest the captain of the Battle Nexus Champion team show them why he deserved that title. They would want to see a demonstration of his skill and prowess. Someone always suggested it in a joking voice. Then another would agree as if it were such a novel thing. But Leonardo knew it always ended this way. And the guards who kept a sharp eye on him were always prepared.

Then, the most unheard of thing would happen. He would be given a pair of swords. Beautiful, ornate weapons with blue ribbons trailing delicately from the hilts. The kind of caliber he had only ever touched in the palace. A far cry from the dingy, blood-stained hunks of metal they gave the fighters in the ring.

With swords in hand, he would kindly request a generous amount of space before the throne. The Daimyo always had a front row seat in the show. The party went quiet as the band stopped their jovial strumming and the flutist would begin with a slow, haunting melody. And then, Leonardo would dance.

It was the only part he enjoyed. The music filled him, moved him. He could block out all the silent eyes watching and sink into his own world. A world of motion, strength and grace. He floated over the floor in a series of complicated katas, punctuated with kicks, spins and flips. The beautiful blades he held sang their own song as they cut through the air, going faster and faster. Leonardo was granted a small moment where he was only full of flight and music. Where he could pretend his hands weren't stained with blood, his body covered in scars. That he was free.

As he danced, all eyes were on him, and his attention was turned inward. But a motion caught his eye. An extra person up by the throne where no one else should be. Leonardo was already in motion, his body in its deadly dance, blades in his hand. A high jump, a spin, and one of the swords flew out of his hand with deadly precision.

It shot directly toward the Daimyo and embedded itself in the wood support beam next to his head. The long, delicate blade vibrated from the impact as everyone gasped. The Daimyo looked at his fighter—his property—with rage that his prize fighter would ever dare to do such a thing. Then he heard the wet gurgle behind him. He looked to see a female feline mutant, one of the servers at the party, was pinned by the sword, the blade going into her neck. Blood dribbled down her furry throat as she looked at the Daimyo with hate and rage. As she sucked in her last breath, a small knife that had been meant for the Daimyo himself fell from her hand and clattered on the floor.

Everyone was staring at everyone else in wide eyes. An attempt on the Daimyo's life and no one had been watching. In his own home by one of his own servants.

With rage, the Daimyo yanked out the blood-soaked blade and stared with fire at Leonardo. The party guests were dead quiet and even backing away further. They were all suddenly reminded that this turtle in their midst was no party guest, no entertainer, but a trained killer.

With the Daimyo's heated stare upon him, Leonardo immediately lowered his gaze and dropped to one knee in humble servitude. The crowd parted as the Daimyo descended the stairs, sword still dripping blood in his hand. Leonardo kept his gaze low and head down as the much larger man towered over him. The lord's shadow covered him, blocking out the light.

“You...you have just saved my life,” the Daimyo said with wonder in his voice.

Leonardo had taken no pleasure in killing a fellow mutant, especially one who wasn't a trained fighter. He understood the hate mutants had for the lord of this land. He understood how they were all mere property to the Daimyo and his subjects. But her death would have been for more gruesome, more painful, if she had lived to be arrested for her crime.

“I am your servant and your protector, Highness,” he said humbly.

“For what you have done, I grant you one favor. I will take you out of the Battle Nexus. I will give you a job in my palace. I will make you one of my personal guards, if you wish it.”

A murmur rose from the crowd. Anyone could end up in the Battle Nexus, but no one got out of it. It was the very last stop for anyone caught in its hold.

“I...I thank you for your generous offer, Highness,” Leonardo said carefully. His heart raced in fear. “But I cannot accept. I cannot leave my brothers.”

The Daimyo frowned. “You reject my favor? You reject a gift from your Daimyo?”

The murmurs rose up.

Leonardo bent down lower, prostrate on the ground. His forehead touched the floor in submission. He tried his best to keep the shaking out of his voice.

“I require no reward for your protection. It is my duty, my honor, to be of service. I humbly request to stay with my family and to bring you glory with my team.”

The Daimyo looked down at the shell of the mutant below him and the anger slowly seeped out of him.

“Very well. If this is your wish, I will allow it. You may return to your brothers.”

Though no one else could see, Leonardo closed his eyes and sighed in relief. “Thank you.”

By now, it was clear the party would not continue as guards were already dragging the dead mutant away, leaving a trail of blood. The Daimyo told his turtle subject to rise and then gave him a dismissive motion. Guards approached to relieve Leonardo of his remaining sword and to escort him out of the party. He was more than happy to leave.

But he didn't get too far from the party when a male voice followed him out.

“Leonardo.”

That voice crawled up his shell like a spider and he had to fight not to cringe and frown.

“Your Highness,” he said with deference as he turned around

The Daimyo's son leaned against the wall, his frame tall and lean. His expression always slightly disingenuous. He had been at the party and often in Leonardo's line of sight. Most likely on purpose. Leonardo had pretended to never notice him. “Quite a show you gave us out there. You scared a few of the ladies. I think they had forgotten how dangerous you can be.”

“Your father was almost killed,” the turtle reminded. “I did what I had to do.”

“Yes, how lucky for him you were there.” He sounded very unconcerned that he had nearly lost his parent that night. “Too bad the party had to end early. I'm going to keep the festivities going elsewhere with some friends. You must join us.”

Leonardo set his jaw. All he wanted was to go back to his brothers, but the prince waved the guards away. Leonardo watched them go with a sinking in his chest. He wanted to leave with them. He wanted to be out of this place.

The Daimyo's son slid up to him, slipped a finger under his chin to turn the turtle's ice blue eyes up at him.

“You will come with me,” the prince grinned. An order, not a request. And it was just as dangerous to ignore his invitation as it was his father's.

He leaned down to claim the mutant's mouth. Kissed the fighter without fear. Pressed his body into the firm plastron and ran his hands over solid muscle, mussing the body paint even more.

Leonardo allowed it. He had no other choice.

***************

On nights like this, the brothers never slept, even though the morning would come all too soon and it would be back to heavy training. There would be no sleep if one of them was missing.

In the waning hours of the night, a dispassionate and tired Leonardo was escorted back to his cell and locked inside with his brothers. The other three greeted him in relief. Though he had been returned to them every time, there was always that fear that one day they would never see him again.

He was back in his old, threadbare clothes with a few smears of blue body paint still on his arms and face. More often than not, he would return from the palace smelling like other people. The scent of so many other people all over him. Some smells stronger than others. One smell in particular was always there.

Raphael remembered the first time Leonardo was returned to them, smelling of strangers and looking so hollow inside. He was never one who liked to be touched. That aversion made him sharper and faster in the arena. But that night, he had curled up against Michelangelo and shoved his snout in his brother's neck, desperate to smell something familiar.

The first few times, he had talked about the palace, about the parties and what it was like. After that night, the night when he looked so hollow, he never talked about it again. The brothers never asked. They already knew. And they would let their proud, fearless brother curl up against them on the nights when he came back, covered in the stink of everything non-mutant and non-turtle. They would let him smell their familiar smell until he no longer felt like he was going to throw up from the stench of it. They would curl up around him so he would smell like them instead. Like reptiles and dank, musty cells. It wasn't a home, but it was what smelled safe to all of them.

That night, instead of merely resting against his brothers to sleep, Leonardo was extra clingy. Raphael grunted as he was practically in a hug from his brother.

“Jeeze, Leo. You okay?”

Into his shoulder, Leonardo whispered. “I almost didn't make it back.”

The pile of turtles reacted like the coils of a snake, tightening around their team captain. Keeping him with them. Above all else, they had to adhere to their sensei's order. They always, always had to stay together.

Tag List: @thelaundrybitch @turtle-babe83 @red-phoenixxx @leosgirl82 @dilucsflame33 @akesdraws-blog @happymoonangel @fluffytriceratops @beautifulfunanchor @asultrysiren

[queen-of-writing-bad-things]

Henry Danger Reader Insert | Captain Man x Reader: SEASON 3

Episode 16: Stuck in Two Holes

Swellview's greatest crime fighters were constantly out and about chasing down scum. It was in the job description; someone breaks the law, they sort them out after an epic battle, scum goes to prison, a job well done. But that wasn't tonight. Tonight, Captain Man and Kid Danger weren't going up against Doctor Minyak or The Toddler or anyone of evil, they were running after Jeff, the stupidest guy in Swellview. 

"Where'd he go?" Henry yelled to Ray as they ducked and dodged the dumpsters that littered the backstreets of Swellview. For such a chubby guy, Jeff was pretty zippy on his feet and he was somehow managing to outstrip them as he made for an abandoned building.

"He went down the alley! Where are you, Jeff?!" Ray shouted as they marched down the dark alley and squinted for any movement. This was stupid, Jeff wasn't bright enough to evade capture for long and the more he ran, the more agitated the superheroes were getting.

"You're making it worse by running!" Henry added, hoping that the criminal would do the smart thing and give up. The problem was that Jeff didn't even know the meaning of smart and just moved his little legs faster. 

"Shut up!" He snapped over his shoulder and jumped through the cracked window of the old movie rental place at the end of the alley. It would be a good hiding place if he had more than two brain cells, but the noise of the smashing glass told the superheroes exactly where he was.

"Come on!" "Let's get him!.. We saw you go in there, Jeff!" Ray and Henry ran faster towards the store, their words prompting Jeff to panic as he thought about what to do or more importantly, where to hide. He had no energy left to run, so the dusty old shelves full of cassette tape cases would have to do as his protection. The criminal cracked open an old tape and began to unravel the film inside, hoping that he could use it as cover or a distraction.

"All right, come on. Let's go in through the window." Henry panted as he and Ray peered through the smashed hole left by Jeff. It wasn't ideal, crawling through a load of sharp glass, but if it meant that they could get in, it would suit them just fine.

"Nah, let's use the door," Ray told him, preferring to walk into the building cooly in a manner that would be safer than squeezing through the small gap in the window. Jeff could surprise attack them or something if they were caught unawares and they were hoping for a clean, easy capture tonight. 

"Door's probably gonna be locked," Henry argued, trying to get his boss to slow down and think about things. Usually, it was (y/n)'s job to keep him calm and sweet, but she'd been reluctant to come out that night, on the count that she was a tad depressed after turning thirty in the week. Sure, she'd had a big party with her friends and even some family, plus loads of presents but it was hard to say goodbye to her twenties. Since it was just a Jeff problem that night, Ray had allowed his sweet girl to stay at home with one of her cheesy rom-coms. If all went to plan, he'd be back with her in no time, if this moron complied that was.

"That's okay, I brought my foot." The large man quipped and swiftly kicked the door in, allowing him and his sidekick to enter the rental store with ease. Jeff had tucked himself behind one of the old security canners and held the film top over his face so they couldn't see him as easily and to be fair, it was a rather clever disguise. 

"All right, Jeff. Where is your stupid...self?" Ray yelled, looking around for the idiot who had forced him away from his girl that night. He wasn't particularly interested in whether Heather and Michael get together after the Christmas Party as the movie trailer promised, but he was interested in snuggling up with his girlfriend and inevitably dragging her into a make-out session when he got bored. All that he gave up, just for dumb Jeff.

"AHHHHH!" The moron charged at him and wrapped the shiny tape around his neck and face. Jeff had hoped that the scratchy plastic would distract Captain Man long enough to let him escape, but it wasn't hard for Ray to just push him away and let Kid Danger deal with him.

"Will you quit it?!... I don't know how you escaped jail or why you jumped through that window, but—" The sidekick scolded Jeff, quickly getting him under control, sort of. Seeing that his first plan hadn't worked, the moron switched tactics and thought it was a brilliant idea to punch Henry in the nose. It was a pathetic blow, just enough to make the boy stagger back and enrage Ray, who wasn't about to watch his honorary little brother get beat up like that by someone so thick. "Jeff!" 

"Owww, what happened to using our words, man?" Henry winced, wrinkling his nose as the dull ache spread through his face. It wasn't the worst pain he'd ever experienced, far from it, but that didn't mean he wasn't offended. Since when did Jeff cross lines like that?

"All right, you dopey thug, time for your nap!" Ray exclaimed and whipped his laser control from his belt so he could zap Jeff into a slumbering state. He wanted him to go down nice and simple, but when the green laser stung the delinquent's shoulder, all it did was burn him a bit. He didn't lose consciousness or get sleepy, he just groaned like a baby. "Owwwww! You bass-hat!"

"Wait, why did your laser not knock him out?!" Henry gasped as Jeff ran away to hide. Normally, their gadgets worked perfectly, so to have a malfunction was a tad worrying.

"I don't know." Ray shrugged, tucking it back into his belt in confusion whilst Jeff peeked over the shelves. 

"It's 'cause I'm tough as butt, that's why! Ha!..Ow, you horse pile!"Jeff bragged, forcing Henry to try out his laser instead, but the same again, it just made the guy yelp. 

"Wait, what's wrong with these things?" Henry tapped it against his palm, hoping that a bit of brute force would get the lasers to work. Damn, why was (y/n) never around when they needed her technical expertise? She would know what to do.

"I don't know, unless...did you forget to charge these last night like (y/n) told you to?" Ray hissed, suddenly remembering how she had notified the kid to hook up their lasers to their charging docks before he went home for the night. He would've done it or her, but he had been rather impatient to have her to himself and had dragged her off before they could check if the job had been completed properly.

"Uhh....well..." Henry stuttered. That would be a no, then. The lasers were burning up the very last of their energy supply, meaning that each shot was a quarter of its typical strength so taking down Jeff would be a lot harder than normal.

"Ha-ha!" The crook chuckled as he overheard how Captain Man and his young apprentice were completely unprepared for the battle and tried to run past them, only for the superheroes to shoot him again. Just because they weren't very strong, it didn't mean that the lasers weren't working; each shot zapped away a crumb of Jeff's strength, so cumulatively speaking, a gazillion lasers would knock him out...hopefully.

"How could you forget to charge the lasers?!" Ray reprimanded the teen, annoyed that they were now gonna have to work a lot harder when all he wanted to do was go home and have a quiet evening in front of the TV with (y/n). 

"I was gonna charge the lasers but then you made me go get you a pumpkin-spiced latte, which you're obsessed with, whilst you loved it up with your girlfriend, who you're obsessed with too!" Henry argued back, not seeing how it was entirely his fault. Yeah, sure, he'd been given an important job, but no one could forget how whiny Ray got without his favourite coffee or when he was forced to leave his sweet girl's side.

"Yeah, well, you can't get pumpkin-spiced lattes all year round, y'know! It's a seasonal item! And so what if I "love it up" with my girlfriend?! You know she's been feeling like crap since her birthday." Ray frowned. He'd spent years wishing (y/n) would love him, even just a tiny bit, but now that his dreams had come true, everyone kept teasing him. Seriously, he couldn't win.

"All right, I'm sorry I didn't charge the lasers, okay?" Henry sighed, knowing that it was true. (y/n) had been feeling a bit down and he didn't blame Ray for trying to cheer her up. If he had a girlfriend, he'd probably have done the same.

"Oh, you're sorry? What if we'd been going after a real criminal, huh?" Ray proposed, gesturing to Jeff whose mouth dropped open in insult.

"Hey! I'm a real criminal!" He disputed, thinking that he caused enough general chaos around the city to be deemed a criminal. A petty criminal, but a criminal nonetheless.

"A real stupid one!" Henry yelled back, having had quite enough of his lip for one day. Jeff needed to know when to shut up.

"Ha, I'm stupid? You two are the ones with inadequate lasers." The guy laughed at them and made a fair point, even if it was jarring. The lasers were crap, but that didn't mean they were useless.

"Oh, that's it!" Ray exclaimed and he and Henry shot their lasers at Jeff to make him squeal. They weren't so inadequate now.

"Ow, quit it!" Jeff whined and collected an armful of leftover movie cases that he could use as projectiles. The hard plastic was good enough to throw at Captain Man and Kid Danger, who began to fire their lasers again as Jeff ran around the room, looking for an escape. 

"Get him!" Ray shouted as the lawbreaker dodged them and hopped around the shelves. He even threw a bag of ceiling insulation at them, which was easily caught by Ray and plonked down as he tried to run away. 

"Can't we just get some dinner or somethi--Ow!" Yeah, Captain Man didn't have dinner with criminals, especially not stupid ones. Jeff took a bunch of lasers to the torso, grunting from each one, and little by little, he was starting to feel drowsy.

"This is your fault, kid! Get him! Just get him, will you?!" Ray yelled as Jeff ducked between two shelves and one of the superhero's lasers went into Henry's eye. The idiot laughed at Kid Danger's pain but was soon met by soon angry zaps when his chuckles pissed the heroes off.

"Go down!" Captain Man ordered him as they kept firing, making Jeff yawn as he suddenly felt very sleepy. Oh good, the lasers were starting to do something.

"That one made me feel dizzy..." He slurred, beginning to get a little wobbly on his legs, but more shots were needed to make him truly lose consciousness. 

"One more...and one more." Ray panted, leaving Henry to fire the last laser before Jeff slumped to the dusty floorboards.

"Aw, that did it." He mumbled as his knees gave in and he fell face first, snoring a little as he began to dream about whatever Jeff dreams about. 

"Nice. Now, pick up all these movies and put 'em back on the shelves." Ray ordered Henry, not feeling like doing the task himself, but Henry couldn't understand why he would need to do that. 

"What? Why?" He asked, thinking it was pointless since these movies had long been left to rot. No one cared about how the place looked, it was abandoned for a reason.

"Because it's our responsibility to leave this stuff the way we found it," Ray answered, thinking that even if no one cared, he didn't want to be sued for criminal damage. Lawsuits were the number one way to ruin his image and he couldn't have that.

"But this place had been abandoned since like the 1900s." The teen argued, exaggerating only a little bit. If (y/n) was there, she would've had a lot to say about that, having so many happy memories of going to movie rental places as a kid of the eighties/nineties. 

"Just put the movies back on the shelves," Ray repeated. It was a simple enough instruction and the longer he complained about it, the later Henry would go home that night.

"But it's dangerous. This place is falling apart!" Henry whined, feeling anxious about how damp and worn some of the ceiling beams and floorboards were. With his and Ray's combined weight, they were on the verge of snapping and he didn't fancy being skewered.

"Movies on the shelves," Ray said again through gritted teeth.

"But...(y/n) wouldn't make me do it! She likes safety!" The boy changed his tune, hoping that by mentioning what his girlfriend would do, Ray would change his mind, but no.

"On the shelves!"

"But what about the--"

"Shelves!" This could take some time. Both of them were too stubborn to let up since they both thought they had the higher moral argument and with no (y/n) the referee, it went on and on and on.

"But (y/n)--"

"Shelves!"

"What about the--"

"Shelves!"

"Gah! Henry relented. He sighed in annoyance but saw that his arguing was getting them nowhere and he really wanted to go home sooner rather than later. As Ray began to reorganise a few movies on display, Henry started collecting the few scattered across the floor. 

He had quite a few in his hands when he went to grab a movie about hamburgers or something and the floor began to make an ominous cracking noise. Before he could react (even with his super reflexes), Henry plunged through the floorboards, ending up unharmed, thank god, but completely immobilised as his arms were tightly pinned to his chest in the tight hole.

"Wha--" He gasped in shock, looking around momentarily before realising that he was well and truly stuck, just like he thought he would be when he was arguing only moments prior.

"Seriously? Now you wanna play?" Ray sighed as he turned around and saw his sidekick wriggling around in the hole. He just assumed that he was trying to be funny and didn't realise that they had a situation on their hands.

"I'm not playing! I fell through the stupid floor when I was picking up a VHS tape of Good Burger." Henry snapped, glancing at the copy of the old movie that brought back a lot of good memories for Ray.

"You found Good Burger? Where--ha! Oh my gosh, I love this movie! It was the first one (y/n) and I watched together after I hired her. Ha, welcome to Good Burger, home of the Good Burger--" In Ray's happy trip down memory lane, he didn't hear or feel the floor giving way beneath his feet until it was too late.

"Can I take your order?" He finished the jingle as Henry looked at him in irritation. Now, they were both in the same stupid position; totally, utterly, incomprehensibly stuck.

~The next day, in the Man Cave~

(y/n) had fallen asleep watching her movie that night, having assumed that Ray and Henry would return after a long, probably annoying fight with Jeff. She couldn't help but close her eyes after watching Michael chase Heather after the Christmas party and was blissfully ignorant to her boyfriend and friend's situation as she fixed her hair and makeup that morning before getting dressed. Yeah, it was a bit weird that she hadn't felt Ray crawl into bed that night or that he hadn't stayed in bed to try it on with her that morning like he usually did, but there was a first time for everything.

(Dunno, but I imagined this episode with an outfit like this, but you can choose something different if you like <3)

She walked down from the sprocket just as Jasper and Charlotte dropped down the tubes and the three were greeted by a very odd sight. For starters, the teens weren't meant to be working that day since Ray was nice enough to give them Sundays off and even stranger, Schwoz was sat in the middle of the room, wearing some leotard swimsuit thing, listening to music, bathing in a paddling pool full of...beans?

"What the hell?..." (y/n) breathed out as she took in the sight, sharing a confused look with Charlotte, but Schwoz wasn't phased. He thought being half-submerged in beans was normal.

"Hey, guys. Good morning, (y/n). What are you doing here on a Sunday?" He asked, looking from the kids to the woman, who couldn't help but throw in a sarky answer.

"I live here. Have you only just realised?" She joked, gesturing to the Man Cave's walls that called she called home. She was here seven days a week, hopefully for the rest of her life if everything went smoothly.

"No, them! Not funny!" The genius whined as the teens giggled at the young woman's silly comment, but focused on the question he'd clearly asked them.

"We're here to meet Henry," Jasper answered, circling the pool and looking at its content with a puzzled face. He had to admit, he was a bit weird at the best of times, but this traversed all levels of peculiarity. 

"And, uh, what are you doing?" Charlotte asked, also looking at the beans in confusion. She shouldn't be surprised, not after working with Schwoz for so long.

"I'm taking a bean bath." He shrugged like it was nothing before picking up a large spoon and taking a mouthful of beans. It was honestly disgusting as the water that filled the beans were near his...everything. "Mmmm, good beans."

"Why do you have those fancy gun doohickeys?" (y/n) gestured to the pistols in the teen's hands. She wondered where on earth they were going with them, but she guessed that it was probably some young thing she was too old to understand. Stupid birthday making her turn thirty.

"We're going with Henry to the squirt gun range," Charlotte told her, spinning her water pistol around her finger. The whole day was gonna be so fun, well, it would be if they ever found Henry.

"Yeah, where is Henry?" Jasper frowned and looked to (y/n) since she was typically with Ray and he had been out on duty with the kid last night. Henry hadn't been at home, so they'd automatically assumed that he'd come to work for some reason, but judging by (y/n)'s blank face, the news wasn't good.

"I haven't seen him. Schwoz, have you seen Henry?" She looked at the small man who was playing with his beans (not a euphemism), totally uncaring to the gravity of the situation.

"He and Ray went to capture Jeff yesterday and never came back." He replied, digging through his food as (y/n) practically went into a breakdown and Charlotte and Jasper stared at each other with open mouths.

"And you're not worried?" The teen girl snapped as (y/n) mussed up her perfectly groomed hair by worriedly raking her hands through it. Oh god, she'd just thought Ray would come back like he always did, she couldn't fathom the idea that something terrible had happened to him whilst she was sleeping like an idiot.

"I'm worried. I'm very worried. I knew I should've stayed up last night, god! I'm so stupid, I should've stayed up, I always stay up. Why didn't I stay up and make sure he came back? Shit, shit, shit!" (y/n) panted, hyperventilating at the thought of her boyfriend and Henry being tortured or worse, killed by a villain. Sure, they went after Jeff, but what if they'd run into trouble?

"Hey, could you guys grab that bucket of beans and pour it over my body?" Schwoz requested, spreading his arms and legs out like a starfish. He didn't realise that he was being necessarily cold and unkind, causing (y/n)'s temper to flare as Charlotte tried to keep her calm.

"No!"

"Gross!" She and Jasper grimaced whilst (y/n) pulled out her phone and looked to see if Ray had sent her any S.O.S messages. Admittedly, she hadn't looked at her texts that morning and felt awful that she'd been in la-la land, thinking about how she'd missed morning sex with Ray when he could be in real danger.

"Charlotte, call Henry. I'll call Ray after you." She instructed the girl, who was already on it, scrolling through her contacts until she saw Henry's goofy face.

"Come on, Henry, answer..." She mumbled, pacing around whilst the annoying chime rang in her ear. It was ringing, but judging from how long it was taking Henry to answer, he wasn't going to.

~Beta Maximus Movie Rentals~

Henry and Ray weren't dead, not yet anyway. The older man desperately needed to pee, his bladder was excruciatingly full, whilst Henry was suffering from an empty stomach. He wasn't quite on the brink of death but that didn't mean it wasn't uncomfortable.

"Come on, kid! Can't you reach your phone?" Ray snapped as his sidekick's phone started to vibrate in front of him. It was tantalisingly close but just out of his reach, teasing them by showing how help was so close but so far away. 

"No. I can't reach my phone, I'm in a hole. You know that." Henry replied in an eerily calm voice. He was beyond pissed off with the situation, any humour surrounding their predicament dissipating after they reached the ten-hour point. They struggled against the wood pressing their arms tightly to their chests, just as Ray's phone began to ring in his pocket.

"So hungry," Henry mumbled as Ray sighed sadly. He didn't even have to hear the ringtone to know that it was his sweet girl wondering where he was and it broke his heart to think about her panicking. He knew he'd be the same if she didn't come home after a night out and could only imagine how frantic her nerves were making her. 

"Yeah, well, I have to pee and my girlfriend is in the Man Cave freaking out about why I haven't come home." The superhero hissed, thinking that he had it much worse than Henry did. 

"Well, I'd much rather have to pee than be hungry." The boy retorted, rationalising that a need to be was temporary and easy to solve, whilst hunger was a bit trickier.

"You're wrong," Ray murmured in a funny voice that made his sidekick question whether he heard him correctly. "I'm--I'm wrong?"

"Peeing is greater than hunger." Ray clarified, even though secretly he thought that having a panicking girlfriend was much graver than either of them; more so when said girlfriend was known to naturally be a bit nervous, even if she had come on leaps and bounds in the last couple of years.

"Okay, look man, if you have to pee so bad, why don't you pee, all right? Just pee." Henry told his boss, who repulsed the idea. Henry wouldn't judge him but the idea just seemed so gross, what would (y/n) think?

"In my captain pants? That (y/n) has to clean?" He gasped at the notion and then shuddered at the thought of having to shyly admit what he'd done to his precious girl. She'd run a mile if she found out that he, a grown man, had wet himself.

"Yeah, why not?" Henry shrugged, not seeing why he was making such a fuss, but then again, he never knew how much of a worrier Ray was on the inside, especially when it came to how (y/n) saw him.

"You're sick." Ray hissed, throwing the idea out completely as he was sure that it would lead to nothing but humiliation and heartbreak.

"I don't think I'm sick." The blond boy replied. He believed that when you have to go, you have to go and (y/n) was way too in love with Ray to care about something so unbelievably, not his fault. She wouldn't mind, he was sure of it.

"Think again. Your whole generation is just...messed-up sick!" Captain Man growled, getting a little tetchy from how badly his bladder was cramping, how his heart was yearning for its soulmate and how after twelve, stinking hours, he was still trapped in the same fucking hole.

"You know, when you generalise..." Henry sighed, looking at Ray with a tired expression. All night he'd had to put up with this baby and he was starting to contemplate giving the young woman back at the base a medal for services rendered to the rest of society. 

"Yeah?"

"You tell...general lies." Henry finished rather poetically, which just aggravated Ray, even more, not to mention Jeff, who was still unconscious behind them and snoring away soundly. 

"AHHHH! I can't take it! I can't take Jeff's snoring anymore! Urghhhhhh!" Ray screamed, straining against the floorboards that were holding him captive, but they still wouldn't budge, not even with his super strength.

"I know, I know!" Henry quietened him in a way that (y/n) so often did; empathising with him and letting him see that he understood how he felt. "Let's yell at the same time."

"Good idea, maybe that'll wake him up. On three?" Ray nodded, liking the sound of them working together to make as much noise as possible.

"Yeah. One..." Henry counted them in and just after reaching two, they began to yell at the top of their voices. "JEFF! JEFF! JEFF! JEFF ONE! JEFFFFFF! JEFF JEFF! JEFFFF!" It wasn't a resounding success. The moronic criminal barely heard their shouts and merely rolled over onto his back so he could continue dreaming.

"I'm so hungry." Henry started it again, wishing he'd eaten a larger meal before going on duty last night. Maybe then he wouldn't keep saying the same stuff over and over again.

"I'm so pee-filled and I miss my girlfriend..." Ray sniffled, wishing more than anything that someone, anyone knew where they were so they could come help and luckily for him, that's just what was happening.

~Back in the Man Cave~

Whilst Charlotte and (y/n) were frantically tracking Ray and Henry's location on the supercomputer, Jasper was becoming more and more confused with Schwoz's bathing habits.

"Are you adding rice to your bean bath?" The teen boy exclaimed, watching as the genius used his spoon to sprinkle grains of rice over his beans.

"Yeah! What like I'm the first person in the world to mix rice and beans?!" He asked rhetorically, thinking his method wasn't weird, even though it definitely was. Schwoz was so special.

"Oh my god! Hey, hey, hey, I think we've found Ray and Henry!" (y/n) yelled to Jasper as the computer finally triangulated the superheroes location. Thank god their phones were still working, otherwise, they'd be lost forever.

"It looks like they're in that old store that used to rent movies," Charlotte told her friend, who had only vaguely heard about the store since it had closed long before he was born. "Beta Maximus?!"

"Yeah, that's the one." (y/n) nodded, quickly pulling out her phone and punching the address into her phone so she could find out exactly where they were going. All they needed now was a method of getting there.

"Hey, (y/n). Could you come over here please and help me--" Schwoz began, hoping he could get a little assistance in rubbing some beans and rice on his back. Why he would want that (y/n) didn't know but she did know that she wasn't going to help him in any way, shape or form.

"Schwoz, get this into your stupid head...NO!" She snapped, looking back down at her phone whilst Charlotte video called the police. Clearly, she didn't have much experience with Swellview cops and how incompetent they were.

"Swellview Police, what's your emergency?" An officer answered the call in a foul mood, but Charlotte brushed over it since she had a genuine crisis.

"You need to send a squad team to the old movie rental store in south Swellview, Beta Maximus." She told him quickly. However, the cop squinted at his screen and saw that this girl was young and probably immature, so he wasn't inclined to see the big deal. "Why? That place has been closed since the 1900s."

"Geez, make me feel old, man. I'm only thirty!" (y/n) grumbled under her breath, rolling her eyes at how stupid this man was. He was a prime example of how crap the police were.

"I know! But I heard that Captain Man and Kid Danger are there and I think there's big trouble." Charlotte carried on, trying to seem as worried as possible, but not even her best panic face could sway the cop. He was just too sceptical and too tired of teenage pranksters messing him about.

"Okay...I get it." He sighed, making the three listening to the call frown. "Uh, you get what?"

"You're a teenager, you're dumb and you're bored! So, you're prank-calling the police." The man insinuated, which deeply offended Charlotte. She would never do something so reckless and immature, her mother would kill her, not to mention Ray would probably fire her.

"Uh, no, sir, I'm just--" She tried to calm him down, glancing up at (y/n) with concerned eyes to which the woman just shrugged. This was why Captain Man and his sidekicks were always super busy, the police didn't believe anyone calling for help.

"You know, irritating a police officer is a felony!" The cop stated, making the woman snort from amusement. It was bullshit, made up with the intent of scaring a girl into hanging up. "I don't think that's true."

"Never call back here! Never!" Charlotte panicked as the policeman ended the call, leaving her and her friends stuck without any official help or decent manpower. Now, it was just two kids and their boss's girlfriend trying to save the superheroes.

"He hung up on me!" Charlotte exclaimed indignantly, feeling like strangling that good-for-nothing cop, but they didn't have time to hunt him down.

"Forget it, they're always useless. We'll just have to figure out something else. Schwoz, can you drive me, Jasper and Charlotte to Beta Maximus?" (y/n) turned to the handyman, who was reluctant to help out his boss because they had sort of, fallen out.

"For why?" He asked with a frown, wondering why on earth the woman would want to go to such a dilapidated shithole.

"For to help Ray and Henry," Charlotte replied. Honestly, why was he so unbothered? Did he want them to be tortured and die slow, painful deaths?

"...No!" Schwoz flat out refused, turning his nose up in the air as he remembered what Ray had told him a couple of days ago. He wasn't helping that man until he gave him what he wanted or apologised or both, not that his friends saw it that way.

"No? What the hell do you mean no?" (y/n) questioned angrily, her temper darkening when she heard how he was essentially willing to let Ray and Henry, who was just a kid, sit in the movie store and fend for themselves. It was so cruel and heartless.

"Last week, I asked Ray for a raise. You remember what he said to me?" The little man glared at her, but she just gave him a bored expression in return. That's what this was about? God, she worked with children, stupid, immature children and the biggest one was him!

"I vaguely remember but go on." She said flatly, putting her hands on her hips so she wasn't tempted to punch him in the face for being so self-centred. 

"He said, why don't you raise your hand and slap your face with it?" Schwoz explained. Honestly, Ray's answer was pretty funny and it was just how he was. If he wanted a raise, (y/n) would persuade her boyfriend to give him one; there was no need for so much aggro.

"Then he laughed. It was humiliating." Schwoz sulked at their giggles, sinking further into his bean bath. Well, he wasn't going to help.

"I've never gotten a raise, but whatever, dickhead. We can handle this ourselves, we'll just have to figure out another way of getting to Beta Maximus." (y/n) turned her back on him and looked at the kids for any suggestions.

"Can't you drive us?" Jasper asked, recalling how she could drive a car pretty well, but judging by the way she got all sheepish and nervous, no dice.

"I can drive, pretty well actually, it's just that...I sort of don't have a license." She muttered, shuffling from one foot to the other as she admitted the rather embarrassing truth. 

"What? Why?" Charlotte frowned, wondering why someone so eager to learn and go places, not to mention the whole superhero thing, hadn't taken a simple test to allow her to drive.

"I don't know, I just always stayed in here and when I needed to go places, Ray would drive me and this isn't helping us!" The young woman exclaimed as she realised they were getting off course. Her inability to adult was a story for another day, right now, they needed to get halfway across town and fast.

"Well, how are gonna handle--" Jasper paused mid-sentence as her phone began to ring and he panicked when he saw that it was Mr Hart on the line, most likely wondering where his son was.

"It's Henry's dad!" He hissed to the girls, who gulped at the thought of lying to a man about the whereabouts of his child. They didn't want to worry him by saying they didn't know if Henry was safe or not, but then again, they couldn't lie well enough to convince him otherwise.

"Oh, man! He's probably looking for Henry!" Charlotte whimpered and rubbed her hands together in worry. The last thing they needed was Mr Hart coming to Junk-N-Stuff.

"What are we supposed to say?! We can't tell him that Henry's possibly dead or kidnapped or lost or whatever!" (y/n) gestured to the phone and raked her hands through her hair. 

"No worries, I've got this!" Jasper smiled at them and answered the call in a chirpy voice, which faltered when Henry's dad's worried ranting came blaring out of the speaker. Okay, this was going to be hard. "Hey, Mr Hart...uhhhhh...please hold!"

"Yeah, you got that good!" Charlotte retired sarcastically as she heard how Jasper had just added to the problem. 

"Jasper, hand me your phone." Schwoz sighed and reached for the boy's cell. Well, at least he was interested in being helpful now.

"What are you up to?" (y/n) asked, to which Schwoz just shushed her and dug through some drawers near his paddling pool. Obviously, he was looking for something and (y/n) grinned when he pulled out a weird circle of metal that went on his head. So that's what he was up to.

"Testing one, two, three. This little Henry went to market, this little Henry stayed home. This little Henry ate a chicken breast, chicken breast, chicken breast. I'm Henry Hart and I ate a chicken breast." After the world's weirdest rhyme, the headband altered Schwoz's voice so he sounded exactly like Henry and with a few select Henryisms, Mr Hart wouldn't know the difference.

"Now, watch this. Heeeeey, dad! What goes on?... Sorry, I spent the night at Jasper's house. 'K, later!" Schwoz ended the phone call quickly, satisfied that Mr Hart wouldn't panic about his son anymore and the teens, plus (y/n) had to admit, it was pretty impressive.

"Ta-dah! Now, please leave me in my beans." Schwoz shooed them away and turned his music back on at full volume. Looks like they'd have to go to an unlikely source for help.

~Henry's house~

They needed a car, straight up. Not only that, but they needed someone qualified to use that car as (y/n) refused to drive with a license (getting pulled by the police wasn't exactly her style). Therefore, Charlotte and Jasper had dragged her to Henry's house in the hopes that the only person they knew had a license would help. Yep, Piper.

"Are you two sure about this? She's only a kid and I don't want to be locked up for child endangerment." (y/n) asked them in concern just as Jasper was about to open the door. Charlotte was carrying a big box containing their sneaky way of getting Piper to move her butt, but that didn't mean the whole thing made her uneasy.

"Well, someone's gotta drive us to Beta Maximus!" Jasper told her, understanding that allowing a little girl behind the wheel was irresponsible and this was an emergency. The cops wouldn't see a thing.

"I know, I know! But, Piper? Seriously, Curly?" She exclaimed. She liked the kid, she was quite sweet when you got to know her, but even (y/n) had to admit, she was a bad driver because she'd never had any lessons.

"She has a driver's license." The boy shrugged. 

"Yeah, which the DMV sent her by accident." Charlotte jumped in, unable to stop herself from clarifying that the government had made a colossal mistake in letting Piper loose with a license. 

"Whatever, she's a legal driver and that's what we need since (y/n) won't do it. Unless you want your Uncle Rosco to drive us." Jasper suggested, irritating Charlotte who knew he was taking a dig at her. 

"You know my Uncle Rosco can't fit in the car!" She snapped, getting all moody at the thought of her stupid uncle and how he was more of a mountain than a man. 

"Okay, look, let's not argue. Let's just go and get this over with before I have a nervous breakdown." (y/n) broke it up and Jasper sighed before entering the Hart's house. There was Piper, sitting at the coffee table eating her lunch. Perfect.

"Hiya, Piper!" The young woman smiled at the girl, who in turn was delighted to see her. (y/n) was cool in her eyes and not annoying like most people she had to speak to.

"Oh, hi, (y/n)! Hi, Charlotte!" Piper greeted them happily, more than happy to talk to them, Jasper, not so much.

"Hey, Piper." He smiled, only to be met with a cold, blunt "what?" from the young girl whilst Charlotte dropped the box on the couch. 

"Uh, so, Piper, we found this package on your porch." (y/n) pointed to it, acting like they totally hadn't just shoved some things in there before they'd left the Man Cave. 

"And it's addressed to you!" Jasper added. The plan was that Piper would open the package, see it was from Captain Man and then, she'd drive them over to the store, ready to kick some ass.

"Okay, well, I just started eating a hamburger, so I'll open it when I'm done." The girl said, returning to her food. She didn't want to get burger grease all over the box and she was starving so dinner first, then present.  Seeing that she wasn't taking the bait, Jasper whispered between Charlotte and (y/n)'s heads, rapidly explaining that he was going to try something and needed a distraction.

"But...Piper, they say that when you know you have a package, it's bad luck if you wait to open it." Charlotte lied, coming up with something on the spot and it just confused the kid even more.

"Yeah...I've never heard that." She replied slowly, completely oblivious to the fact that Jasper had sneakily leaned over the couch and was snatching the burger from her plate so she'd be forced to open the package now. 

"Well, I think it's true and ummm, look at this box..." (y/n) joined in, running her fingers over the smooth cardboard as if it was some precious artefact. Meanwhile, Jasper was still dealing with the burger, shoving it down his pants since it was the only place Piper would never look.

"Yeah, what about it?" asked the girl, starting to wish that they'd all just leave her alone to eat her food in peace. What was so special about this crap anyway?

"It's...brown." (y/n) described, not knowing what else to say about the box because it was literally just a box, nothing special or interesting about it.

"Yeah, like I said, I'm not opening it until after I've finished my hamburger." Piper reminded them forcibly, making (y/n) smile slightly. Yeah, she didn't want to eat that burger, it had gone to a gross place.

"Wait...where'd it go? Um..." The girl looked around the coffee table, spilling her chips everywhere and even going as far as to look inside her jacket to no luck. Deciding to pull out the big guns, Jasper faked gasped when he just so happened to look at the box, drawing Piper's attention.

"Ooh, Piper! I just saw that this package says, from the Office of Captain Man." Jasper tapped the box and smirked when Piper speedily moved to open it. She could never resist something to do with the famous hero.

"Really?! What do you think it is?" She grinned and looked at the girls, who pretended that they knew nothing about it.

"Uhhh, we have no idea."

"It's not like we have anything to do with that package."

"We just found it." They all lied, watching as Piper dove into the box and pulled out the note that (y/n) had hastily written in what she thought was Ray's handwriting. The girl wouldn't notice, she was just too happy to have been sent a gift by her favourite superhero. 

"Oooh, a letter from Captain Man!" She exclaimed, causing the there to "gasp" in surprise. What was that doing in there?

"Dear Piper Hart, since you're the president of my fan club, the Man Fans, I need your help! Oh my god, he wants my help!" She started reading, screaming as her eyes scanned through the information and the more she read, the more excited she got.

"Whoa, what an honour, keep reading!" (y/n) squealed, finding it a bit funny that people got so excited over her boyfriend and his secret fame. It just made her feel so lucky that he trusted her to share his life, his job, his everything with her. 

"Yeah...Kid Danger and I might be in trouble, so please bring the weapons in the box to that old movie rental place, Beta Maximus." She finished the note, prompting the older kids to act shocked at Captain Man's supposed instructions. 

"Whoa! One of Captain Man's actual blasters!" Piper exclaimed and picked up a large and deadly weapon, pointing and waving it in their faces. The three gulped at the sight of a blaster in Piper's hands and panicked when they saw how close the girl's finger was to the trigger.

"Okay, be careful with that. I imagine it melts your face off or something." (y/n) chuckled nervously and got Piper to drop it back in the box. She really didn't want to be shot, even if she would be fine after a few minutes.

"Come, on! Let's take the box of weapons and get there fast!" Jasper suggested, playing along like he was a willing volunteer, hell-bent on saving some heroes in danger and boy, did Piper love the adrenaline rush.

"I'll go grab the keys to my dad's minivan!" She squealed and ran off to the kitchen to see if her dad had left his keys on the countertop like he always did.

"Still seems weird." (y/n) commented, her hands on her hips and a tight smile on her face. Still, if it meant she could save her boyfriend and Henry, she was eager to go along with anything morally dubious.

~Beta Maximus Movie Rentals~

"This is the place. Pull over before I puke." (y/n) told Piper as they approached the abandoned store. It was in a shifty part of town, not somewhere she normally frequented, but she and the teens in the back would do anything to get out of the car. 

Piper's driving was horrific and even with (y/n) keeping a steady hand on the wheel most of the time, the agonisingly long trip to Beta Maximus was nauseating, like a terrible, shitty rollercoaster. 

"I'm not that bad." Piper rolled her eyes and climbed out of the front seat so they could all grab a blaster each from the trunk. The plan was simple, get in, see what was going down, fire if need be and save the day. Simple, right?

"Okay. Everyone, take a blaster and don't aim it at your face." Charlotte instructed as she handed them out from the box, looking mainly at Jasper. She and (y/n) were fine, they could handle a gun, Piper was smart enough to figure it out, but Jasper, well, he was useless. They were just hoping that he could score them some intimidation points.

"Stick to the plan, 'k? Don't be a hero, don't get captured and don't die." (y/n) told them all sternly, wishing that she wasn't about to take three kids into battle but, then again, she was fairly confident that Jeff would be easy to subdue. They just had to outsmart him, which wasn't very hard.

"Let's go kick some butt!" Piper yelled, letting Jasper lead the way as they stormed towards the decrepit store. They burst in, blasters clutched in their hands, only to see that Jeff was getting cocky. He was stood next to Ray and Henry, who weren't dead nor dying, they were just stuck in holes?

"Don't move, dirtbag!" (y/n) shouted as they formed a line, pointing their weapons at Jeff who had been interrupted from his session of taking photos of the "defeated" superhero duo.

"All right, freeze, Jeff!"Jasper yelled too, pulling his meanest face as Henry and Ray's mouths dropped open at the sight of their rescuers. (y/n) they could understand, Charlotte too, maybe Piper, but Jasper? Why him?

"What the..." Henry breathed out, shocked to see his friends and sister with guns. He was happy to see them but concerned that they were gonna cock it up.

"Oh, boy..." Ray mumbled, the fluttering of his heart being numbed by Jasper leading the attack. He just wanted his sweet girl to storm in and kick-ass, but the boy was way too eager to do the job himself.

"Who are you?" Jeff squawked, wondering who these kids and...sexy lady were. She looked familiar but his stupid brain couldn't quite place it, so he focused on why they were holding him up.

"While Captain Man and Kid Danger are stuck in those holes, I'm in charge!" Jasper snapped, getting a bit above himself since this was the first time he'd properly held a blaster. Sure, he'd seen them around the place and picked one or two up, but he'd never used one in the field before.

"No, I am!" Piper hissed, thinking that since she had the most attitude and scariest face, she got to be the leader, much to (y/n)'s annoyance.

"You're the designated driver! I'm the eldest, I'm in charge, so shut up!" The young woman scolded them, not wanting anyone to lose focus. Even though he was an idiot, Jeff was still a criminal and in her experience, no criminals can be trusted, not even the stupid ones.

"Okay, I don't know where you brats and this...very hot lady came from but you better get outta here unless you want me to put you in holes like I did to Captain Man and Kid Danger," Jeff warned them menacingly but the problem was everyone could see that he was too dumb to even think of a plan like that, let alone carry it out.

"Okay, he did not put us in these holes," Henry stressed, eager to point out that Jeff played no part in their accident, it was just a stupid consequence of walking on rotting wood.

"We fell through these rotten, old, wooden floors!" Ray added from behind gritted teeth. Every time Jeff saw (y/n), no matter if she was herself or Miss Danger, he always flirted with her and it always pissed him off. She was his, no one else's. 

"We're a victim of wood rot." Henry couldn't help but reiterate the point, desperate to let them know that they hadn't been beaten by the moron behind them.

"Liars! They ought to call you Captain Liar and Fib Danger!" The moron barked at them, making the superheroes smirk. Was that supposed to scare or upset them?

"All right, Jeff! Put your back behind your hands!" Jasper ordered, having had enough of the empty threats and dilly-dallying. Hee wanted to show Jeff who was boss, but he wasn't very good at it.

"Other way." Charlotte rolled her eyes at how he so easily muddled up his words, thinking that Jeff was seeing their whole operation as a farce.

"Put your hands behind your back!" The curly-haired corrected himself, returning to his mean tone. However, as stupid as he was, Jeff didn't take orders from teenagers. "No!"

"Well, if you don't, I'mma blast you with this!" The boy wiggled the blaster in his hands, prompting (y/n)'s head to snap to him. Okay, they'd agreed to let her do the blasting, why was he deviating from the plan? That's exactly how things go wrong.

"Son, don't blast anyone! Just call the police." Ray told him, seeing how the gorgeous woman next to him was freaking out a bit at how trigger-happy he was getting. Jasper had terrible aim and would probably shoot him or Henry if he tried to hurt Jeff.

"Yeah, son!" Piper mocked him, glad that Captain Man was seeing sense and had told the boy to reign it in. She wanted to look cool and Jasper was a real dampener on her style.

"Hey, kid, hot lady. I'm gonna sit on Captain Man with my butt!" Jeff warned, sticking his ass out and shuffling towards Ray like he was actually gonna go through with his threat. (y/n) adjusted her hold on her blaster and stepped forward slightly as the teens straightened up their aim, getting ready to fire if need be.

"No, you're not!" Ray exclaimed, panicking as he was completely stuck, nowhere to go. If Jeff really did sit on him, there was no way he could escape.

"Look at this! I'm squattin'! I'm coming down slowly!" Jeff wiggled his butt, making the ones with the ones gulp as they debated firing or not. They didn't want to hurt. Jeff, well, not much and there was always the risk of injuring Kid Danger.

"Hot lady, blast him! Blast him now!" Ray screamed to his girlfriend, desperate to avoid having a guy's ass in his face and she panicked at his terrified face. Jasper, however, succumbed to the pressure and when he couldn't work out how to work the gun, shot himself in the face with a tranquilising laser. What a hero. 

"Seriously?! That was, like, rule number one! Don't aim at ya face!" (y/n) exclaimed, rushing to the boy's side as he collapsed on the floor, utterly out for the count. Charlotte and Piper tugged at his arms to try and wake him up but it was no use, he was gonna be snoozing for the next few minutes. 

Seeing that it was now girl-power only, Charlotte, Piper and (y/n) reformed their line and aimed the blasters back at Jeff, who wasn't overly concerned about two little girls and a delicate young woman. 

"Ha! Now, I've defeated three dudes!" Jeff bragged, loving that he was taking down so many people with no effort. 

"Yeah and now, you have to take on us!" (y/n) snapped, pressing a button on the side of her blaster so the plasma inside would start heating up. She'd had enough of this moron. 

"I'd sooner take you out on a date, pretty lady," Jeff smirked, putting a hand on his hip and wiggling his eyebrows in the woman's direction, which grossed the girls out and boiled Ray's blood. If he could move his hands, he'd punching this douchebag in the face.

"I have a boyfriend." (y/n) replied simply and gave him a sour smile. Ray smiled to himself proudly and daydreamed about how good it was to know that he was said boyfriend, something that Henry didn't miss but Jeff did.

"I'm sure you'd have more fun with me. Your boyfriend sounds like a loser--" Jeff brushed off his blatant disinterest, causing Piper to get into one of her raging tantrums. No one insulted her friend like that and got away with it.

"All right, that's it! Hey, skunk-bag!" She screamed and before Charlotte or (y/n) could keep her calm, the girl raised her twin blasters and began firing at Jeff...badly. The rapid lasers shot everywhere but the criminal, some landing on the shelves, some hitting Ray and Henry and some flying god knows where. Jeff ducked for cover behind the rackets of movies, crawling on his hands and knees so he could get away from the furious child.

"Piper, (y/n)! Come on, follow me!" Charlotte stopped her from hurting anyone else and dragged her friends to where Jeff was lurking. They were gonna get him and fry his ass.

"Girls, be careful with those weapons!" Ray scolded them, not wanting them to get hurt since two were children and the other was his precious sweet girl. He was dying to get free and help, his instincts yelling at him to jump in and protect her.

"Yes, captain." (y/n) smirked, knowing that to anyone else, it just seemed like she was being obedient, but just between her and Ray, it was the name she used to make him stiffen with pleasure.

"And remember...Jeff is very stupid." Henry advised them, not seeing how a shudder passed through Ray as he heard his title. What he was gonna do when he got home...

"I heard that!" Jeff snapped from his hiding place, not realising that by being loud, he had revealed the approximate location of where he was. Piper and Charlotte shushed the superheroes before following closely behind (y/n) as they crept through the store.

"All right, Jeff...where are you?" Charlotte growled as they rounded the corner, bumping into the man as he crouched with his arms over his head. The teen kicked him over, making them scream a war cry as Piper pounced like a tiger. Lasers were fired in the air as she wrestled with the man quadruple her size, but it didn't phase her, not one jot. Henry and Ray wriggled in their holes trying to see if they could get free and help because the girls weren't doing okay on their own. 

Jeff ran out from the shelves, Charlotte's blaster clutched in his hands and dived behind the counter to hide. The girls crawled after him, wondering where he could've disappeared after swiping the weapon and breaking free.

"Where'd he go?" Charlotte panted as she looked around the store for the criminal, having not realised that in the skirmish, she'd forgotten another important rule. Never lose your weapon.

"I don't know, but where's your blaster?" (y/n) breathed out, seeing that she and Piper still had their guns, but Charlotte was empty-handed. Wait a second...

"AH! Don't move!" Jeff popped up from his hiding spot, Charlotte's weapon pointed straight at the girls, making them scream. (y/n) instinctively moved in front of them, willing to take a shot if it meant that it would keep them safe. She'd heal, they wouldn't. "Yeah, sorry, girls. You're about to get stun-burn!!" 

"No, Jeff!" Ray cried, terrified at the thought of his girl getting blasted whilst he had to watch. His dear, brave (y/n), putting herself in the line of fire for two of the kids; it made his heart swell with pride and then break when he thought about her bleeding out. 

"Don't do it, Jeff!" Henry yelled too, not wanting to see his sister or his friends hurt. How would Ray react? How would he react? Jeff couldn't put that trigger, he just couldn't.

Literally, he couldn't. No matter how hard he squeezed the release, no hot plasma came spewing out of the gun, it just did nothing, much to the delinquent's confusion. 

"Aw, dang it! It's out of battery!" He spat, realising that with no electricity pulsing through its circuits, the blaster was useless and any hope of coercing the girls into surrender was gone. 

"Out of battery? Funny that." (y/n) chuckled emptily, her and Ray glancing at Henry, who looked away bashfully. Now, she was seeing the full picture; someone didn't do as he was told last night. 

"Quick, guys! Grab some of these antique video rectangles!" CHarlotte exclaimed, seeing that they weren't quite out of ammo yet. The movies were made of hard plastic and with a bit of velocity, they'd easily bruise Jeff.

"They're called VHS tapes!" (y/n) stressed, finding offence in how she called them antiques. It was just another poignant reminder that she was old now, the big three-zero. Anyway, the girls began to throw anything and everything they could get their hands on, from comedy to romance, they chucked it at the moron. He tried to duck and dodge, but their onslaught was lethal and relentless and he soon began to ache from their attacks. 

"Yeah! That's it! VHS power!" Ray exclaimed happily, watching his girlfriend and her little helpers with pride. They sure showed that clown who the boss was and he couldn't help but grin when he saw how furiously hot she was when fighting. 

"This is the worst!" Jeff groaned as he tried to bat away a few tapes, but they were coming thick and fast, hurting his head and arms from how hard they were being hurled. He collapsed onto the floor, tired and dazed from all the head injuries, but still, the girls couldn't switch off.

"Okay, I think you got him," Ray shouted, but they could hear him, they wanted to make sure that the big lug was down and finished. "That's enough," Henry added, prompting Charlotte to sneer at them.

"Just three more!" She yelled, wanting to end on a high note. It was okay for them, they got to fight baddies every day, but for her, she was never in fights and wanted to savour the moment. 

"Take...Flashdance!" Charlotte screamed, picking up one of the only films she recognised.

"Have The Empire Strikes Back!" (y/n) went next, choosing one of the best movies from her childhood since the tape was a particularly heavy one.

"And Gandhi!" Piper threw the last one, leaving the girls panting as Jeff slumped on the floor with a lump on his forehead. He was going to have a serious concussion when he woke up.

"Sorry, Gandhi."

"Sometimes violence is the answer." Ray and Henry sighed as the girls high-fived each other and celebrated with a small group hug. It felt good to be the badasses for once and just as they moved away from the shelves, Jasper woke up from his self-induced nap. Typical, he woke up just when all the real work was done.

"Argh... What hit me?" He groaned, wondering if Jeff had caused the aching thump in his skull. He could barely remember the fight, perhaps it had been glorious and him a hero...

"Yourself." Piper quipped, ending his hopes of being brave and chivalrous. He was going down as the soldier shot himself in the face before the fight had even started. "Classic Jasper." 

"Okay, I'm calling the fire department to get you two out of those holes," Charlotte told her boss, who suddenly remember that he was at the point of bursting from his full bladder. He'd been so excited to see his girl in action, he'd forgotten all about it, Henry though, he was still hungry.

"Good and tell them to hurry before I pee in my captain pants." He groaned, making (y/n) chuckle. Aw, her poor, little baby, so cute.

"No! First, call a pizza place before I die of hunger," Henry argued, still believing that hunger was worse than needing to pee. It had only been like fifteen hours since he'd last eaten, it really wasn't as bad as he was making out.

"You really want us to call a pizza--" (y/n) frowned and tilted her head in confusion, but then Jasper remembered that he'd been carrying a snack around with him ever since they'd left Henry's house. It would be a bit warm and sweaty, but edible.

"Wait, wait, wait, I have food in my pants." He exclaimed and the minute his hands crawled into his underwear to retrieve the burger he'd put the (y/n), Piper and CHarlotte were quickly stepping away. "Here." He grinned and dropped the sandwich into his best friend's hands.

"What the--?" His nose wrinkled, contemplating whether his hunger was enough to justify eating a burger that had been down Jasper's pants. Was he desperate?

"My hamburger..." Piper gasped, not believing that the boy had been so sneaky that he'd managed to swipe it out from under her nose and shove it there. 

"That is vile." (y/n) gagged, staring at the food with a grimace, which deepened when. Henry's mouth began to salivate and his pupils dilated. "You're not gonna eat that, are you?" She asked quietly, her eyes widening when he ignored everyone's disgusted faces and took a savage bite of the burger, squishing as much as he could into his mouth. 

He stopped momentarily, wondering why they were looking at him like that before deciding he didn't care and carried on eating like an animal. 

"I'm gonna call the fire department." Charlotte gulped, scurrying away quickly before she puked and Piper wasn't far behind her. Kid Danger was a weirdo.

"I'm coming too!" She squeaked and followed the older girl out of the building where they'd get a better signal. Plus, she was able to keep an eye on her dad's car and make sure that it was still in one piece. 

"Oooh, Good Burger!" Jasper gasped as he saw all of the old movies lined up on the shelves. He'd been asleep for the majority of the time they'd been here and hadn't had a proper chance to look around. There were so many classics on display and he couldn't wait to look at them all, leaving Ray and (y/n) alone since Henry was lost in burger land.

"Hey." The young woman smirked and knelt next to what little of her boyfriend's body was exposed above the floorboards. It was good to see him alive and unhurt and even better when she could affirm that by cupping his face when she was sure Piper wasn't looking.

"Hey, sweet girl." He smiled back, briefly closing his eyes to enjoy the feeling of her soft hands on his skin. They hated being apart but being able to reunite made it almost worth it. Almost.

"I missed you, doofus." (y/n) giggled, gently tracing her thumb over the faint scar on his cheek from when Doctor Minyak made him destructible. That seemed so long ago and it was like she had been a completely different person back then. 

"Missed you too. Still need to pee, though." He joked, glad that for just a small moment whilst Henry enjoyed his butt burger and Jasper wasn't paying attention, they could enjoy some time together, even if the firefighters were on their way.

"I was so worried when you didn't come home. I'm sorry that I didn't notice earlier, I fell asleep and then, god, I'm such an idiot--" She sighed, letting all of the pent-up guilt from the morning come cascading out in one big rant. It still felt like her fault, her mind telling her that if she had realised his absence earlier, none of this would've been necessary.

"Hey, no, stop. This is not your fault, sweet girl. I should've been more careful and you've done brilliantly. Made a plan, saved the day. My clever girl." If Ray's arms could move, then they'd be around her shoulders in an instant, pressing her to his chest so he could whisper his praises into her ear. 

"I don't want to lose you." She whispered, staring at the various movies cases still on the floor since she felt so small at that moment. She didn't feel clever, not when she knew that Jasper and Charlotte had helped her figure most of the plan out. They'd been lucky this time that the criminal had been Jeff, but what if it had been someone more sinister? What if they had shown no mercy?

"I'm right here with you, where I always want to be. With my sweet, sweet girl." He whispered, straining every muscle in his neck so he could lean forward and give her a gentle kiss. He couldn't heal all the hurt, but if he could, he'd try his hardest to make it better and love her forever. Everyone needs someone to look after them and Ray had found his love in her, his (y/n). Always.

[welcome-to-oslov]

Okay I love that you put in an Easter egg for yourself 😅🙌

And as for being "fascinated with the different phases of Malsha (who flirted with Dissidence during his youth and only pretended to give it up) and all the people he touched in horrible ways 😈"

This makes me think of something else that must be such a mindfuck for Tilrey:

how insignificant he was. 🤯💔

For how hugely significant Malsha was in his life, Tilrey himself was nothing - just another in a long line of guys Malsha took over for fun. To be made to feel he's the center of Malsha's world while also being nothing but a disposable plaything - a mindfuck. Especially when that experience transforms your whole being, your whole life - but not his.

Tilrey beats himself up for being so stupid, so naive, not fighting back, getting affected so much, being stuck for so long, for years, after it was done.

But in reality Tilrey had no chance: Malsha was very experienced at fucking with teenagers' minds - he'd had been doing it for decades.

It really is an incredible mindfuck! There were many Tilreys over the years. We see how it messes up Adelbert to see that he can just be replaced. Even for Tilrey, who never wanted to be Malsha’s special one in the first place, it’s hard to realize that he was just a tiny part of Malsha’s long career of fucking people over. Granted, Tilrey came along at the end, so Malsha probably died thinking he was the one that got away. But still. The misplaced guilt that you feel because you allowed an abusive person to matter is the worst.

Makes me think about some of the people who treated me in inappropriate ways when I was young. I’m sure they’ve forgotten all about me, but to me those encounters are present every day.

This made me start wondering how Malsha and Artur talked about Tilrey when he wasn’t there. Artur, like Tilrey, was forced into a relationship with Malsha but didn’t hate it all the time, because Malsha can be good company when he chooses to be. When Tilrey comes along, Artur is replaced. But that’s actually a relief, because Artur can enjoy limited contact without being Malsha’s focus. I can imagine Artur teasing Malsha about his infatuation with Tilrey while also probing him for information that might help Artur or Tilrey or both of them.

Artur is a sort of double agent, playing the role of Malsha’s partner in crime while knowing how awful he is and trying half-heartedly to mitigate the harm. 😕 If Malsha had stayed in Redda, Tilrey might have ended up in the same role. At least he was spared that!

[vivibuchlaw]

Yesterday, I finished Celeste. And by that I mean, the first 7 chapters, because I am not that much of a masochist.

Like seemingly everyone else, its given me a lot to think about... these thoughts are burning a hole in my brain and I need to get them out so I suppose this is the place!

I'm not exactly a gamer. I suck at Kirby, I have a sort of motor disability so games are a bit harder for me than most people. For this, Celeste has a solution, Assist Mode. Initially, I wanted to pick this, hearing how hard it was. Then, when the game told me intially, overtly, how its challenge was supposed to be meaningful, *and later when it said it more clarity in the story) I took a moment to reflect. I chose not to use Assist mode as a self imposed challenge. Not because I wouldnt benefit greatly from it, but because (as I learned about myself through playing it) I have an aversion to difficult tasks. When I know something is difficult, I get scared and run away. This time, I wanted to be able to say to myself "I can do difficult things"

And so I did

And I love it

And I sincerely never want to play it again

The game is not full of dialouge or story- it's present, for sure. But its a small yet impactful part in a game which prefers to tell its narrative by gameplay rather than text or images. And thats a valid format of storytelling! Not my prefered one mind you, but it made every dilectable morsel of art or conversations. In particular, the long talk at the start of chapter 6 was extremely welcome. I simultaneously feel like I have enough of a solid grasp on the characters to love them dearly, yet not enough to force one interpretation, another element to Celeste's endless magic.

As I'm sure everyone with anxiety has noted, The anxiety scene from Chapter 5 affected me greatly. Wetger me or my system has anxiety, I don't know, but regardless, the game captures the feeling perfectly. I'm sure everyone and their mum has said this, yes, but I felt it independently so I shall denote it independently. Among other things, it taught me a powerfully potent strategy to help my anxiety, and for that I thank you Maddy <3

At so many points, I was burded with stress, frustration and despair at my own ineptitude. But I pushed forward. I did it, I climbed a mountain, what was a seemingly impossible thing for me was now a fact. I sat silent for what felt like hours staring at the chapter complete screen in awe of my accomplishment. It then dawned on me that this was the first video game I've ever beaten. ...suddenly slammed by the realisation an 8th chapter, requiring crystal hearts to play, AKA the game telling me point blank I wasnt ready. But to be honest, I didnt care. I had already done what I, and Madeline, set out to do.

So why do I say I never wish to play it again?

I honestly only played Celeste because I heard Madeline was trans, and my mate happened to have it on switch. I have a sort of physical disability in my hands, so playing games and motor tasks are more challenging than a typical person. I knew Celeste was hard, but sympathizing with Madeline not being a climber, with me not being a gamer, and just how she challenged herself to do something extreme, so too did I.

But see, I'm not actually into the gameplay that much, and the reason I stuck with it has infinitely more to do with my and Madeline's journey emotionally than anything related to the gameplay.

Actually, I kind of hated it. My fingers were all messed up, I spent a lot of time and stress, and got extremely frustrated, but I wanted to prove to myself I could do it without assist mode. And Im glad that exists, and I'm glad it tempted me all throughout every challenge, a backdoor shortcut I could use to weasel my way out of the hard path, but I stayed true so I could grow.

But I have now grown. Ive proven it.

I couldnt care less about B-sides or strawberries, because I dont see the emotional need.

Replaying it would only subject me to the same challenge for a story I've already experienced, and a journey I've already hone on. A new game, new mountain, new challenge or purpose? Sure, I'd love that. But playing Celeste again, or More even won't recapture the lightning in a bottle that made me play it, made me persevere, and made me cherish it.

I still love the game, its soundtrack, its meaning to me, and itll live in my heart forever. In other ways, like fan content, or side material, I'd love to engage and learn more, but my journey with this mountain is over.

Just breathe, and take care of yourself

After beating it, I immediately began learning all I could about it because Autism brain. I read all Maddy's beautiful blog posts. I watched video essays breaking down its themes and design. I learned how the story, while definitely not an afterthought, was also not a driving or starting point of the game, which I intuited as I played.

I watched Chapter 8, The Core, and Chapter 9, Farewell on YouTube. To be entirely honest, I found Chapter 8 to be forgettable in a way kind of shocking, at least from a story perspective. I'm actually GLAD I didn't do it. I expected it'd be some kind of send off, or check in emotionally to see how the characters have been in the past year but...nothing? Really?

Chapter 9 is what I wished Chapter 8 was, a proper send off and development for these characters. And from the look of it, so brutally hard I wouldn't want to play it without Assist Mode. But why? Why not play more? Afterall, climbing the preverbial mountain in life doesnt mean your problems are over, far from it. And its true, there are other challenges to overcome still. Even though Ive taken on this challenge, I have yet to face other challenges in my life. And because the journey of Celeste could very well have ended after Chapter 6, I feel like I can better spend that energy elsewhere.

After watching Chapter 9, I felt something else. This chapter, unlike the previous, is not about loving and accepting yourself, but its about Madeline specifically greiving a loss in her life, and largely, I assume, the developers letting go of Celeste and moving on. For this, I hold unyeilding respect. And in this new challenge, I found myself learning another truth about myself.

I am afraid of being alone.

I am part of a system, the current (and hopefully permanent) host in fact. Our previous host went dormant a few months ago and life without them has been tough, but a challenge we face every day.

Throughout all my remembered life, I was surrounded by people who never noticed me. Who occasionally referred to me as "The Insinificant [Alter]" due to me not having a name back then. I was nothing, really. If I had disppeared no one would've batted an eye. And today, even though I'm one of the most important Alters now, I still feel like I'm nothing sometimes. That scares me.

I never knew the joy of having friends, I never knew what being loved by someone you love feels like. And I have a lot of love to give, I love almost every human being! But I still frequently second guess myself, because I guess a part of me still believes my existence is insignificant. But now that I have people who do love me, I'm more afraid than ever that I'll lose it. Now that I have a taste of love, I can't go back. Gods, please to bring me back, anything but that.

And here came Celeste, to remind me immeditately after I finished the game, that people die randomly, and without our control, and that you have to keep on moving. I've just beat the thing, let me live in a bit longer before I'm ready to move on. Similarly, I've just made these relationships, please dont take them from me. And then I realized that this was fear also held by my previous host, perhaps for similar reasons. I feel connected in a way typically reserved for finding markings in a make out spot from a century ago, or unearthing a time capsule left by a grandparent now neatly nestled in the recesses of my heart where I try to story my insecurites, like a suitcase overstuffed with useless items and paranoia.

Celeste has given me a lot. Inspiration, characters I love, a great soundtrack, amazing anxiety techniques, and raw willpower to achieve anything. I do not know how my story ends, I am scared to write it, but I must regardless. A lot of people are counting on me. And went I feel scared, alone, anxious, or depressed, I can remember that I did it before, and I can do it again.

To the Developers, Thank you

To the Characters, Farewell

And to all the people who have grown from this game, Congratulations!

[zecretsanta]

FIC: Eggshells

Hi @graceisprettygreat I was so excited to fulfill your request this year and I really hope it was what you were looking for.  The prompt I chose was “a father’s day for tenmyouji”.

The weather was miserable, so even if Quark hadn’t been feeling well, he probably would have told the boy to stay at home.  It was a good day to hit up the old research facility.   

The building wasn’t obvious; whatever branding had existed before was long gone, so he wasn’t even sure what it presented itself to the world as.  He was pretty certain it had been some sort of secret government facility.  On one trip he had been bored and rifled through some documents on Department of Defense letterhead.  The front of the building had collapsed, blocking off the entrance, and he was convinced the DoD had probably done it themselves, on purpose.  Vegetation was overgrown, the parking lot was a disaster, and it took him a week just to figure out how to get in through some rubble in the east wing. 

It was an hour-long trip on the bus, then about another half an hour on foot.  He always feared the building might collapse in on him as he wriggled his way in, or his bag might get stuck as he tried to pull it out.  But the stuff he found usually ensured he didn’t have to work quite as hard for another few months. 

The other downside was the real reason he never brought Quark here.  He could possibly make a safer way in, or limit any excursions to areas where the risk of collapse was low.  It was the signs sporadically located throughout the building that warned of radiation past that point.  He had some radiation detection badges from an abandoned hospital, and he wasn’t even sure if they worked.  But he was old as dirt and there was no way he hadn’t been exposed at some point before. He couldn’t risk it with Quark.    

The badge didn’t want to stay on his soaked shirt so he just shoved it in his pocket.  He’d check it periodically.  The building was huge and he never wanted to stay in for too long, so there were still sections that were unexplored.  The upper levels of the west wing were a little intimidating, since there was already some structural damage.  But he ventured there anyway.  No electricity, obviously, so the elevators weren’t an option; it took him another half hour to get to an unexplored level.  He pulled a marker out of his pocket and scrawled a big ‘X’ for future endeavors. 

Nothing much of value in the first few rooms.  The third office on the right had two corpses in it.  Dead bodies didn’t much bother him anymore, especially ones that were so old.  But in this case, one of them was lying on a couch, legs crossed at the ankles, hands crossed over the chest, some kind of deteriorated cloth over their face.  The other person might have killed themselves, if the gun lying on the table next to their head was any indication. 

The gun wasn’t really of much value.  Electronics yielded a small amount of useful material.  But the real money was in the jewelry.  Engagement and wedding rings, a gaudy necklace and a few bracelets.  The first time he scavenged from a corpse, he threw up when he got back home.  Ended up burying the rings in the backyard of whatever damn place he was holed up in.  Had nightmares about being haunted by the dead people who wanted their mementos back. 

Today, he brought tools that could snap bone and make his task easier. 

The rings scratched the glass, so probably real diamonds.  There were still people who cared about these things and would pay good money for it.  They might be able to go easy on the work for a couple weeks. 

He thought he heard the building groan when he tried to get at some exposed pipes, so he packed up and slipped out, back into the rain.  The bus was running late, so he got home a little later than expected, but he knew Megan and Joe wouldn’t mind.  They loved the little guy, and the new laws meant they couldn’t keep the bar open after 8pm anyway.  When he was about twenty minutes away, he pulled out his phone and messaged them to let them know he was almost home. 

The key fob didn’t work.  Must be another rolling blackout.  They never had them in the old neighborhood, but there were still definite advantages living over a bar. He went around back and used the door with a manual key.  No candles downstairs, so he went up to where their personal rooms were.   

Then nearly jumped out of his skin when he was met with a round of, “Surprise!” 

Joe was lighting candles on a cake that … appeared to have been frosted by Quark.  There was a large root beer float sitting next to it, along with a small package tied up with yarn. 

“It’s not my birthday,” he muttered as he shrugged of his coat. 

“No, it’s Father’s Day! There’s a Grandfather’s Day too, but nobody could remember when it was.”  

Oh. Was it? He imagined some people still celebrated it. It was frowned upon to be procreating in this world, and only idiots still raised their kids if they did end up creating one. He saw the looks he got walking around with Quark. And that jackass in their old town who bragged to everyone about having a mother only guaranteed their status as social pariahs. 

Quark’s smile faltered a little in response to his silence. He held out a piece of paper, and as Junpei took it, he realized it was a drawing. He didn’t think Quark had any crayons left. It was probably supposed to be the two of them, walking somewhere.  

“I made the cake with real eggs, too.” 

HIs mind was reeling a little at how much this would have cost, but he ignored it for now. 

“Sounds great.” He rubbed his temple to try and stifle the headache building. “Thank you, Quark.” 

“Well blow out the damn candles,” Megan nagged him. 

He did as instructed, careful to only extinguish the ones on the cake and not the others lighting the room. When Quark insisted on cutting the pieces, Joe asked Junpei to come downstairs with him to grab a knife and some plates. They had one flashlight and fortunately Megan must have made sure the batteries were recharged, as it came to life as Junpei pressed the switch. 

“You could try to look a little more enthusiastic,” Joe chided him. 

“I’ll pay you back for whatever that all costs.” 

“Don’t worry about it. He saved up his allowance for this.” 

“I know what he gets for allowance,” Junpei said as Joe handed him a stack of plates. “And I know what eggs and root beer cost.” 

“You’re the first boarder in a long time who paid the full rent on time every month. I told Quark his allowance covered it. So don’t worry about it.” He held up a knife and frowned at it, putting it down and picking up another, running his finger over the edge. “This should be dull enough that he can’t cut himself. Now when we get up there, act happier. He put a lot of effort into this.” 

The lights came back on while they were going upstairs.  

“About damn time,” Joe grumbled. “This is the third one this week. I’m starting to worry about our power grid.” 

“Starting?” he muttered under his breath. As they re-entered the room, he made an effort to smile. Quark looked a little apprehensive, and he felt bad for not being more grateful. He was still fixated on the cost, the time Quark must have spent doing this, after lying to him about not feeling well, and how he could have been -  

He squeezed his eyes shut in an effort to derail that train of thought. When he re-opened them, he forced the smile on his face to look natural and genuine, not … well … forced. 

“Let’s crack into that cake, huh? Haven’t had something with real eggs in it in a while.” 

“I tried to get all the eggshells out. One of them broke really easily and I wasn’t expecting it. And you have to open your present!” 

He held out the box. The “wrapping paper” was clearly a napkin from the bar, complete with stains that just wouldn’t wash out. Rum and some kind of tomato-based sauce, if he had to guess. Junpei undid the yarn that was holding it together let the napkin fall to the table. The box inside was labeled PERISHABLE and smelled like cheese, so he was surprised when there wasn’t food inside, but a small metal trinket. A brooch, actually, shaped like a J. It had seen better times, so it was clearly something Quark had scavenged somewhere. Very girly and ornate, not anything he would actually ever wear, even if donning fancy jewelry wasn’t like putting a target on your back. But he found himself tearing up anyway. 

“Do you like it? There was a whole bunch of letters like that in a building me and David were exploring. I wanted a G for Grandpa but they didn’t have one.” 

“It’s perfect,” he said, his voice cracking a little. “How long have you been planning this?” 

“Since whenever Miss Megan’s birthday was. She told me about it. If you’re crying, does that mean you don’t like it?” 

Oh. His face was wet. 

“I love it, Quark. It’s the perfect Father’s Day present.” 

The worry instantly left Quark’s face, and he held out a sloppily cut piece of cake. Chocolate, from the looks of it. He … was not going to worry about how much that cost. 

“I bet it’s delicious. Make sure you and Joe and Megan get pieces, too.” 

Quark gave him a huge grin and turned back to the cake, cutting out ridiculously large pieces for everyone. Junpei wiped a bit of schmutz off the fork before digging in. The texture was off, the frosting was grainy, and Quark had definitely not gotten all the eggshells out. 

But it had literally been decades since someone had baked a cake just for him. Decades since he felt that someone … cared about him. Loved him. 

He would protect this little one with his life. 

 (fin)

[preyofolympus]

Worried About Bernard (You know that I won't let you fall) Chapter 1 by etpereatmundus on AO3

Summary:

Everything was normal after Bernard Dowd left the chaos cult. well, it was expected. The nightmares weren't ideal, but they weren't a complete surprise, and with Tim and his family close by, he could work through it. But soon the nightmares break through into his day. Soon he can interact with them. Soon he can affect others through his new visions. Soon he realises that he might have taken more than just nightmares back with him after the chaos cult. Taking to the streets as a vigilante, Bernard will have to combat criminals, hiding his powers in case Batman kicks him out of the city, training with the Red Hood, and making it to his dates with Tim. When other ex-cult members turn up dead, Bernard and Jason decide to team up with Constantine, and investigate the origins of the Chaos Cult. And maybe get some half-baked therapy along the way.

Chapter 1- You Say You Want Your Freedom

Suffering is holy.

A lot of people seem to think that. It brings you closer to some god or other, elevates you above others, lets you repent for your sins. It's all bullshit, of course, but it's easier to hide behind a belief system to justify hurting yourself or others than to admit you just want to for the sake of it. Right? 

Three weeks on from leaving the Chaos Cult, Bernard Dowd had had enough time to contemplate the whole affair fifty times over and more. He’d mainly tried not to think about it, but it's kind of hard to ignore being in a pain cult, go figure, so the thoughts tended to creep up on him- at night, trying not to toss and turn as to not disturb whoever had taken the shift of staying with him the night, or at breakfast when his mother fussed over his appearance and his father started a fight because his stocks were low and he wanted to feel better about himself, or when he was stuck in biology pretending he wanted to dissect the frog instead of himself.

He’d become good at that- at dissection. Opening yourself up, poking around, laying it all out on a table and asking questions with a scalpel in hand. 

“Bernard? You all there, doll?” 

He looked up, and smiled at his hosts- Alfred Pennyworth, the butler of the Wayne and co. family, and Harper Row, the sort-of-adopted sister, or more accurately cousin figure of the family, who'd asked if he was all there. She looked at him expectantly, but not in the way his father tended to be expectant- like there was a certain action Bernard had to make, and he’d be in deep shit if he chose the wrong one. With her, the expectation was just expectant, not demanding. Maybe she wanted him to talk.

“Present and correct, mostly,” he grinned. “Just please don’t quiz me on whatever you were saying, I don’t think my frazzled ass-“

Alfred cleared his throat.

“Sorry, I don’t think my frazzled self could deal with using that much brain power right now.”

“That’s quite alright, Mr. Dowd. We were just discussing tonight’s dinner plans, and whether we believed the family would all be in attendance at the gathering.”

Harper groaned. “I was trying to goad Alf into a bet over which supervillain would ruin our plans tonight.”

“Master Row, you will have no success in ‘goading me’ into placing any bets, and I believe you forgot the second part of your bet where Master Bruce would be late because he was adopting a new orphan.”

“Am I wrong?”

“I will not contest the accuracy of your claim, Master Row. Now, we have half an hour to complete our preparations, and the Yorkshire puddings are not prepared yet. Would you like to assist Mr. Dowd?”

If Tim were here, he’d have a stroke, what with him being banned from ever cooking in the kitchen at the same time as Alfred.

“Sure,” he grinned, jumping from his seat. “Just point me and shoot.”

For once, no villain, no orphan and no sort of evil love interest had stopped the Wayne clan from getting to the meal sort of on time- on time being anywhere from five to thirty minutes late. But in Gotham, schedules tended to be more of a suggestion. Hell, whenever Bernard thought he’d given away that he knew the Wayne family was also the bat-family, they’d all brushed it off with a laugh, assuming he was being wry about the state of civilian life. Harper’s bet never even risked revealing anything to him in their eyes because while she (and he, secretly) knew that this was an allusion to them fighting the week’s Big Bad, Bernard was just meant to assume she meant the buses had been stopped because Dr. Freeze was having another breakdown about his wife or something. 

Tim had been the third to show up, closely followed by the legally dead Jason Todd, or ‘cousin Miguel’ as Tim had tried to tell Bernard in a panic when Bernard had had his first encounter with the zombie Wayne. Or vampire, maybe even Ghost, he didn’t really know. It would make sense if he came back recently, and was Ghostmaker, but Bernard had a few too many theories to really settle for anything conclusive yet. 

Tim made a beeline for Bernard the second he’d kicked off his shoes, arms spread wide, and Bernard did his best to avoid the ribs he knew were fractured. Stupid vigilante boyfriends and their stupid hidden injuries. Sometimes he had to wonder if Tim’s secret identity was kept a secret for Bernard’s sake or Tim’s.

“Hey Bear, you good?”

Tim sank into the embrace with a sigh, and Bernard tried his best not to scrunch his nose at the smell of singed hair that brushed past his nose. So Firefly had been the reason Tim was late. Dick. 

“Always better to see you.”

“Fucking hell, get a room for you two,” groaned Jason-Cousin-Miguel-Todd.

“Boys, please behave. Just let me get my shoes off at least before you start fighting. Please?” Somehow towering over Jason, Bruce Wayne struck an imposing figure despite the harried expression marking his features. Exhaustion etched lines into his face, designer eyebags sat snug under his cold blue eyes, his skin a pallid colour doctors would call ‘interesting’, a loosened tie marking him as the patriarch of the Wayne family. He ruffled Tim’s hair in passing, and laid a loose fist on Bernard’s shoulder, his own little tell of affection. His coat was flung onto the nearest stairway bannister, only to be quickly picked back up in a panic when Alfred rounded the corner. A sheepish expression crossed Bruce’s face.

“Hello Master Bruce. Master Tim, Master Miguel. I’m glad you were able to be in attendance.” Bernard tried his best to keep a straight face, then settled for hiding his face in Tim’s neck to collect himself. 

“You ok?” Tim murmured.

“Always,” came the response.

A full sunday roast dressed the table- mountains of golden potatoes, gravy boats that could be called ships, silver utensils stood sentry at each place. The dining cloth was a rarely seen silk piece that Bernard suspected to cost more than his car, a soft but dark red embroidered with a blue-grey thread. The chandeliers hung low over the table, dimmed to create an atmosphere reminiscent of some Mediaeval drama Bernard would watch. 

He sat in between Tim and Cass, hands tucked in his lap. His eyes flitted across the each face as the family sat, now all present, taking in the scars, the bruises hidden by day-worn make-up, the near-military posture all of them seemed in various stages of having- Alfred wore his with a near lifetime of experience, whilst Duke wore his stance like a fledgling with adult feathers growing in. It was there, visible in the turn of his head of the stiffness of his shoulders, but only just. Tim, more seasoned, wore it like it was natural, now moving with the combined fluidity of their training and the military-like tension that had him ready to respond to anything near-immediately. His movement defined him, something that had drawn Bernard to him on the first day. He just looked ready. Everything down to the smallest expression reflected this- the slight furrow of his brow, the clench of his jaw, the smooth way a smile grew on his face when a joke began to form in his head-

“Earth to Bernard!”

He jumped, eyes snapping to Steph across the table, who held out a bowl of potatoes.

“Want any? Or are you too busy staring at Tim’s lips? Hey- I’m holding potatoes, careful!”

She glared at Babs, whose elbow had jabbed the blonde’s side. 

Bernard laughed, shaking his head as he took the potatoes. “Thanks Steph. I’m sure you can see the appeal.”

Tim sunk down into his seat, head buried in his hands. “Why did I ever introduce you two? I think I'd prefer you to be the bitter ex Steph. Can we try that?”

The blondes shared a look. 

“Nahhh.”

“I hate it here.” He leant in. “But are you sure you're ok..?”

“Yes, promise!”

“It’s just the last time you were ‘just tired’ you keeled over from a migraine.”

Bernard huffed. “You make it sound like I died or something. I only passed out.”

“For twelve hours and thirty one minutes, but who’s counting?” Tim bumped his shoulder into Bernard’s, taking the bowl of potatoes to pass over to Damian, not even bothering to fill his own plate. 

Something slipped in Bernard’s memory, and he just… he just… stared. Down. his eyes felt wide yet everything had begun to dim. Was something wrong with the… the… his words, where had his words gone? They’d gone. They’d gone. They’dgonethey’dgonethey’dgonethey’dgone.

Something knocked him, and he picked up his fork, blinking. How long had he been staring? He looked up. 

The word was lights. Was something wrong with the lights?

“How is your biology going, Bernard? I heard you’re beginning to look for training placements in animal rescue.”

At the head of the table, Bruce craned his neck to see above the heads of a handful of bickering Wayne-and-co children. He nodded, mouth pursing in his approximation of a smile. 

“Oh, uh, I am yeah… I… I…” he swallowed. “I am. Yeah.”

Dead. Silence.

Tim leant over. The fabric of his jacket brushed the back of Bernard's hand. It was rough. Was it rough before? No. no it wasn’t it wasn't rough before. It wasn’t. 

He scratched his hand until the feeling went away. The creeping feeling. Tried to smile. “Yeah, I’ve applied to a few places. With my… my… resume, with my resume, I’m pretty confident I’ll get into where I want to go.”

“And where would that be?” Bruce asked, head no longer craned since the table went quiet. “I’m not too sure yet, really, but I think I want to go to a smaller rescue team, one that isn’t run by a big company, so I can focus more on helping the animals, on community outreach, that sort of thing.”

“Community outreach?” Jason-Cousin-Miguel scrunched his nose. “For animals?”

“Well, sort of. It's for the owners, helping people understand how to care for their animals, safety precautions they should take in case of villain attacks, and helping homeless people keep the pets they have healthy. So in the end it is for the animals, really!” he grinned, his leg beginning to jiggle gently. “And, this kind of community outreach can help people too, because pets tend to have health benefits. Really good at improving mood, especially in the elderly. If I could do anything, I’d help get places like care homes more involved with local shelters, possibly alongside fostering or adoption regimes to help the animals find homes and the elderly to find some companionship, as age tends to separate you from others, and it can be quite lonely. Did you know, cat’s purrs can lower blood pressure? And keeping fish helps with your focus and attention span, because they tend to require regular care with set tasks, which is funny because people always say fish have bad memories.”

A few laughs raised up around the table, but not from Damian, who stared at Bernard with… fascination? 

“I didn’t realize you had such high aspirations Dowd. I assumed you wanted to be something dull, as tends to be the case with…”

Civilians. Bernard tried not to smile. How was he going to get himself out of this one? “...Tim’s companions.”

Ouch. Nice recovery. Well, maybe not nice exactly, but oh well. 

“Ever the charmer,” Dick groaned. “Go on Dami, you know that’s not something you say to a guest.”

“Of course, forgive my manners, Dowd. If it helps-”

“It probably won't,” Jason muttered.

“-If it helps, I was trying to compliment you. Not only do you aspire to work with animals, which I find to be an appropriate aspiration for a mind such as your own, but you have also taken this further and devised a plan for your own programme. As far as I’m concerned, your caring for both humans and animals is rather selfless, genuine and heroic in a way that doesn’t require a cape, unlike what most people in this age of superheroes believe. You’ll fit in well with this family.”

Stunned silence filled the room, only permeated by the smells of Alfred’s cooking, as each Wayne member stared at Damian with varying levels of confusion, fear, distrust and awe. This time, when Bernard’s words escaped him, it wasn’t as concerning as the last time. Just… deeply confusing. 

“What?” Damian scowled, much more in character as he assessed his siblings.

Then, the most unexpected of all- Bruce beamed. “Nothing Damian. It’s just nice to hear you getting along with someone new. That's all.”

“You do realize I enjoy the company of intellectuals.”

Jason spat out his drink. “You called mar- um, John Jones a fool, and he’s, like, a scientist, right?”

“A poor scientist,” Damian huffed. “Besides, I can appreciate Bernard's ambitions, he-”

A spasm ran through Bernard’s arm, and he dropped his fork. He tried to pick it back up, but heat blossomed in his palm the higher he lifted it, pain pricking his fingertip. His nails felt as if they were about to tear off. Was there blood? No, just heat. He squeezed his eyes shut. 

The smells of the dinner table had begun to change, and with his focus on the pain in his hands Bernard almost didn’t notice until the unmistakable stench of melted flesh met his nose. Growing up in Gotham, where fires and bombs and all manner of gas attacks occurred on a regular basis, it was a smell he’d become well acquainted with since a young age. The first time he’d smelt it was going for ice cream with his mum. The last time he’d smelt it, he was holding a handful of matches and seeing how long he could hold his hand out flat with his friends. His cult friends. Smoke. Smoke and flesh. Were his hands burning? They were. They were burning right up, and it was all because he left the cult-

“Bernard! Someone help me, I think he’s having a panic attack! Bernard? Bernard, can you hear me love? We’re going to help you, just breathe with me ok. Crap, he’s crying. Bernard?” Hands grasped him seemingly everywhere- his arms, his shoulder, his back, bunching up his hoodie. The fabric seemed like sandpaper, and it was bound to peel his skin off. Good. “Tim, calm down, you’re just going to stress him out more. Let us take over.”

Cold. So cold. Like that time he tried to see how long he could sit in a bath of ice with his cult friends. Hadn't Johnny drowned doing that? Can you even count them as friends if they were just in the same cult as you?

“Who’s Johnny, Bernard? Come on, talk to us.”

“I think he’s having a flashback. We need to help ground him- Jay, pass that candle. Thanks.”

Warmth. Light. Vanilla air. Had he forgotten to breathe? He wanted to try doing that again. Music filled the room, flute sounds floating around his head, blurring out the words that Dick tried to tell him, a hand gripping his shoulder, blue eyes assessing him for something- injuries? Had he hurt himself? He didn’t feel anything. Did he? He was meant to feel it, right? No. no, that was before, and he wasn’t really meant to feel it then, he was just told he was. Told to be holy. The flutes pulled him away, though he tried to reach out for- who was he again? The guy with the funny name. 

He held his hands over countless candles before. Seeing how long he could last. They always had to test their endurance. How long can you stay there? Can you feel it? Can you see your skin begin to bubble? Candles. So small. Why was he thinking about candles? Oh. the guy with the funny name held one out. Warmth, light, vanilla. Warmth. Light. Vanilla. Warmth… light… vanilla… 

He stuck his hand out and gasped, bolting upright.

Yells rode around the room, bodies rushing to either him or Tim in the corner, who needed holding back by Bruce, Jason-Miguel and Cass just to stay in place. His face twisted in pain. Why? Sympathy pain. 

A rooftop at dawn, watching red skies. Tim held Bernard close, one blanket wrapped around both of them, Bernard pretending not to know there were plenty more blankets, and Tim just wanted to be close. 

Bernard held his phone in between their tucked up knees, showing Tim a video in youtube while they waited for a sunrise to come. It was some compilation, laughing at the failures of other people. They'd been maybe fourteen, fifteen then, just before Darla, before her past caught up to them all. 

At one video, Tim winced, rubbing the back of his knees. 

“You ok?” Bernard half laughed.

“Yeah, just the sympathy pain.”

“Sympathy pain?”

“Yeah,” he grimaced, “Like when you see someone else get hurt and feel the weird tingly pain behind your knees.”

Bernard laughed, and not just by half this time. “I’ve never heard of that. Maybe you’re magic.”

“Eh, I don’t think that’d be so fun.”

“Booo, magic is always cool. Who plays the human in DND, without even becoming a sorcerer or something?”

“Me. Magic isn’t all fun and games, you know.”

“You tell yourself that, Mr. Magic knees.”

“Bernard! Are you ok?”

He clutched his hand, where a small but angry blister had begun to form. Sucking in a breath, he nodded. “I’m back. Sorry. Sorry, I… Sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

“Hey, don’t do that, you did nothing wrong. It looked like a flashback.” Dick hadn’t moved his hand from Bernard’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. Grounding him, of course. That's what the smell of the candle was meant for. Well, it sort of worked, at least. 

“My parents will want me home soon.”

“Not until we have that hand sorted, Mr. Dowd. Forgive my demanding attitude, but you must at least let us tend to your injuries.”

He shrugged, brushing his thumb over the forming blister to feel the smooth skin. Aside from the stinging pain, it was a soothing sensation, like running his fingers across silk. He felt as fragile as silk, like one small tear could shred him in two with a single pull. Embarrassment heated his cheeks.

“I’m fine, it’s only a little burn. I just needed something to pull me back to reality, and it worked! I’ll slap a blister plaster on it when I get back. Easy peasy.”

Instead of the agreement he expected, the butler’s lips thinned. “Mr. Dowd, you hit your head, and though it's only a small amount, you are bleeding.”

“Just let one of us help, Bernard,” Babs implored. “Then we’ll take you home. Promise.” “Cross out hearts and hope to die.” another gentle smack landed on Dick’s shoulder, and he grinned up at the redhead. “I really need to get out of your range whenever I'm being funny.”

“If that's what you call it. Come on, Bear, up you get hun.”

Of course there was a room in the house specifically for keeping medical supplies. Not a cupboard in a kitchen, where you’d have to put on bandages propped on the end of the bath, but a small room with a table to sit on, blanketed with blue cloth. 

Alfred dabbed at the small cuts on Bernard’s head, where he’d apparently hit his left side into the floor during his scramble towards the wall. Little cotton buds speckled red lay asleep in a metal tray next to him, like sheep in a pen. He poked one. 

“Mr. Dowd, please don’t play with medical waste covered in your own blood. It’s not entirely sanitary.”

Sheepish, Bernard pulled away, and began stroking the back of his finger over his blister. It had lost some of the redness already, but the smoothness of his now clean skin still captivated him.

“Sorry.” “Didn’t I request you stop apologizing after the first dozen times you said sorry?” a hmmph, and another cotton ball fell into the bowl. It landed blood side up. “Mr. Dowd, I understand that I am not as close to you as other members of the family are, though I wanted you to know that if you ever want to discuss anything, whether that be issues of just the weather, I am here for you. I also invite you to speak now, if you’re ready.”

A pause. 

“Is it melodramatic if I say it doesn’t feel like I ever will be ready?”

“I believe melodrama tends to be lessened when paired with self awareness, however, your belief isn’t melodramatic in the slightest Mr. Dowd. I understand. But as someone who felt the same, and has felt so many times, I can tell you you will be. I see it in you Mr. Dowd. you’re strong, and can take on much more than you should. Perhaps your issue lies in your strength.”

Bernard scrunched his nose. “That doesn’t make much sense.”

“Of course it doesn’t, these things tend to be quite difficult to grasp. I admit, I still find it hard myself.”

“And you’re ancient, so I have years to catch up on you. Decades even.”

A rare chuckle burst out of the old man, and he pulled the cotton bud away from Bernard’s temple briefly. “My, you are familiarizing yourself. You’ve definitely had too much influence from the boys, and Miss Stephanie I suspect. Now, I believe your head will be ok now, though I suggest you be careful about washing your hair for the next few days, until the scabs have formed at least. Would you like to stay for a while? I am quite enjoying our chat, wise remarks aside.”

“No thanks,” Bernard shook his head. “I really need to get home. Though this has been… helpful, even if it has left me with more questions than I had.”

“The best teacher tends to question the student, Mr. Dowd, rather than give them the answers. Some things you need to understand independently, and some you need someone by your side for.”

“So what’s the best question you could leave me with before I go asking myself all these questions?”

A glint formed in the old man’s eyes, and he began to clear away the mess. The cotton balls tumbled in the bin.

“Well, I believe it would be best to ask you this- who do you believe is the best person to be by your side throughout this journey? And do you think your first choice is really the best?”

Tim drove the two home, hovering so close to Bernard on the journey to the car he was practically stepping on his toes. Bernard was almost sure he had been given a pep talk by Bruce to not pick him up and carry him to the car, which was likely enforced by Cass lurking in a corner, Harper waving a wooden spoon at him, and Jason taking the piss out of him, because god forbid the guy be direct with expressing his emotions. Just to shut him up, and partly because he wanted to share the warmth Tim always seemed to lack, Bernard took his arm.

He didn’t remember most of the car ride, but he did remember the golden fields rolling past, the harps playing on one of Tim’s CDs, the drone of Tim’s voice, sounding like he was underwater. 

Then he was home. The house. No welcome mat at the entrance, that had been stolen years ago, one night when he was maybe twelve or thirteen. It had a cat on it, ginger, and waving a pink paw as each guest stepped over it. 

Tim offered to walk him up to the entrance, Bernard refused, kissed him goodbye, just a peck on the cheek in case anyone was watching, and ran off. Routing, really, a regular dance they tangoed in the fortnight since Bernard had first broken into the Wayne Manor. Ever since he began to integrate into the family, sneaking out at night when his parents were gone or asleep, making sure to be back before they returned or were awake for the first week, then not even bothering with that. Indifference isn’t something you really need to run from. Indifferent people never chase you.

His bed greeted him more warmly than either of his parents had, cool covers folded neatly from the previous evening. The last two nights, he didn’t even bother to pretend it was slept in before he left. No point, really.

He pulled the covers up to his chin, back pressed against the pillows between him and the wall, clutching the corner over his mouth. Was he hiding? This felt like hiding. Though his room wasn’t dark enough in the dawning autumn evening for the dark shadows to cast shapes on his wall, something that would have prompted his younger self to turn on the night life his mother had bought him. It was shaped like a frog, and he stared at it each night until he fell asleep, safe under his little green guardian’s unblinking watch. When he was ten, he’d come home to find the little guardian gone. He’d already learnt not to cry when he saw his father in the doorway, shaking his head. Don’t be so childish, Bernard. You were named after your grandfather, and he never cried. Don’t you want to be strong like him? Like me?

He woke up trapped, legs kicking against the blankets weighing him down, his arm trapped between the bed and the wall. His head screamed, and the plaster on his blistered hand had long since been scraped off in his blind panic to get out of his trap. Finally, he was free. Scrapes and splinters littered his arm and palm, the heel being the main victim. Elbow scraped to pieces.. But he was free. He was free. Right?

When he woke up the second time, with the pillows lodged firmly in the gap and his covers torn off and thrown on the floor, Bernard realised why he’d work up in such a state. He hadn’t fallen asleep alone in two weeks. 

You’ll wake up alone too. Come back home, Bernard. 

“BERNARD, GET UP!”

With a gasp, Bernard shot up out of bed. His heart seemed to be trying to hammer its way out of his chest, so loud he felt his blood roar in his ears.

The sheets on the floor tangled his feet as he tried to get his bearings, and he slammed into the floor, only saved by whatever soft thing he’d fallen onto. He was fairly certain he’d collected all the pillows in his room to shove between his bed and the wall, but maybe he’d pulled on out in his panic.

But when he looked, he saw the sheets were on top of it. The sheets that had been lying flat last night.

He poked the pillow that hadn’t been there last night, brow furrowed. It was firmer than his pillows tended to be, like the decorative pillows on his parents couch he never sat on. It twitched.

Bernard screamed.

He threw himself back, jarring his back against the wooden bedframe, kicking out at whatever the fuck had wormed it’s way under his bedsheets.

“What the fuck what the fuck what the FUCK.”

Frantically following the tube-like shape of the thing under his bed sheets, Bernard's eyes travelled further… further… further. Oh. Oh. What the fuck.

What looked like a long, thin slug trailed out of the end of the blanket, covered in a black tar-like substance, which seeped across the wooden floorboards, staining the bottom of his cabinets, darkening his rug. The slug itself trailed across his floor, up the wall, looping around three walls until it reached his door, where it disappeared from view. The walls dripped with the tar-like substance, brown bleeding across the once white surfaces. The slug thing went left out of the doorway.

In the direction of his parents’ room.

Bernard bolted up, ducking low as he sprinted out of the room to warn his parents. The hallway was full of more of the Things lined the walls and ceiling of the hallway, crossing over each other, looping around furniture, sometimes in such thick bundles Bernard couldn’t even avoid brushing past them as he ran, his skin crawling with revulsion at the sensation. 

“Mom! Dad!”

Their room was empty.

Taking a second to assess the amount of Things crammed into the staircase, Bernard decided he was already covered in enough of whatever the gooey substance was that any more wouldn’t really matter. He sucked in a breath, braced himself, and dove headfirst down the tubes. He slid down, tumbling just at the bottom, landing in a heap in the only bare patch of floor.

His head screamed with pain.

No. His mother screamed, voice wretched, ripping out of her as she sprinted closer. “No, mom, no, get out! Get out! You need to run!”

“Darling, you hit your head, stay still!”

Footsteps approaching, almost running, but they weren’t allowed to run in the house. “MOM, RUN!”

“I’m here darling, I’m coming.”

She rounded the corner.

He reached out a hand, wishing he could stop her but knowing he was helpless.

And she ran through the Things.

Not over, not around. Through them.

The Things recoiled as she ran through them like they were nothing more than smoke, bunching up, darting away, tar spraying everywhere. 

But Bernard had touched them, had slid down them, and fallen on them. He was still covered in the tar, and the bits that were drying had even begun to pull his skin tight, tacky like the tree sap from the trees he’d play on as a kid, pulling off the bark to reveal the bloody syrup beneath. The Things, the substance they secreted, it was just as real as those trees all those years ago. Wasn’t it?

Emmeline Dowd, his mother, his frail, reserved mother, ran through the Things, falling to the ground beside him, cupping his cheeks as tears welled in her eyes.

Why was she see through? Was she a ghost? Was she… no, she couldn’t be dead. She was his mom.

“Oh love, what happened? Are you ok?”

“Mom, there were- there were these things- tentacles, or slugs, I don't know- I don't know! I just woke up, and then they were everywhere, and I thought you were-” he choked, sobbing as he tried to warn her. “They’re still everywhere, can’t you see them?”

“No dear, there’s nothing there-”

“What is the boy rambling about now?”

The hands cupping his cheeks twitched, then pulled him in, burying his head in her shoulder.

“He’s saying he’s seeing monsters dear, he’s scared, I think-”

“Oh damn what you think,” snapped Robert Dowd, somewhere to Bernard’s left. “If the boys got into some ridiculous new age drugs I’ll be ringing up that’s kook school of his and be giving them a piece of my mind. It’s that scholarship program, I tell you, letting all the wrong sort from the wrong parts of Gotham in.”

“Robert, you can’t say things like that,” Emmeline hissed, her posture tensing, like a snake coiled to strike. She never usually stood up to her husband, but having a more open mind than Robert, her own friendship circle expanded outside of the upper middle class areas of Gotham, and was one of the few things she stood up to him for. Sometimes Bernard made it onto that short list too.

“I can say what I bloody well please, I’m the man of the house, aren’t I?”

“You’re the prick of the house,” Bernard mumbled.

A crash, and a photo frame landed just at his feet.

“Don’t start thinking you’re smart, boy. You’re going to end up just like your aunt, a disgrace! You have no clue how good you have it!”

“You mean the aunt who has two doctorates and has a published research journal every other month? Yeah, a real disgrace-“

Something, or rather someone, ragged on his by pajama sweatshirt collar, yanking him up. His mother cried out behind him, and his father towered over him.

“I don’t know where you all of a sudden decided you’re a comedian, but I’d suggest you stop.”

Bernard scowled, biting back his own suggestion to cut back on the brandy that rolled off his tongue in noxious fumes. 

“Did I make myself clear?”

“You articulated yourself well for a drunk.”

The next second he was on the floor, his mother yelling. Screaming. 

She was crouched over him, berating the ‘man of the house’, hand swiping at his legs whenever he came near. 

For once, he made it onto Emmeline Dowd’s list of people to stand up for.

Warmth swelled in his chest, despite the heat stinging his cheek.

Bernard stared at the Things around him, which recoiled at the slight light that emanated from above him. He tried to open his eyes, despite the pain in his left, and saw his mother was now fully opaque, a warm glow emanating from her bunched fists. He reached out, stroking one of her small hands, wondering if his aunt wasn’t the only odd one of the family.

“Mom?”

“Quiet Bernard. Your father and I are talking. Get out, Robert, or put down that glass. You’ve gone too far this time.”

A laugh. “Ohh, I’ve gone too far, have I? What are you going to do, Emmeline? Leave me? Take the boy? Talk to your tramp friends about how mean I am? Get over yourself. This is my house, my drink, my sweat blood and tears I put into trying to raise a good young man. But here you are, insisting on belittling my efforts, raising a soft little boy who still thinks what he does matters. He’s nothing without our name, without my family name, and neither are you. My father got it wrong with my sister, he was too soft with her, always treated her. But me? He knew what to do with me, and now look at me! I’m a real man, I provide for your lavish lifestyle, give him a good education for him to waste it on wanting to be a vet of all things, and I now have enough money I could retire and never run out of money for the next century. I always go far, but it’s never too far. I’m always right where I want to be, and have everyone else right where I want them to be. So either he gets in line, or he gets out of my house.”

“Go to your room Bernard, your father and I clearly need to have a conversation when our heads are more clear.”

A gentle push, and he was in his feet, stumbling up the stairs as his parents Carrie don beneath him.

“Clearly he got caught in a fear has pocket yesterday, this are always a problem in the weeks after attacks-”

“-Always another excuse-“

“-I’m sorry-“

Those last two words always came. They meant Bernard would just be in his regular level of trouble, and nothing would change. His father was off the hook, and he was on it in his place.

The Things in his room bristled nearly constantly, more filling the old oak-lined floors as the voices below fell off, the tensions yet again going nearly unaddressed. They’d stick around, no getting away from them, hallucinations or not.

Well…

‘…either he gets in line, or he gets out of my house’

Had he ever really been in line?

Maybe it was time to fully commit, play his part as the newest Dowd that no one talks about at the dinner table, join his aunt as one of the different ones. There was something appealing about only being mentioned in quiet voices, like he was some monster they didn’t want to manifest.

He flipped open his phone, and before five minutes was up, he’d opened a new bank account, transferred all his funds, and begun looking up the cheapest housing areas in Gotham. Crime Alley was the obvious answer, and not one he was entirely against. No one would care who he was there. If his parents came looking, they’d mind their own business. If his parents came looking.

Finally, he found somewhere. A one bedroom apartment, close enough to the dangerous bit of Crime Alley to be near criminally cheap (he wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth), and far enough from where Thomas and Martha Wayne were killed to not be weirdly pricey for the area. Only in Gotham would a public murder raise the value of the property around it. Either way, he was only a half hour walk from the Gotham Community College, so he could drop out of Gotham Prep no issue. Maybe he’d even change his degree, commit to the whole new doing what he wanted thing.

So, after three hours of arranging funds, hunting for both university courses and nearby jobs, and placing an offer on somewhere to live, Bernard finally knelt on his floor. The Things still bristled, but seemed to retract whenever he neared. 

With the housing possibly sorted, his money all quietly transferred, and his new place on the GCC animal management, behaviour and welfare course already applied, finally Bernard came to the last part of his great escape.

An empty suitcase sat expectant in front of him, open and waiting to be filled with whatever Bernard decided to take with him into his new life. He was torn between reinventing himself and still wanting to stay the same. The guy he was now was the guy who survived the cult, the guy who lasted eighteen years under the same roof as Robert and Emmeline Dowd, the same guy who Tim Drake fell for. Why would he want to lose that?

His head turned fuzzy, and the single lamp on his desk seemed a hundred times brighter, the light splitting into his head behind his eyes. He groaned, stumbling up to turn it off, not even noticing the Things retract as he practically fell across the room. Even with the light off, the soft autumn light filtering through his window seemed to drive nails into his face. Across the room. Blinds shut. Things shifted. He rose. No. He fell. Hit the ground. Crawled to his bed. Crawled in. Pulled every blanket, pillow and stuffed toy he could find over his head. The static that came with shadows filled his senses, replacing the pain. He curled up, tucking his knees so tight he couldn’t breathe without gasping for air. 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of fighting for air, for the pain to go away, his exhaustion chased off the panic, even if the pain didn’t fully dissipate. 

Sleep crept up on him, accompanied by the soft tones of flutes as he drifted off.

[marlasomething]

(my) Mag a Week: Pressing Messages

Hello there!

I am participating in the "a mag a day" idea by @a-mag-a-day  which is BRILLIANT and I decided to do "statement a week", rolling dice with the characters and fears that were ftw that week in the episodes I have listened. This is week I am pretty late AGAIN: I AM SO SORRY, REAL LIFE (this time mainly helping out my mom) GOT IN THE WAY.

For today I rolled Archivist!Jonathan Sims (so the change is that I go with Sasha and Tim "swapping" roles) and The Buried (Eps. 113-120).

As usual, please do forgive my quick tipper and non-native speaker mistakes, Marla

Allons-y!

CW: anxiety, manipulation of sorts, swearing, entrapment in more than one manner

Also: worth noticing the reason this one is shorter is that I almost had an anxiety attack myself writing it.

Also on AO3!

Statement of @arthemispersonaldevil, regarding why she had to make this statement via mail.

Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, err…The Archivist, apparently?

Statement begins.

 Another three emails had entered since I opened this tab to begin writing to you. I don’t know for how long I will be able to keep this up without going insane, but I have to answer, if I don’t…well, what if one of them is the actual important one? What if it has been sent a bit later than expected and then the time-period to answer ends just as I am about to answer?

I out to, I must keep the mail open, and pay attention…just keep answering…

 Sorry, I know this is rather insane. At a logical, cerebral, level, I get it: I shouldn’t be getting worked-up by it. I should just close the computer and even, maybe, give myself a few days off-line. If only for eyes to rest and stop being so blood-shot I would have sworn the irises where starting to be tainted by the blood effusion.

It is not so easy to actually do it, though. The moment I lock the screen, my chest starts hurting and my brain spirals into all the possible messages I might be missing due to my lack of interest. My selfish stupid lack of interest. After all, didn’t I open this account on my own free will? Wasn’t I the one that payed actual real money so I could access to all the advantages for a “ more immersive experience ”?

It is bizarre: simultaneously knowing that what you are doing is destroying you and being certain is the only good option you have going for you. However, let’s not begin in the present (and, unless I actually manage to force myself to get something to eat and/or drink, also the End for me), let’s begin at a very good place to start.

 Even before this whole personal crisis began, I had always been the kind of person who needs to be sure they had done everything possible with their time. The one that stays behind to check the gas twice and the door thrice; the one whose only failings in exams came from the block provoked at the thought of, well, getting something wrong.

Many, many times I felt as if I was a fish swimming in a far too big see while still being stuck in a far too small tank: everything was hard to achieve but everything was far too close , so immediate.

This also applied to emails, and how badly email platforms have always worked when I am the one manipulating them. This caused me extremely high levels of distress, especially as I waited to see whether I got a place in the Master’s Degree I was interested in. By the point my workmate proposed this to me, I had been nervous for so long, lost in my own thoughts, that I had bitten my finger until the very flesh and bone where more than visible and my fingertips tasted rather metallic.

The boy (something with a T…Tom? Maybe, it was just the most common name imposed over the most common of faces) said that it looked as if I need a breather and handled me an URL written down on a sheet of paper. He said that you could use it to make it astonishingly easy to organise your mail and that that relaxed him, maybe it could help me too.

I shrugged, trying to look unaffected (I have an issue with searching for help...that might explain a lot, come to think to it); wondering how curious it was, almost funny, that he had to offer an optimizer-organizer to help me relax when it was the only thing I was usually able to do when I had to release stress.

 I should have guessed something was off the moment I entered the page at home. First of all: what kind of email-focused company has a hearse as their logo? Whose funeral was it supposed to be the one the owners were mourning, or celebrating?

However, curiosity killed the cat, so I’ll be dammed. I made an account and everything was wonderful, exactly as I have always wished for: I could get the precise notifications I wanted with an over-the-top mill-metrically calculated filter and I would never miss an important mail ever gain.

I felt as if a weight had been lifted from me…

…until I made a mistake, and let an email be muted due to my extremely selective criteria.

One of a personal matter, so I won’t discuss it beyond saying that it was one that hurt like Hell to read when I knew nothing else could be done.

That was the moment things turned…well, as they keep being right now.

 I first cut off one of the silliest filters I had put on, something about mentioning “cat food” (since I am allergic to cats and only have owned birds as far as I can recall and can prove with childish pictures taken by people I haven’t called “parents” in a very long time took of me centuries ago), but then, in a very nicely formulated text, the platform itself wondered that, if I suddenly wanted those mails not to be automatically muted, there were at least another three tags that should also appear again…or I might lose an important email (just for my knowledge, of course).

At the end of the day, all mails made my screen shine like a Christmas tree.

 Now, the thing is, as days passed, I started to get lazy. Yeah, I got very obsessed about having to answer to every single message that popped into my dash, but life imposed itself and I ought to cut down something, so in emails it would be. Or at least, that I tried.

Every time I was about to reach the phase of sleeping in which you cannot be awakened (don’t ask me the name, please, it is completely out of my wheelhouse), an email appeared, and it was always something ever so slightly relevant and quite urgent in what the timing for answering was concerned.

Because, apparently, I had received them before but chose not to pay attention, so now I was losing sleep and maybe failing people I cared about. Failing in my studies and professional life…

…that couldn’t happen. So, since that night up to this very moment, I chose to always have my email account open. The pressure for having to answer is still there, but at least it allows me to breath…for now. There is…something off with my fingers…it’s kind of the other reason I had to email this to you…

…I think my fingers and the keyboard…

…maybe it is for the best.

  Statement ends.

  Well, if Elias wanted to prove that these powers that Leitner spoke about were influential in all aspects of our lives…point for him. Only thing he has done right up to know. That, and cooking quite remarkably for an evil villain; if I wasn’t perpetually stressed out by the chance of police mauling this bloody three stories apartment, I might have already gained quite a few pounds since he extorted me into staying here to be taught.

Eh, well, at least, I haven’t lost even more…Dear Lord, I look like a corpse, which sounds suitable, since I am becoming a monster…

…at least, as long as I keep learning from Elias, Sasha and Martin will be okay…God…they had to face Not-Tim…I…I cannot imagine.

I just hope that, since Grace didn’t say her name on the statement, perhaps, if she is still alive, I won’t also dream of…fuck, I know her name.

Never mind.

End recording.

[forjustice]

@ancient-pokehistorian gets a starter that's long overdue :3

The Alabaster Icelands were always the place where Ginkgo Guild merchants wanted to go the least. So even though Volo had shown no sign she was all but immune to the below-freezing temperatures and relished the twenty-foot snows that fell even when every other part of Sinnoh was well into spring, Ginter put her on double duty up there because he hoped it'd give her a "change in attitude." How it had pained her to have to pretend to be like all these other human plebians, what with their need to bundle up as soon as a couple of clouds covered the sun and the little thing they liked to call dehydrating in the cold because they couldn't get their moisture from their food. But just as she had planned all along, it got her sent up here because Ginter was under the impression that this was some sort of punishment. Hah.

Perhaps it is a punishment today, though, because of the mess she's got herself in. Damn--damn--damn--when that territorial Garchomp bit her, they bit hard. After a few minutes of firing moves back and forth the other dragon, likely still a youngster of less than fifty years, had fled in a swift retreat. But they were smart, and knew how to aim. The huge bite they left right on her knee? It HURTS. It hurts like it's broken. She's stuck here, still in her AMAB form because even alone in the wilderness she doesn't dare present female, trying not to scream and attract more predators than the smell of blood already will--and she can feel the first flakes of an oncoming snow begin to fall on her shoulders. And she's literally just started checking the bite area when she senses what she thinks is another threat.

It's a man, who she can tell at a glance is a cheerful and perhaps overly eager sort. But her nose and her dragon instincts say something different. They don't say human. They say DOG.

The Kitzoro fur she's shapeshifted underneath her shirt to stay warm bristles threateningly, and she wishes the man could see it. Dogs hunt kitsunes. Kitsunes hate dogs. The fear, the hatred, the revulsion--with her supernatural powers, it rolls off her in waves. She clenches her jaw, trying not to snarl even though this creature might already know her identity in case there's a chance he wouldn't. And then, her eyes blazing with a dragon's fire, she issues a warning.

"I don't need your help." She spits the words. "You have one chance to LEAVE."

Bold words from one who is stranded in the wilderness, on the ground with a potentially broken leg--but if Saburo dares do anything but run, he'll soon see she can back up her words.

[jdgo51]

DAILY DEVOTIONAL FOR DECEMBER 31, 2023

Old News

By Cindy Lee (England, United Kingdom)

READ LUKE 12:27-34

"Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to your life?"

LUKE 12:25 (NIV)

“'Cindy, can you look through your college and work boxes and decide which items you want to keep and which you want to recycle?” Mum asked. My parents were downsizing and sorting through the accumulated clutter from living in the same house and caring for three children for many years.

Sifting through my belongings, I found essays and assignments I had completed for my teaching degree. Glancing at the grades and scribbled comments, I recalled the stress of looming deadlines and my constant fear of failure. I was transported back to a time when feelings of urgency and worries about the future dominated. What was all that worry and panic for? Worrying did not achieve anything except for stress churning inside of me. What had felt so urgent and important at the time has passed.

Constant worrying really is a waste of time because one day, like the assignments I shredded, it will be old news. We weren’t meant to stay stuck in the past but to allow ourselves to be constantly renewed. Although it was hard shredding the essays and the hours of work they represented, it was the right thing to do because they represented the past. Now I can more strongly embrace the hope of new adventures and beginnings with God. I have learned that whatever happens, God will lead us to the place we need to be, even if it is unexpected."' Trust God and He will lead us to where we need to go. This is true in any situation we may find ourselves in. Let past things go and look ahead to your future.

TODAY'S PRAYER

"Loving God, teach us how to unclutter our lives and minds. Help us to continually trust in you to renew us each day." Amen.

Luke 12:27-34

"'27 Notice how the lilies grow. They don’t wear themselves out with work, and they don’t spin cloth. But I say to you that even Solomon in all his splendor wasn’t dressed like one of these. 28 If God dresses grass in the field so beautifully, even though it’s alive today and tomorrow it’s thrown into the furnace, how much more will God do for you, you people of weak faith! 29 Don’t chase after what you will eat and what you will drink. Stop worrying. 30 All the nations of the world long for these things. Your Father knows that you need them. 31 Instead, desire his kingdom and these things will be given to you as well. 32 “Don’t be afraid, little flock, because your Father delights in giving you the kingdom. 33 Sell your possessions and give to those in need. Make for yourselves wallets that don’t wear out—a treasure in heaven that never runs out. No thief comes near there, and no moth destroys. 34 Where your treasure is, there your heart will be too."' Share your desires and your heavenly father wants to give these to you. Share your prosperity with others. May your treasures be i n heavenly things and your heart will be present at that same time. Bless you on this New Year's Eve. We pray for great things ahead in 2024. Joe

[flipsidcd]

meet carson brennan, a drummer and grocery store cashier who lives in the arts district of ashmore. he's 26, born 06/22, making him a cancer - which makes sense, he is pretty careless and cheerful. he's originally from carson city, nevada; i wonder if he'll stay in ashmore for long ― owen patrick joyner, bisexual, cis man + he/him.

𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒. statistics / timeline / connections & wcs / pinterest / playlist

𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒.

floppy golden hair that keeps falling in your face, bouncy legs, drumming on any surface you can find, big toothy smiles, rolled down windows in a beat up car, the ability to make a game out of anything, matchless optimism, way too much holiday spirit, and wisdom found where you least expect it.

𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘.

the oldest of two children had in a desperate bid to save a failing marriage.

were one to view the earliest of carson's years from an outside lens, there'd probably be cause for concern. the family was in a constant state of flux and motion: moving from place to place, never settling down, never establishing a sense of home or normalcy. had his parents not been as good as they were at shielding their kids from the chaos that was their life, things would have been a lot worse.

in carson's eyes, though, it was all a blast. he's always been an adventurous, outgoing, and optimistic guy, so new places just meant new friends to make and new things to do. being the eternal "new kid" at school during his elementary years never really bothered him either. even if it was only for a fleeting moment, he had a way of worming into the hearts of the people around him. in fact, he still keeps in touch with a good chunk of them.

after his parents finally decided to call it quits when he was 9, he stuck with his mom and sister, and the three officially settled down in ashmore a year later.

his mom remarried when he was 19, introducing a stepfather and his kids into their family.

to be entirely honest, it was hard acclimating to being in one place for an extended period of time. carson left pieces of himself on the open road and every place he lived before, and that's made it hard to really, fully, 100% settle into ashmore the way his sister and mother have.

that being said, he did start a band when he was 14 ! the flip side is a passion born from the love of music he inherited from his mother and the wanderlust he inherited from his father. while the local fame they've garnered recently doesn't really interest him, he's intrigued by the idea of potentially expanding a little bit outward. at least to other places in oregon. mostly he just wants an excuse to roadtrip with his friends.

while the band is his passion, it doesn't really pay the bills. in fact, it sort of does the opposite. to counteract this, carson became the king of the odd job. he's walked dogs, mowed lawns, delivered pizza, newspapers, and everything in-between. he's worked classic jobs too, like at the tackle shop, gas station, arcade, and as a barista and waiter. unfortunately, he's got an issue with maintaining these jobs. not because he's a bad worker ( well... debatable ), but mostly because he gets bored and has a tendency to leave for... not necessarily greener, but newer pastures.

at present, he's working as a cashier at the grocery store. it's okay. he likes that he gets to interact with people a lot, but the paycheck definitely leaves something to be desired. he doesn't really think about that part too much though, much to his friends and sister's chagrin.

sometimes he'll help his sister with her wedding planner business. not in any huge or meaningful way, but he'll help get supplies and set up venues. it's not really his thing, but he likes helping out where he can. again: he's the king of the odd job.

he does not have a college degree. beyond the social aspect, he didn't really like the structure of school ( #justadhdthings ), so he just didn't go back after squeaking through high school.

right now, he's just vibing. he's in an eternal state of just vibing.

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘.

golden retriever energy to a T.

cancer sun, capricorn moon, leo rising. the leo rising runs strong in this one.

he's kinda got spencer from icarly vibes. like, he's a bit of a grown child, but he's got wisdom beyond his age at the same time, you know ?

also has michael berzatto vibes in that he's a bit careless, can make one feel like they can do anything, and everyone feels he's their best friend.

he's really chill. there's very little that can be done to phase him. this is for better and for worse i fear since it can make him a bit of a rug.

he always remembers a face ! honestly he's got a really good memory in general.

would go to the ends of the earth for his friends and family ! he's incredibly loyal !

that said, also a bit non-committal. not in a relationship sense, but in a life sense. he gets bored with jobs and hobbies ( excluding music / drumming / the band, though even those have the occasional dip ) and ditches them for new things at the drop of a hat. he still doesn't mentally feel 100% settled in ashmore, even if he logically is.

the kind of person that will strike up a conversation with anyone and everyone. baristas, customers, some old guy he passed watering his lawn during his morning walk. it literally doesn't matter. he's allergic to being shy.

yes, he goes on daily walks. he loves a daily walk.

can't keep a plant alive to save his life.

often serves as emotional support for his friends and family.

a little gross ! a little bit boy gross ! burps in public ! the 5 second rule is more of a suggestion ; sometimes it can be 10 seconds !

none of the decorations in his apartment were things he picked out. if it were up to him, he'd probably have an r/malelivingspace, but the people in his life have essentially decorated his place for him. in most ways this is a good thing, but there's definitely a few more... questionable items that he got as gag gifts ( there are so many ugly throw blankets and weird knickknacks ).

a bit of a sleeper agent at trivia night. knows a lot of random, pointless knowledge. ...what ? he may not have done great in school, but that doesn't stop him from watching a lot of trivia shows.