#And the only thing that has genuinely put her life at risk was the infected belly button at a week old

[kelpiemomma]

Non-horse people: horses can break their legs just by running too fast! They're too fragile!

Maevus: (does this)

(recovers & keeps running 100% fine)

[justreckin]

Thinking about Memento Mori again. Because as much as I enjoy that episode…. What are we doing with Una?

I mean, I enjoy a little bit of injury and whump for my fav as much as the next girl. And I understand the concept of introducing ticking clocks in fiction to create urgency. But the ticking clocks they chose??

First off sepsis is awful and (at least in vetmed) very difficult to treat. But it’s also infection. Something we literally just last episode learned that Una’s body will burn off?? Granted, waiting too long and having Una turn into a glow stick in the middle of a very busy sickbay would also be a bad idea, but she likely wouldn’t have to worry about “feeling like she was giving birth out of her mouth.”

But even more than that….. you don’t use plasma for surgery. Or maybe this is just a vetmed thing, so anyone with human med experience please weigh in, but you use fluids during surgery. Even with oozing, life threatening wounds, you run iv fluids throughout the surgery and for at least several hours after. Plasma comes only about 12 hours later, and even then that’s only if the patients bloods are really bad. Because, y’know, you don’t want to introduce the risk of allergic reaction to a system which has already been heavily taxed due to injury and blood loss.

Which would also be a good reason to not just randomly give a transfusion from doctor to patient. Especially since blood loss can be detrimental to a persons ability to function, which might just maybe be a really bad idea in an extreme triage situation.

So, I mean, shout out to those fanfic authors who’ve put Una in glow stick isolation for her recovery. I’d say you’re right on the money.

(Oh, and double shout out to those couple of fanfics I’ve come across that implied Una’s mods make her unaware of just how badly she’s been injured, rather than just casually reckless. Personal opinion, but way more interesting reasoning and characterization. We already know Chris is reckless as hell, we don’t need both ships parents being idiots.)

All in all, this mostly makes me laugh but also I genuinely have questions.

[tigorrrr]

𝗗𝗿𝗮𝗯𝗯𝗹𝗲 || prompt::casually putting a hand on the other's body

asked by @infinitnei

Ship(?): Diya & Baraka

Rated: fluff

Warnings: OOC?? Baraka gets soft here - i need my men like i need my coffee :: desperate for affection

           It has been too long since the Tarkatan desease. Excruciatingly long.

           Since Baraka lost everything he held dear, his family and his job, only a small colony of the infected is what made him to keep on living. His only purpose.

           Baraka himself kept any living thing far from him as possible if it can be helped, his reflexes tingling when one would be too close and their skins would connected.

           No one wanted to touch a disfigured, deseased man like him anyway. And he got used to it over time. Used to the lack of a human contact.

           But for the life of him nothing could prepare him for what came after he met a group of few Earthrealmers that were after Shang Tsung. The team's woman was unpredictable, too hands-y.

           One would wonder if she hadn't lost her sanity. Did she inhaled too much air in the presence of the Tarkatan group?

           When she got too near, Baraka wouldn't notice her until a second-too-late. Diya always hid in the shadows of others, she says they are warmer than those of an inanimate object, and quite literally appeared out of them.

           In all his life after Tarkatan he was never touched so many times a day. Baraka stopped counting after the number reached over five.

           Or was it Diya's way of taunting? Torturing him when she knew that this is the thing he will never recieve anymore, a one's genuine touch. But why would she risk getting contamined in the process?

           

           Baraka needed time to process it thoroughly.

           But fate had other plans.

           It was when the Zaterrian and the Tarkatan ran ahead to see the course of gourgling on blood and slashing, they came to face a Netherrealmer who was far from feeling like greeting them as befitting. The demon woman's sword was her greeting.

           That's when Baraka felt it, before he could do something about it he was being touched.

           A warm, pearly-white palm, feminine and gentle was placed right on his exposed breast, inches from the hardened bone spikes poking from underneath his skin on the right side of his chest.

           Diya appeared with the rest of her body from an abysmal mist in front of the deseased man that towered over her even with those 5 inch heels she only wears. She pushed back at his chest, unsheathing her wakizashi katana from behind her hip just in time to return the greeting.

           The sparks looked lovely in the Netherrealmer's eyes of eternal dark, is what Diya mused to herself.

           Before Diya countered the next attack, she looked back at Baraka and it was clear from the tiny wrinkles around her violet orbs that she was smiling underneath the silvery mask. "Leave her to me, darling."

           There was a nostalgic fluttering from under Baraka's ribs that caged the source. He didn't know what to do about that, yet. His hand wanted to touch that place that began to miss the heat of another, but he couldn't let his thoughts wonder.

           The two Outworlders watched the Earthrealmer's confident skill with swordsmanship. The Lin Kuei woman can hold her own in a battle, is what they both learned and admired that day.

           They began to be an odd bunch, their 'team'. Four Earthrealmers, two Outworlders, and a Netherrealmer. It's almost like a beginning of a joke...

           Now they all are playing happy campers in the forest of the Lost Souls. That's how Johnny quoted it.

           While others prepared some needed things or tended their blind comrade Baraka took it upon himself to gather some wood.

           Baraka was about to pick some dry sticks, kneeling on one knee, when she waltzed over with a hop in her step. Diya was light on her feet, no matter what terrain, no matter if barefoot or with whatever shoe.

           "I thought you'd like some company~" Diya chirped as soon as he looked in her direction.

           Shaking his head, he returned his attention back at the small branches.

           "I can handle this on my own—"

           Baraka's growly voice ended with a sharp inhale. He doesn't know when exactly Diya crossed the distance and now stood next to him, her long, slim legs in his view when he lifted his head to look up at her.

           She leaned against him, hand at his shoulder and her manicured nails teasingly dug into the side of his neck, if they were at his artery she'd feel his thundering bloodstream.

           "I may need a new pair after this..." Diya was checking the heel of one shoe, holding it by her instep and let out a thoughtful hum.

           Baraka stood abruptly and made sure no spike of his body nicked her fragile skin, she was a little started but didn't shy away from their close proximity - rather, she seemed like she's enjoying it. Their moving chests were so close they could brush against eachother, it made his thoughts conflicted.

           He stared her down, trying to decipher this enigma. But the more he gave Diya attention, the more she felt invited.

           "Why do you keep touching me?" his rumbly voice held a softer growl, his brows furrowed but he wasn't exactly glowering. This is far from looking threatening with his condition. Asking this, it stopped her curious fingers from reaching at the nummerous sharp spikes on his right pectoral muscle.

           Diya's brows slightly furrowed in concern. "I'm... sorry. Do you mind that?"

           "You should mind that."

           Her soft pout was replaced by a smile. She was plotting something. She shook her head as a responce, her gaze locked with the rubies that are his eyes. "So, you don't?"

                                                                          No.

           "Yes..."

           The hesitancy was not hidden enough for Diya not to notice it.

           "I am going to caress you now, stop me if you want." she informed him and her hand had already lifted towards his disfigured face.

           Baraka felt like his own thunderring heartbeat was whacking him, made him feel dizzy. He was too stunned to even think of a reply at her sultry brashness.

           Is this a dream? It must be!

           By the Elders, please let this be a reality!

           Baraka held his breath, his whole body tensed and he wished his eyes were open but they refused to do so.

           As Diya's pads of her digits ran along the line of his square jaw up to his earlobe he still thought of this as a surreal moment but when it was her palm that cupped the side of his face he wanted to grasp at her arm to make sure it was not an illusion, but a part of him still held back because of his long forearm spikes, afraid it would hurt her. Then she used her free hand to place it on the neglected, rough cheek of his.

           Diya's thumb ran across his face just above his teeth with gentleness, again and again until Baraka was melting in her grasp.

           At her mercy. Not wishing for it to stop.

           And Diya was more than happy to give him more.

[thesoulspulse]

Danny Phantom Randomness (Desolation)

I just had an interesting thought. To give you a bit of context, in my fanfic “Nowhere To Run” I had Vlad and Danny confront a lot of their personal issues with one another, especially Vlad after he went too far with the cloning incident. Danny’s a tough kid but everyone has their limits as far as how much they’re willing to put up with.

So here’s my thought, what if after the events of TUE Danny becomes extra paranoid of losing his friends and family? For example, when Vlad tries to make Jazz and Danny fight he straight up refuses to instead of putting on an act. This obviously confuses Vlad who has never seen Danny like that and Jazz for once is at a loss for what to do since Vlad injected her with nanobots and legit threatened to “waste her” if she betrayed him, meaning she probably HAS to fight Danny.

Danny seriously loses his cool and goes straight to attacking Vlad so violently to make him turn off the nanobots and ghost shield that for the first time he’s getting a small taste of exactly what Danny’s capable of once he stops holding back. This makes Vlad stop to think about what could have possibly made Danny react like that. Was this just his usual teen angst and raging hormones, or the result of one too many ghost fights giving Danny some serious emotional trauma?

Skipping forward to when Vlad infects Sam and Tucker with ecto-acne, Danny loses it again and doesn’t even try to play nice in front of his parents. He grabs Vlad by the collar of his shirt and threatens Vlad, saying that if ANYTHING happens to them...he’ll kill him. Vlad of course just writes it off as Danny being dramatic since he knows he’ll save them all anyway. And this time, Danny doesn’t screw up the timeline to make sure Vlad doesn’t get his ghost powers since he’s already seen the damage something like that can do.

What finally makes Danny snap is when Vlad kidnaps and tortures him to get a mid-morph sample. He’s had enough. And so, one day Danny goes to confront Vlad and it goes something like this:

After Danny calls Vlad out on how evil he’s become, like a spoiled brat Vlad tries to excuse his actions with the whole “Jack Fenton ruined my life” bit to which Danny responds coldly. “No he didn’t Vlad. It was an accident but you CHOSE to use your powers for selfish reasons. You chose to be my enemy. We could have been friends at least, but no.

“The truth is, Vlad, you don’t know HOW to love anyone. If you did, you wouldn’t do things like this. You wouldn’t threaten the lives of my friends and family or reject someone who genuinely loved you! Dani LOVED you, and you threw that all away because of your stupid obsession with the perfect half-ghost son. Well news flash Vlad, I’ve SEEN how it ends once you get what you think you want...

“In a timeline where I actually lost everything and had to come live with you, you destroyed that too. You destroyed what was left of me and the entire world paid the price for your selfishness. You think my dad ruined your life but that’s where you’re wrong, you did that. You destroy everything you touch which means...the only way to make sure you never turn me into that monster is to become it on my own terms so that I’m the only one who has to live with the guilt. Because I’d rather die a hero...then live long enough to see myself become a worse villain than you.”

After that, Danny goes all out and stops pulling his punches. They duke it out in a seriously intense battle and after Danny comes out on top, but only just, Danny tells Vlad that if he EVER crosses the line again it’s over. No second chances. No mercy. Because Vlad was slowly turning into a real monster, not just some cartoon villain and Danny’s not willing to risk the fate of the world or the safety of his friends and family on sparing the life of a self-centered jerk who keeps saying all he wants is love but then ends up doing things to make Danny hate him more and more as time passes.

So, Vlad has a choice to make.

He can either keep going on like this, pushing Danny away completely.

Or, Vlad can stop and take a long hard look at his life and realize Danny’s right. This has to end before its too late and any chance they might have to become anything more than enemies is gone forever.

Even if Vlad can’t be Danny’s father...he can at least become a mentor which is better than nothing and means he won’t be alone anymore. Then the two of them can have at least one person around who understands them better than anyone else in their lives. Heck, even agreeing to a truce would be a huge improvement...

Anyways, just had to get this idea out of my system. Hope you liked it!

[andvys]

Longing (part 1)

Warnings: “enemies” to lovers type of thing, slow burn, cocky!ellie, alcohol consumption

Pairing: Ellie Williams x reader

Ellie always thought you were the prettiest girl she’s ever seen in her life, you had the most beautiful eyes, the way they would always get lighter in the sun and the way they would always light up whenever you were happy about something. She loved how you would always put your hair into a braid and would still have strands of hair fall in front your eyes, you’d always put them behind your ears only for them to get loose again and fall in front of your eyes once more. She loved how fierce and badass you are, always ready for any situation. You are one of the best fighters in Jackson despite your age. Having seen it herself when you patrolled together, you fought skillfully, making Ellie wonder about where you have learned to fight like that. Anytime something went wrong or someone would say something about hunters or a horde of infected coming Jackson’s way, you’d always be first to volunteer to go and get rid of them. The way you held yourself, Ellie was sure that you could actually get rid of a group of people before they’d even make it to the gates of Jackson. She would never underestimate you. You really were a fascinating person.

If you just weren’t such a bitch.

You were nice to everyone but to her, well except for Seth. Always getting into a fight with the older man.

You weren’t necessarily mean to Ellie but you weren’t exactly nice either, you were sarcastic and feisty with her and you loved to push her buttons but you weren’t as good at it as she was, Ellie always had the upper hand in your little banters and she teased the hell out of you, leaving you annoyed making her smirk every time. She’d also jokingly flirt with you or make dirty jokes, leaving you uncomfortable or at least that’s what Ellie thought. She just loved getting on your nerves.

Dina would always try to convince Ellie that you actually liked her and you just had a funny way of showing that. Ellie would laugh at that every time, she knew you had some sort of resentment towards her for whatever reason.

You wanted to be friends with the girl you really did but something about her annoyed the hell out of you and she made you feel weird. You constantly bickered like little kids and you seemed to have a stand off every time you were patrolling together. She just pissed you off.

“You going to the dance tonight kid?” Joel asked you. Right now you were cleaning the rifles and shotguns in the shed you kept them in. Having injured your shoulder while on patrol a few days ago you were off patrol for a few weeks. So you were assigned for keeping the weapons clean. You were annoyed at that, you had worse injuries before and still fought but Maria wouldn’t let you out, not wanting to risk your health. So here you were boring yourself to death, at least Joel came in to keep you company.

“Umm I don’t know, it’s not really my thing.” You said. Laying the rifle on the table you looked at the older man. Since he and Ellie came to Jackson he became something like a mentor to you. You respected the older man, you already learned more from him than your own father and he was there for you whenever you struggled with yourself.

“That’s what Ellie said too.” You avoided looking at him at the mention of Ellie. You thought, he assumed that you two must be friends, considering you’re in the same friend group. You didn’t even know they were talking again.

“She did?” You asked avoiding his eyes.

“Yes.” He studied your face. He was not stupid, anytime he’d bring up Ellie you got quiet and awkward same with Ellie she reacted the same way at the mention of you.

“Are you going?” You asked him, changing the topic quickly.

“Yeah and you should come too.” He said.

“We’ll see, do I get to have a drink?” You asked, giving him a hopeful smile. He never let you drink.

“Are you 21?” He asked giving you a pointed look.

“Ugh come on Joel, I’m 19 plus I’m allowed to blow up things and kill people and infected but I’m not allowed to have a drink every once in a while?” You said shaking your head.

Joel laughed at that “well maybe you can have a little.” He said.

“Finally, I wanna get drunk.”

“You’re allowed to drink but you’re not allowed to get drunk kid.” Joel said sternly.

“I’ll take what I can get.” Smiling at him. He got up and walked towards you, ruffling your hair.

“I gotta get going, I’ll see you at the dance.”

“Ugh, see ya.” You said annoyed at him for messing up your braid.

Stepping out of the little shed once you were done with your assignment you stood there enjoying the fresh air for a second after being in that shed all day.

Deep in thought you were looking down on your way home, not watching where you were going you ran into something or rather someone, almost falling down if it wasn’t the strong arms catching you by your waist, grabbing their arms you looked up at your savior only to realize that it’s Ellie still with her hands on your waist she had a cocky smirk on her face.

“Careful there (y/n), you almost fell for me.” Smirking at you.

You groaned at that, letting go of her arms you took a step back making her hands let go of your waist.

“Do you want me to escort you home? I don’t want you tripping and falling for someone else.” She said, teasing you

“No thanks Williams, now if you’ll excuse me.” You said, trying to walk past her only for her to step in front of you not letting you go yet, probably to annoy you some more.

“You going to the dance tonight?” Ellie asked. Studying your face.

“Yup.” You replied, looking down on your shoes, avoiding looking at her pretty face.

“Nice, I’ll be there as well.” Ellie said.

“I know, Joel told me.” Shit why did you just say that, you wanted to slap yourself now she knew you and Joel talked about her. Now she would think you’re interested in her, well you are but she doesn’t have to know that.

“Oh, talking about me with Joel when you could talk to me?” She teased.

“Whatever I’m gonna go now, see ya Williams.” You said, this time she stepped aside, letting you leave.

She watched you leave, deep in thought about you she didn’t notice Jesse appearing next to her, throwing an arm around her.

“Man you have it bad for our girl here.” Jesse said, smirking at her. He was aware of Ellie having some sort of feelings for you. It wasn’t hard to see that, Ellie always looked like a kicked puppy around you.

“Shut up, Jesse” Ellie said annoyed.

“She likes you too.”

“What?! No she doesn’t. I’m pretty sure she hates me.” Ellie said, looking down, she began walking away.

Jesse followed her. “She doesn’t hate you, I’ve seen how she acts around people she hates and you aren’t one of them.” He said.

“Well I- so what she likes me now?” She asked. Not believing that you could feel anything towards her but hate.

“She likes Dina and Joel or Tommy and Maria, I’m pretty sure she likes me too, I’m awesome.” Jesse smirked at the last part. “But you? I’d say there’s a little more than “like” Ellie.”

“Are you trying to tell me she has feelings for me?” Ellie laughed at that. Jesse was ridiculous and stupid if he thought you could have feelings for Ellie. Not that she didn’t wish for that but it was too good to be true.

“You know what they say about hate. Love and hate are two sides of the same coin.” Jesse confidently said.

Ellie laughed at that, “alright whatever.” She thought about that. She genuinely couldn’t see you liking her.

It was a little crowded at the dance once you got there. You usually avoided going to these things, not liking being around many people but Dina always made you come. Looking at you with her puppy eyes, you couldn’t say no to the girl.

Looking out for Dina and Jesse you weren’t able to find them. Huh she bugged you about being there on time but she herself wasn’t even here yet. Looking around you saw Ellie standing at the bar. You stared at her for a while.

Suddenly she looked your way, catching you staring at her she started smirking, rolling your eyes at her.

She waved at you to come over. You’d rather have Dina and Jesse be there as well, not trusting yourself to be around the girl without anyone around but you didn’t wanted to be alone so you walked over to her.

“Hey (y/n), if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were just checking me out from over there, that’s kinda creepy.” Ellie said with a teasing smile. Leaning against the bar.

Feeling embarrassed now you rolled your eyes.

“You wish, Williams.” You said sitting down on the bar stool next to her.

“What if I do?” She asked you, smirking.

“I- um.” Not knowing what to say you quickly changed the subject. “I need a drink.”

“I’ll get you something, wait here.” She left you alone.

“Alright, thanks I guess.”

Coming back she gave you the drink. Taking it from her hand your fingers touched for a second, avoiding her eyes you took a sip of the drink. Almost coughing at the taste, Ellie laughed at you.

“You never had whiskey did you?” She asked.

Shaking your head “you?” You asked curiously.

“Yeah.” Nodding at her words, you looked around.

Sitting in silence for a while, you watched all the couples dance. Feeling Ellie’s eyes on you the whole time. You glanced at her, noticing that her glass is empty, you figured it’d be a good opportunity to get away from her for a second.

“Should I get you a new one?” You asked her. “A drink I mean.”

“Uh sure.” She gave you her glass, you walked towards the bartender guy. Ellie had a chance to admire you from the side.

Waiting for the bartender to bring you your drinks, you saw someone heading your way from the side, turning to look who it was you saw it was Joel.

“Hey kid.” He pulled you in for a hug. He always gave the best hugs, they were always warm and safe.

“Hi Joel.” Smiling at him.

“I see you and Ellie are alone tonight.” He looked towards Ellie, who was taking a seat at one of the smaller tables, waiting for you.

“I- yeah. We are waiting for Dina and Jesse.”

“I’m afraid they’re not coming tonight. Haven’t they told you?” He asked.

“What? But I- they told us they’d be here.” You said confused. Why would they tell you come here if they weren’t even here.

“I talked to Jesse today, he said him and Dina are having a date tonight.” Joel said.

“Oh well, I didn’t know.” You laughed. Great now you it was just you and Ellie.

The bartender brought you your drinks, putting them in front of you hitting you with the smell of whiskey, you gave Joel a cheeky smile.

He put a hand on your shoulder, “drink responsibly kid, and take care of Ellie.” He said.

“Yes of course, I promise.”

“Alright, well go on and have fun.”

“Alright you too Joel, I’ll see you.” You smiled at him taking the drinks in both hands you walked over to Ellie. Setting them down on the table you sat down next to Ellie.

“Well it seems like our friends have ditched us.” You said annoyed.

“What?” Ellie furrowed her eyebrows at that.

“Yeah Joel said they have a date night.”

“Great.” Ellie suddenly felt nervous. Being alone with you would surely end bad, she was scared that she’d accidentally confess her stupid crush on you or something.

“I know we’re not friends or whatever but I feel like getting a few drinks, what about you?” You asked. Ellie hated that you didn’t even see her as a friend but you usually avoided her like the plague and you’d never ask her to hang out with you, a year ago you’d just leave if none of your friends were here but Ellie guessed you must’ve warmed up to her a little if you asked her to keep you company.

“Yeah sure.”

Throughout the whole night you and Ellie bickered about every little thing, sarcastically replying to everything the other would say. You definitely wouldn’t be friends anytime soon but you two did kind of enjoy this night.

You were currently walking home side by side. Having a discussion about weapons. Arriving in front of your home, you talked for a few more minutes, fighting on which weapon is the better choice, in any situation.

“Alright, whatever Williams you’re right, I’m wrong.” You said, rolling your eyes at the girl. Walking backwards to your door.

“You know I’m right (y/n)!” Ellie said teasing you.

“Go home Williams!”

“Yes ma’am.” Ellie grumbled, turning around she started to walk back home.

Ellie thought about this night. It was the first time you willingly spent time alone with her. She enjoyed it even if you were still your usual sarcastic self, she still enjoyed it. Hoping to see more of you, without having the rest of your friends around. She liked to be alone with you, not that she would admit it to anyone.

[slowpoke-fics]

Hidden Hunter

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Crowley x Reader

Summary: Crowley is your best friend, has been for years and taught you a lot of what you know. However, you aren't associated with the boys.

Warnings: mention of injury and stitches, slow burn, hint at death, I could be missing some, I am not perfect please read at your own risk

A/N: I loved this fic, I hope you guys do too! Oh! And a favor I ask of you. The more I write the more I worry about warnings. If you ever see anything I write not have a warning it should, please tell me.

You pulled into your motel, harshly parking your car and storming into your room. Muttering to yourself as you slid your shirt off, door barely slamming shut, "Stupid motherfuckers couldn't just listen. Couldn't just-" you let out a guttural scream, "I tried. I tried." You shook your head, unbuttoning your pants as you heard Crowley behind you, "Hello, Mouse." You slipped your pants off, turning to look at Crowley, not missing the way his eyes studied the curves of your body. "Hey, Crowley."

Crowley took in your ragged and bloody appearance. Dried blood scattered throughout your hair, on your arms, tiny nicks and cuts over your body with a nasty gash on your torso. Crowley's eyebrows raised and he spoke as you went into the bathroom turning on the shower, "I guess they didn't take the deal?" You poked your head out of the bathroom, glaring at him, "No, they didn't captain obvious." Crowley laughed, sitting on the bed as you took a quick shower.

You ran your fingers through your hair, trying to get the blood out without stretching too far so you didn't irritate the gash on your stomach. You stepped out of the shower, washing all of the grime off of you made you feel a little better. "I hate hunting," you muttered to Crowley as you walked out of the bathroom, hair draped over your neck and a towel wrapped tightly around you. "Would you please get me a pair of shorts, a tank top and a pair of underwear out of my bag?" Crowley smiled at you, already on his way to your bag, "Of course, love."

You stood there looking at Crowley as he ruffled through your bag. His suit clinging to all the right spots, curling around his biceps, tight around his thighs, unfortunately his ass covered by the length of his jacket, shoes nicely completing his look.

You'd met Crowley a few years back, when he was a lowly cross roads demon. You went to make a deal, planning to exchange your soul for the ability to track supernatural creatures so you could save them. Crowley took an interest in why you wanted to do such things. Realizing that you were a hunter that wanted to stop the deaths before they happen was important to you. Stop the needless death of humans and monsters alike.

You'd become close to him, allowing him to teach you the ways of the natural witch. After about a year you had learned enough that Crowley needed to come up with some other reason to stick around. So he started to offer his help with no strings attached as he took a liking to his little mouse. The hunter who only hunted those who hunt.

Crowley handed you the clothing, politely turning around before you dropped your towel. You slid your underwear on, groaning as you did so, causing Crowley too start to turn around. He stopped himself, asking permission first, "Let me help, yeah mouse?" You giggled, covering your boobs and huffing, "Yeah okay."

Crowley turned around, helping you step into the shorts and pulling them up, he handed you the towel to properly cover yourself on his way up. What a gentleman, you thought as he went over to your bag, digging out the emergency kit. "Lay, you need stitches," Crowley pointed to bed. You grumbled, he knew you didn't like stitches, "It's not even that bad, it's fine." Crowley glared at you, "Love, if you don't stitch that it's gonna take months to heal and likely get infected."

You laughed, laying down, "I could always just use a spell." Crowley shook his head, his playfulness with his best friend suddenly gone, "We've discussed that Y/n, it's not the kind of magic you want too mess around with." You put his hand on his arm, as he wet the rag he had with alcohol, in an attempt to comfort him, "I was just kidding, I know."

Crowley started cleaning the gash, making sure that you had gotten all the debris out. You hissed at him, you could see how curious he was, but you'd made a rule that he doesn't press hard unless it's bad. "So," you croaked out as he started stitching you, "what'd you do today?" Crowley smiled at you, secretly bashing you because if you'd just listen to him and find partners it wouldn't be like this.

"Well, I saw moose and squirrel-" You lifted your head, excited, "Sam and Dean?" He nodded, "Yes the royal pains in my ass. They were having trouble tracking some witch-" You giggled, "I could've helped them instead." Crowley tries to hide his genuine concern by joking, "Oh no doll, I don't think we'll be doing that." You furrowed your brows, "I still think we'd make a good team."

"Mouse, I don't ask for much," Crowley sighed, "if you want partners, I can find plenty of hunters that are not Winchesters." Crowley put gauze over your stitches, carefully pressing tape to hold them in place. You sat up, Crowley turning around to let you slip your tank top on, "Decent," he turned back around, "what is your problem? I never like other people enough to let them join me, but when I hear about someone you say no?"

Crowley sighed, "They're dangerous people, Y/n. I've told you I don't want you near them." You stared at him, "I just don't understand, you always tell me they're dangerous and I can't go near them but nothing else!" You stood up, starting to pace. "They're-huff-" Crowley looked away from you, closing his eyes tightly as they flashed with anger, "they'll do nothing but destroy you." With that Crowley was gone. You were used to your arguments ending like that, even your conversations. He would get called away and come back when he wasn't busy and that was fine, but you were going to look into the Winchesters while you had the chance.

You pulled out a map of the United States, channeling through your pendulum Crowley had hand made for you. You smiled, looking at the chain on one end a sharp pointed crystal rested, on the there a tiny little metal mouse, identifying it as yours, the only one on the planet like it. You took a deep breath, circling the crystal over the map focusing your energy on the image of the Winchester brothers. After a few minutes of scrying and finding nothing you decided to leave it for now, starting to pack up your things you began thinking about what was so bad about the Winchester brothers. Why did Crowley want you to stay away?

You didn't really know much about them aside from the little Crowley'd told you because you didn't really associate with other hunters. At the end of the day, you hated most of them. Hunters in general were crass, and you hated that. You are a ray of sunshine trying to preserve life and most hunters see something not human and kill it. That didn't sit right with you.

You thought about the things you did know about the brothers. They had been in this life their whole life. Had lost both parents, almost ended the world a couples times, saved it just as much if not more. Only really had each other, but Crowley had mentioned an angel on their shoulder-Castiel I believe? What did you even know about him?

"I don't believe I know you?" Your entire body went cold, turning as fast as you can to aim a gun in between his eyes. "That will do little damage to me," he spoke flatly. "I beg to differ, these here special made bullets to put your ass in back in hell, so tell me? What're you doing here?" The man is staring at you, confusion in his brows, arms by the edges of his trench coat, pants and shirt tidy, but not perfect, "I am Castiel, an angel of the lord. You called to me." Before you could even think of a response, Crowley was standing next to you. Eyes holding fear, not ager, he speaks lowly, a whisper under his breath.

"What have you done little mouse?"

You lowered your gun, not sure if it was because it wouldn't do damage or because you felt safe with Crowley there. "I didn't call to anybody," you stare at Castiel, eyes boring into his as he speaks. "I beg to differ, I felt you, heard you, you seem to also need dealings with the Winchesters?" He looked to Crowley who he'd just seen not hours ago, "I am slightly concerned with Crowley being here." Crowley scoffed, "I haven't tried anything on the musketeers in years, I've been nothing but a friend and Y/n here was too curious for her own good." He growled out the end looking directly towards you, causing a rush guilt for going behind Crowleys back.

"I didn't mean to take you away from the Winchesters-" "You did not. I am a man of many abilities, helping people is one of them. At least allow me to heal you." You backed away as he stepped forward, "I am not going to hurt you." Crowley put his hand on your arm, trying to reassure you, "Well do it then Feathers, but uh-" Castiel healed you, you felt warmth, pain dissolving from your body, "can we keep her to ourselves?" Your eyes raised at Crowley, appalled by his gumption to hide you.

"Excuse me?" You jerked away from Crowley, Castiel raising his eyebrows at you. "Is that what you would like Y/n?" You looked at Crowley, his face a mix of anger and concern. "Can we? I promise I won't bother you." Castiel smiles at you, secretly reading you, "You wouldn't be a bother but I understand. I am happy to have healed you." Castiel was gone, Crowley already starting to pick your bags up. "We're gone now mouse."

He grabbed you, whisking you away. You looked around, taking in the room you were standing in. It was clearly an apartment, a nicer than you'd ever known anyone to have. You looked around, a sleek kitchen area, the bathroom door opened from the living room, the couch took up most of the living room, a nice coffee table in front of it but pressed to the wall.

"Crowley where are we?" He was glaring at you, a sour look on his face, "A safe house, I hoped we'd never have to use it." You shook your head, "Okay, but where? What about my car?" He shuffled on his feet, "In a few days when I know Castiel didn't spill the beans about you I will take you back to it." Crowley chuckled a little, but not answering as he reached out your bags for you to take. You huffed, taking your bags from him, and then he disappeared.

You walked over to the refrigerator, to your surprise it was stocked. Demons don't need to eat, you thought to yourself, a little confused and trying to figure out where you were, you moved to the window. You looked out and you couldn't have been but three stories up, but no markers as to your city or state. The bathroom was also stocked shampoo, conditioner, soap, toilet paper, toothbrush and toothpaste?

Crowley reappeared, holding the rest of your things and your gun. You took it from him, anger over your features. "Crowley, are we in someone's apartment right now? You know how I feel about how you taking over peoples lives!" Crowley scoffed at you, "You know I respect you too much to violate your beliefs like that!" You rolled your eyes, tucking your gun behind your waistband, "Then who's apartment is this?"

Crowley made his was over to the cabinet, pulling out a bottle of liquor he conveniently knew where to find, "Technically yours. Like I said it's a safe house." You tapped the counter, letting him know you wanted a glass as you sat down, "Gonna have to do better than that." He poured your glass first, shrugging he started, "I pay for it, it's under a fake name, it's warded so you can't be found, do we need to get into logistics?" You downed your glass, picking up the bottle and filling up again, "You brought me here after I met Castiel, that's not exactly safe house worthy." Crowley shook his head, sipping on his own glass, "Yes it is cricket, yet it is." Your blood started to boil, you stood from your chair, seething with anger, you spit, "Crowley, if you don't stop acting like-"

"Like what? Like someone who wants to keep you alive?" You flinched at Crowleys words, waiting for him to continue, "Everyone that they're around dies, Y/n, dies. Hunter funeral, pile of ash, dies. Everyone but them; they will destroy you." You scoffed, "I'm pretty good at keeping myself alive thank you." He raises his eyebrows, smirking a bit, "Do you forget how we met mouse?" Your eyes connected with his, glaring, still seething with anger, "I was desperate not dead, there's a difference. Crowley, they can't be doing more damage than me hunting on my own. Maybe I could be a voice of reason-" Crowley slammed his glass down, grabbing the counter with both hands, "No! I don't know why you even want to know them!"

You studied Crowley, jealousy now seeping from him. Then it clicked. It clicked that you two were a bunch of shy kids. Bouncing around each other like you were fifteen for years now. Each thinking the other was uninterested, each thinking that you didn't deserve one another. Crowley rightfully so for a while, the things he did outside of you could be classified as horrendous, but your ray of sunshine had spread to him. Bringing out all of the good parts that once was Fergus Roderick MacLeod, reminding him of who he could be. You reminded him how to love, how to hold someone higher than yourself. Reminded him of what it's like to protect someone other than yourself, to need to.

"Crowley," you walked around the table and placed your hand on his, "please just tell me what's going on." Crowley didn't hesitate, he turned to you pressing his lips into yours. It took you a second to realize what was happening, and then you melted. You moved your arms around his neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss, his stubble tickling you. Crowley tangled his fingers in your hair, taking a deep breath as he readjusted to meet your lips, tongue skirting your bottom lip before nibbling on it. You gasped at the action, the sound taking Crowley by surprise as he continued to glide across your lips, not missing the warm blush on your face.

Crowley was first to pull away, sliding his hand out of your hair and tucking it behind your ear, resting his hand there, he whispered, "I can't lose you." You planted a chaste kiss on his lips, smiling at him reassuringly, "You won't." He softened a little bit, sighing heavily before returning his lips to yours. Soft and gentle, savoring the moment as he tugged you closer to him with his arm around your waist. You pulled just an inch away, Crowleys eyes opening and making contact with yours, "Does this mean I get to meet the Winchesters?" Crowley growled at you, quickly lifting you by your thighs causing your to wrap your legs around him, "Absolutely not."

[pretend-writer]

Better Than Revenge (Hargreeves x sibling!reader)

Summary: Y/N’s boyfriend broke up with her unexpectedly and the Hargreeves goes and finds out the truth. 

Pairing: Hargreeves x sibling!reader

Title Reference: Better Than Revenge x Taylor Swift

Word Count: 2.1k words

Warning: swearing, violence

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It was all so sudden, I thought that me and him were alright. We've just got back from a trip couple of days ago, taking cute couple pictures and posting it on social media.

Every night, he told me that he loved me and he would never let me go. It took us hours to even hop out of the hotel bed because he would want to cuddle with me all morning. All the love he shared that I thought was genuine didn't mean anything to him.

Was a blind? Was I too naive? Should I have known me and him were in a fake relationship this whole time? Did I waste a year and a half of my life thinking that he loved me? I didn't know what was real anymore.

The only truth that came out of this was that my boyfriend and I were over with. Everything else was a blur.

'Y/N?' Allison tapped me on my shoulder. 'Are you coming inside?'

I've been in my head all day since I got the breakup text from my boyfriend, I totally forgot that I was outside sitting next to Ben's memorial statue.

As I continued to stare at the ground, I shook my head. 'No, thanks.'

'It's about to rain, you should come inside.' Allison still sat beside me even with the complicated weather outside, concerned as she knew something was wrong with her sister. 'What's wrong?'

'You know the best days of my life was supposed to be this trip with my boyfriend?' I slightly chuckled, feeling stupid about myself as I said those words at loud. 'Turns out I was wrong.'

'What did John do?'

I bit my lips and sighed; I couldn't even blame him really. 'It's all my fault. For believing that this was all true, for thinking that he was happy with the relationship. I'm so fucking stupid.'

'What did he say to you?'

'He said enough.'

Allison quickly stood up and left my side. 'I'll be inside, come join me soon okay?'

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Allison POV; 

The things that Y/N said hit a nerve. I already knew something was not right with the relationship. There was always something off with John but I figured if Y/N trusted him, I should too.

I've should've trusted my guts.

It was one thing to hurt my sister's feelings but to make Y/N sad to a point where she sat in the rain made me very upset and angry.

Y/N was the cheeriest one out of the bunch, constantly making us smile when we're down. Her smile was how we all got through the day, especially during our childhood with our so-called father.

It always took a lot for her to get mad or upset about anything. This already proved that John had something to hide and I would do anything to find out what was going on with his life.

I didn't want to leave Y/N alone under the dark, gray clouds but she seemed as though she was not going anywhere at all. I gave a kiss on the top of head before I walked back into the building.

'What's wrong with her?' Diego peeked through the window, watching Y/N leaning next to Ben's statue.

'John broke up with her and I'm going to find out exactly why.' I flared my nose, infuriated about this situation between my sister and her ex-boyfriend.

Diego furrowed his eyebrows, confused about everything. 'W-wait, John and her broke up? Didn't they just come back from their cute little trip?'

'He's a fucking liar is what it is. I swe-'

'Allison, are you sure he's a prick?' Diego tried to be civil which I completely understood but something about my instincts told me otherwise. 'We have zero proof of why this man broke up with Y/N.'

'That's what I'm trying to find out. I just don't trust him. It doesn't make any sense at all.' I rolled my eyes, taking a deep breath. 'You can watch Y/N while I go do some digging.'

Diego chuckled, 'Are you kidding me? I'm coming with you. Let's expose this man.'

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Diego POV;

Luther, Vanya and Five were left with Y/N at home to make sure she was comfortable and feeling better. We also had to be extra careful about Y/N finding out about us stalking her old boyfriend.

If Y/N even got a hint about me, Klaus and Allison's whereabouts, her emotions will get the best of her and she will not hesitate to use her ultrasonic scream to try to get to us.

Y/N was the most level headed out of all the Hargreeves but her number one pet peeve was people digging through private lives. Her finding out the truth especially in the fragile state she was in would ruin us.

And seeing her hatred towards paparazzi and the way she fought them off on her off days as Number Eight, I would never want to be Y/N's enemy.

Which was why Allison, Klaus and I, the mouthy triggering siblings had to leave the house. Klaus and I privately argued that Five should've been with us but with his smart mouth, we knew he was going to use his "genius brain" as an excuse to stay and distract Y/N.

Klaus didn't like that, given the fact that Y/N and him were tight like glue. But everyone knew that Klaus was the number one person that needed to leave the house.

'Why can't I stay with Y/N?' Klaus whined, 'You know I suck at these investigating type missions. I could be a great caregiver to our sweet sister. I would give her some warm tea-'

'We haven't even pulled over to John's house and you're already running your mouth. That's why.' I turned around toward Klaus who was laying down in the back of the car as Allison drove my car. 'You'd be the first one to tell Y/N our secret and we can't risk that, dude.'

Allison looked at our brother from the mirror, smiling. 'Don't worry Klaus, she will be fine. I promise.'

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Klaus POV;

The car suddenly stopped moving, Allison and Diego unbuckled their seatbelts. Ben, who was squished to the side where my legs rested rolled his eyes. 'You could've saved me some space for me to sit.'

'You're a ghost, why does it matter?' I replied back to him, I didn't think that he'd cramp up while I laid down in the back. 'Besides, my legs were on your lap so you should be fine.'

'Who are you talking to?' Diego asked me as he watched me get out of the car.

'Nobody.'

Ben yelled, just like he always does whenever I claim that I talk to myself. He had to realize we were here for Y/N, Ben can have his moment to shine some other time.

Diego, Ben and I followed Allison into John's house. Y/N used to bring Allison and I here often to hang out with John, we knew where he hid his spare key.

'Let's split up and look for some clues. It's got to be in here somewhere.' Allison mumbled, walking upstairs.

'Psst, Klaus!' Diego pointed behind him, 'You want to partner up? Maybe if we do it together it'll be faster.'

'Why are you whispering? The man isn't even here.' I chuckled at my brother, 'I think working together would take more time.'

Diego hissed, 'Fine! Be that way and go with your imaginary friend.'

'Why are you so upset? You really love me, don't you Diego?'

He pulled out his knife, looking at me intensely without saying any word. I knew Diego was sensitive but I didn't think that would trigger him to throw a knife at my face.

'I'm sorr-' before I was able to finish my apology, Diego struck his knife next to my head, hearing a loud groan from behind.

'Allison! I got him!' Diego shouted as he quickly got up and ran past me. I turned around and saw John lying on the ground, holding his shoulder in pain.

'What are you crazy fuckers doing here.' John winched.

Diego pulled the knife out of him, wiping the blood off with John's shirt before he put it back on his harness. 'Given the circumstances, I do not appreciate your tone dude.'

'See, I knew you Hargreeves were crazy. I don't know how I put up with you and your sister for nearly two years.'

'Now that's when you stop talking.' Diego stuck his finger into his knife wound, making John scream louder than he was before. 'I'm telling you, shut the fuck up before we do more harm.'

'Okay, okay!' John yelled, still grabbing onto his shoulder. All I could think about was how infected his shoulder was going to be after all this mess.

As I stared at John's wound, I went back to thinking about my poor sister. 'Why did you break up with Y/N?'

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Y/N’s POV; 

'Rock, paper, scissors, shoot.' Luther and Vanya said in sync. They have been at it for about an hour now, I've never seen two human beings intrigued in this boring game before.

Five just stared at them with an angry face like always, all he has been doing was mumbling to himself and complaining about something I couldn't hear from here.

'What are you guys doing exactly?' I questioned my brothers and sister that has been in the living room with me for over an hour doing nothing.

At first it was odd that they were sitting with me, quiet and not saying a word but I didn't question anything. Now it was weird of them to be here as if they were keeping an eye on me.

'Just keeping you company.' Luther grinned, 'Do you need anything?'

'No, thanks.' I gave him a soft smile, asking an additional question. 'Did Allison say anything to you guys?'

I was in such an emotional state, I blurted the end of my relationship to Allison without thinking of anything. What happened between me and John was over, clearly over and if he wanted that I couldn't say no.

Knowing how overprotective Allison can get of me, I was worried what trouble she got herself into. I hoped she wasn't doing what I thought she might be doing.

'Nope, nothing.' Five, Luther and Vanya all said in the same tone.

'Y/N!' I heard Klaus screaming from the front door, rushing inside to come see me. 'He's a fucking dickhead!'

'Who?' I asked Klaus as he was trying to catch a breath, leaning into the couch to rest.

'Your fucking boyfriend, that's who.' Diego walked in right behind Klaus, anger flushed all over his face.

Allison rolled her eyes, hitting Diego's shoulder while standing next to him. 'You don't have to say it like that, geez.'

'What did you guys find at his house?' Luther asked.

'At his hou-' I looked at the three of them, confused. 'What did you guys do?'

'While Vanya, Luther and I were here distracting you Klaus, Allison and Diego went to John's house to find clues as to why he broke up with you.' Five summarized, with a big smirk on his face.

My eye shifted towards Allison, slowly shaking my head. 'You know how I feel about this.'

'Hear me out, okay? He-'

Diego cut Allison off, 'He had a ultrasound picture in his hand Y/N. John is a fucking asshole and I was so close to punchin-'

'He what?' Luther yelled, immediately standing up and towering over everybody. 'Where is he right now?'

'Laying down on his living room floor because Diego threw a knife through his shoulder.' Klaus added.

'Y/N, I'm so sorry okay? But I had to go see for myself and you being sad is the last thing I want to see.' Allison took a step closer to me. 'You we're blaming yourself about this breakup and I didn't want you to do that. That's why I went.'

There were no words left to say; I felt angry, sad, disappointed that my boyfriend of almost two years had a different girl the whole time. John was even about to have a family with some other woman.

I clenched my first as I thought about John, the more flashbacks I had of our "happy times" the angrier I got.

My siblings started to notice the change of my expressions. Klaus' eyes widened, 'Are you okay Y/N?'

'Come on guys, let's go get him.' I took my jacket from the couch, quickly putting them on as I walked towards the front door. All my siblings started to cheer as they walked next to me, Diego and Klaus hugging me from each side.

'Let's get this son of a bitch!' Diego screamed with his fist in the air.

[zodiyack]

Love Reunited (Love On The Run - Part Two)

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x Female!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, angst reader has a bad bitch moment, fluff, threats + mentions of murder, no proofreading

Words: 2,114

Summary: In the heat of the moment, Y/n says something that pissed Klaus off. Elijah does the only thing he can and tells his wife to run for her life. | The only thing standing between Klaus and forgiveness from his older brother is Y/n and her freedom.

Taglist: @matth1w​, @redspaceace-writes​, @fandom-puff​, @darling-i-read-it​, @dpaccione​, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow​, @simonsbluee​

Masterlist | The Originals Masterlist

Part One.

Ever since Klaus’ resentment for Y/n, and the sworn death sentence he’d given her, chased her out of New Orleans and into constant relocation just to be safe in hiding from her husband’s brother, Elijah had developed a new feeling. He began to loathe his little brother. Though he’d claimed to have detested his brother many times before, this time was different. Even so, that wasn’t the only thing different about this time. 

This time, Klaus knew he was fucked.

He’d cried for forgiveness over the past few years, yet Elijah ignored him every single time. One of the, scarcely occurring, times he actually spoke to Klaus about his apology, he’d brought up the situation with Y/n, quoting the hybrid word for word.

“You did say, ‘live with Elijah’s hate,’ did you not? So, why can you not just live with the burden of the reality that I in fact do, and will always, abhor you, Niklaus? Or are you just so diabolical, so selfish. that you merely cannot fathom losing the one person whom has vowed to stay by your side, always and forever? The one person who can tolerate you.”

“Elijah- ple-”

“So long as my wife is on the run from you, running quite literally for her life, you will never be reprieved.” Everyone who knew Elijah knew that he always kept his word. “I give you my word on that.” Always.

“Please, brother! I’ll do anything for your forgiveness-” He was genuine. As Klaus begged, practically on his knees with tears stinging his eyes, he was a hundred percent genuine.

Elijah turned his head, finally facing his brother with full attention and interest for the first time in a painful handful of years. “Free Y/n.”

“W-what?”

“Free my lover from this condemnation you have unjustly sentenced her to and allow her to walk away from your grudge without harm and without the risk of you creating blackmail material of her actions that you have unreasonably deemed intolerable.”

“Anything else?” He was only kidding, but Elijah wasn’t.

“You’ll have to collect her from whatever location she’s at currently. And please Niklaus, do so without any violence on your behalf.”

He chuckled for a second. Then his smug, carefree, expression morphed into one of uneasy guilt. “You’re...serious?” Elijah held his stern manner. Klaus took his lack of response as a yes and sighed, “Alright. Consider her free.” then he turned to go hunt for Y/n and earn his brother’s pardon.

“If you lay a hand on her,” Klaus halted in his tracks, eyes darting to the side as though he could see his brother clearly despite Elijah being directly behind him, “be it a hair pulled from her head or even a tiny meaningless spiteful threat, there will be splinters for you to pull out of your skin for years. And though it will not permanently kill you, I shall drive stake upon stake through your chest and never feel remorse for any part of it.”

Klaus almost wanted to scoff, laugh it off and tell Elijah he’d never actually do that but a part of him wondered if he really would. If his own brother would end his life for anything done to Y/n. Deep down, he knew Elijah would have a rage that would overflow and cause terror and destruction in it’s wake.

He knew the wood couldn’t kill him. He’d do it over and over again, for the next centuries to come, and the centuries after those have passed, the cycle never ending. A never ending cycle of a living hell. And a hell that he knew would be well deserved for it would only come to such a punishment if he did anything to hurt the love of his brother’s life. An easy mistake to avoid ...if your name wasn’t Niklaus.

“Understand?”

Klaus wondered what happened to the old him; the merciless, blood thirsty, cruel and sinister hybrid, the one true immortal being, now showing mercy to, and retrieving, someone who’d crossed multiple lines in his eyes. Whilst she did have a point, he chose never to say so. He chose to ignore all attempts to draw the light in him into the world. He chose to ignore all pleas for his goodness in fear of his softness- his weakness getting the people he loved hurt.

But it was time to push past that, for if he didn’t, there wouldn’t be any people for him to love.

He swallowed and redirected his narrowed eyes to the door. His jaw clenched and his breathing became uneven. “Understood, brother.”

Niklaus was a stubborn man, and he knew it. But he would do anything, very close to literally anything, to gain his family back. To atone for his mistakes over hundreds of decades. To plea for redemption from their bad sides. And although Elijah would forgive him with simply letting Y/n return to his arms once more, Niklaus new his pleading wasn’t quite over yet.

Y/n wouldn’t just forgive him so easily. She wouldn’t, and because he knew that, he wasn’t surprised when she narrowed her eyes at him and furrowed her brows before releasing an avalanche of years, years of which felt horribly elongated, of pent up rage upon him instantaneously without any form of hesitation.

He found her with the help of witches, and quite easily seeing as moving from place to place as quickly as possible would require avoiding any type of relationships with everyone. She didn’t have anyone to preform a cloaking spell, but she did have great strength as a back-up strategy.

A note, placed by the barkeep, was subtly dropped in front of her, the words written in blue by the pen he’d snatched from a barmaid’s apron as she walked past. Two little words sparked her curiosity almost immediately. Her head snapped up and turned left and right, looking for who the mysterious messenger, whom she hoped was Elijah. Much to her disappointment, the person who suddenly placed a hand on her shoulder was a different Mikaelson.

Y/n grabbed his hand and flung it off of herself harshly. “You?”

“Don’t sound so disgruntled, love, I am here to collect you after all.”

“No. I won’t be going anywhere with you.”  Venom entwined her words as she referenced him. She clenched her jaw and swiftly turned to face the bar again. The scrunched up napkin was thrown over her shoulder. He opened it, “come home” sprawled messily across the soft material.

Klaus felt the anger wash over him but promptly remembered Elijah’s words. He calmed himself with a few deep breaths before clearing his throat and trying again. “I’m afraid I can’t take no as an answer.”

“And I’m afraid I would rather stake myself than go literally any place on this green fucking earth with you.” Y/n spat through her teeth.

Her blatantly obvious execrating feelings for him amused Klaus, a small grin appearing on his lips as he tilted his head. “Do you even know where I’m taking you?”

“To hell, most likely.”

Klaus, unsurprisingly, had a snarky retort ready on his tongue, but she was already out the door and taking a sneaky head start for her run to the farthest place from Niklaus possible. He was on her tail within seconds and cornered her in the woods. A smug leer, not uncommon to see upon his features, promptly slid onto his face.

“What the hell do you want, besides to kill me?”

“You to come with me.”

Y/n paused, as if she were considering his demand, then rolled her eyes. She tried to step around him, “Like that’ll do me any good-”

“It will.” Klaus stepped in front of her, blocking her way once more. “C’mon. From here on out, your sentence is over, you can return to New Orleans-”

“And how do I know you mean the words you speak? How do I know you shall stay true to whatever comes from your mouth?”

“You know me, I-”

“You’re quite correct, Klaus. I know you. I know that you are not infamous for nothing. You lie, deceive, torture, humiliate and do so many other things to people underserving of your cruelty! How should I forgive you when you have yet to adhere for the hurt you’ve infected innocents with?”

His gaze dropped, guilt creeping over his face. He knew what he did to those people.

“Do you even feel bad for what you’ve done?”

Not really. Not all the time. Hardly ever at all if he were to be honest.

“Do you feel the need to morn those you have wrongfully sentenced to death? Those you have sent to the deepest pits of hell based on erroneous judgement?”

She came for his throat, each fact that was spat from her mouth verbatim.

“You are callous and you are heinous! You wonder why your siblings hate you, and yet you constantly do vile things to people! You have erroneously punished people over and over again. You swear you will change, many times, and they believe you but then the next thing they know, they’re in a box for a couple decades. And you think they need to plead for absolution?”

Hundreds of years spent seething in hostility for her brother in law, all ranted in this one moment hit Klaus like a bus, taking the air from his lungs and sending a feeling deep into his gut like someone had just swung a baseball bat into his stomach a dozen times. But she wasn’t finished yet.

“You want to ask for my exoneration? Well you have years, and I mean fucking years, to make up for.” She laughed sarcastically. “To absolve you from everything you’ve put me through, everything you’ve taken from me, everything I’ve fucking missed because of you- to absolve you from all of that would take many years of penitence and work to fix what you have done. Are you really prepared to do that? Are you, Niklaus fucking Mikaelson, ready to take a lengthy withdrawal from your wicked and corruptive reign of evil to earn my remission?”

He hated the fact that she teased him for it, rubbed it in his face, but he knew he deserved it. Klaus knew he deserved every harsh and bitter word she spat at him. He had a thousand of years of blood on his hands, the true number of all the lives he’d snuffed out still paling in comparison to the amount of power that radiated from Y/n, the amount of guilt and remorse she’d forced onto his shoulders with simple words.

“You are no fucking king,” she sneered, “at least, not compared to me.”

Silence made the air heavy with tension as the minutes passed by. Then, she sighed heavily and spoke, slicing the thick tension with an imaginary blade. “I will go with you,” he looked to her with relief, “but I meant every word I said. You will have to work to ensure your vindication. And it will not be an easy task.”

“I understand.” Klaus bowed his head, submitting to her and trading in his crown to prove his worthiness of her forgiveness.

She happily accepted it.

“Y/n?” He couldn’t believe his eyes. Last he’d checked, he hadn’t been bitten by a werewolf or hybrid, nor had he inhaled or consumed any witchy substances that would make him hallucinate. He didn’t pray much, but in his head, his thoughts muttered over and over, “please be real.”

“Elijah!” Her eyes lit up the second they met his form. She surged forward, lips colliding with Elijah’s for the first time in years. He wrapped his arms around her and twirled her round.

The world faded to an irrelevant blur. It felt amazing to be home, to be in his arms once more, to be free of Klaus’ ridiculous furry, free of the ill intentions previously directed towards her. Minutes had went by and yet, neither of the two noticed a single thing.

Years that had passed by soon drifted away, like they weren’t apart for any of it. Like time had hit pause when she’d left his arms and resumed when she returned to them. It felt as though time froze whilst the two embraced. The moment could’ve lasted an eternity had Klaus not cleared his throat to announce his presence.

“So uh...brother...have I earned your forgiveness?”

“I suppose you have.”

“And Y/n? Have I made progress on clearing my name with you?”

She made eye contact with Elijah, exchanging a small grin before returning her eyes to Klaus and nodding slightly. “You’ve got a ways to go, but you’re off to a great start. Thank you, Klaus.”

[orangechickenpillow]

Heyo, it’s me, back again to psychoanalyze a film that I have seen way too many times to only have heard of last week. This may be a long one, so buckle up my friends. 

So, I know there’s been some speculation around whether or not Ezra was going to give Cee over to those people that they came across (the ones who needed a “Mother”), and I wanted to give my two cents. 

He wasn’t. 

Why do I believe this? Well, let me explain. 

When the man gives them his offer “for the girl,” Ezra does something that he hasn’t really done much, up until this point in the film. He let’s himself slip. Ezra is a man who wears a mask -- it is the thing that saves his life in The Green. He likes to talk, and he is also known for keeping up a friendly façade, even when his life in in danger (see: the whole situation with Damon at the beginning). At this point in the film, Ezra’s life in literally in the hands of these strangers and the first aid they are willing (or not willing) to provide. So how he choses to bargain with them, specifically in an overly friendly and relaxed manner, is a crucial part in his survival. 

But when they say they want to buy Cee, his response is curt and quiet. “That’s a bold offer,” he says, and for just a moment, he sounds angry. This is a man who puts high value on the way others perceive him, as it has literally saved his life. But in this moment, he can’t keep his friendly, charming mask up because of what the stranger just implied. He even looks angry

(I feel like in this second image his internal dialogue is something along the lines of “you’re lucky I’m nearly dead, otherwise I’d snap your spine right this moment, good sir”)

I feel like this is the most honest reaction we could get from Ezra, all things considered. It’s not completely transparent, but, for a moment, he unintentionally risked his carefully planned façade because of what the man was suggesting. 

Next, Ezra asks what they “need her for.” To me, this implies the fact that he actually cares what happens to Cee. He is a cold, calculating murder, as we saw by the way he killed Damon without a second glance. He’s not that sentimental, as we saw by the nonchalant, almost bored way he checked to see if his ‘partner’ was alive. It would not be that out of character for him to simply trade Cee for medical supplies, telling himself that she’d be alive and taken care of and, ultimately, not his responsibility. But he asks what they want with her. He doesn’t just automatically say yes, which he very well could have,  and he doesn’t just think about it, he genuinely wants to know. 

And then of course, my badass girl Cee doesn’t give him the choice, and makes a run for it (atta girl!). 

Then comes the scene in the tent, when Ezra and Cee are reunited. This, to me, is a crucial moment in the argument that Ezra was not going to give her away. As we all know, Ezra is a man of many, many (many many many) words, and an unnecessarily (annoyingly?) large vocabulary. Just one example of this is the way he bargains with Cee at the beginning of the film, using lots of words and arguing points to get her to agree to his plan. 

But what does he say when she asks him if he was going to give her to them? A simple, quiet “No.” For someone who uses talking as a weapon, he sure doesn’t try that hard to convince her he’s telling the truth. (Not to mention the fact that he literally needs her cooperation and trust to survive, as if she doesn’t agree to remove his infected arm, he will die.) Which makes me think that it’s just that: the truth. 

Now I’m not saying he didn’t think about it -- I’m sure he did. But that’s the thing. His “no” is so solemn and resigned, almost as if he’s realizing that his whole ‘bad guy’ act has officially slipped. Or, on a more serious note: that he, someone who has had to do horrible things to survive The Green, was going to risk losing life-saving medical supplies for this orphan girl that he just met. 

When I first saw this scene, I read it as him maybe realizing that even if Cee hadn’t run (and therefore jeopardized any help that the strangers would have been willing to offer), things still would have turned out bad for him. Even if she hadn’t run, he still wouldn’t have gotten the help he needed because he wouldn’t have given her over. 

So, in conclusion to this pages long essay about something that doesn’t even matter, I just can’t see Ezra ever selling a little girl for medical supplies. Like, ever. He’s not a great guy -- not even a good one, really, but he’s not a monster, and I think he knows that. He knows there are lines he shouldn’t cross, and endangering a child might just be one of them. So when he told Cee that “no,” he wasn’t going to give her over to them, it just seems like he’s telling the truth. There are no fancy words, no long, lyrical sentences -- just a quiet, almost embarrassed “No” from our favorite space cowboy who also just so happens to have realized he is now a single father. 

Thank you for coming to my ted talk, holy shit I am so sorry if you read this whole thing. 

[why-this-kolaveri-machi]

we are our family, even if we don’t want to be.

Titans 3.07

a bit over halfway through the season, and we still don’t have all of our main characters on the board! i love this show.

as always, typing this up as i watch. live reaction, baby! *shadowboxes*

SPOILERS AHEAD

1. i don’t think i’ve mentioned this before, but i kinda miss the old ‘dc universe’ intro. it was cool! the whole idea of it was wild and waaaaay over-ambitious, but also very very on-brand because of it.

2. this is... the third time we’ve seen dick sleeping this season? that’s a record! checking another thing off my s3 wishlist...

2.5. i guess i rag on titans all the time for its wafer-thin plotting and bad pacing, but i have to admit that this season has been a step-up from the last one in this regard. titans has very reactive rather than proactive protagonists, and a lot of the last season seemed to be: x happened, the team reacted badly, then y happened, they reacted badly, etc. this time around, it’s not a huge leap up by any means, but at least they’re doing something about it. 

i do appreciate the focus on character arcs over everything else. and when i say everything else, i mean it: arcs that started two seasons ago with no big cathartic moments, intermittent payoff and multiple relapses. big bads have ranged from interdimensional demons to superpowered assassins to whatever in the world scarecrow is, but trigon’s big weapon against the titans was to... use their worst fears against them. slade’s was to... use their fears to break them up. crane’s is to... use red hood to use their fears to break them up. even the threat of gotham’s citizens being in danger doesn’t feel real: gotham is mythologised into an entity of its own, infecting our heroes like a parasite. like. this is not to say that most other superhero media aren’t big character arcs intertwined with the main plot, but titans doesn’t even make pretend that it’s anything but.

anyway. that’s my entry #2345 to ‘give a grand unifying theory for titans’. thanks. i’ll be back with more.

3. “anger is just fear in a little black dress.” god I HATE HIM

(what’s he doing with barbara’s likeness? oh... oh god. a terrible thought just occurred to me. what if they introduce hush at the very last minute for plastic surgery shenanigans? would you put it past this show?)

3.5. jason, nooooooooo

3.75. i mean, they’re making it very clear here that scarecrow is the one in control--the one who’s always been in control--and is manipulating jason and literally poisoning him, but i hope it doesn’t end up erasing nuance or jason’s autonomy. if jason’s to reckon with the issues that brought him here, then the lines of responsibility will need to be set somewhere. 

(this applies to dick as well but more on that later, i guess.)

4. just--the phrase “40% loss of income” is so funny to me. like, gotham is full of these larger-than-life characters who are idiosyncratic beyond belief, colourful and dramatic and creating chaos just for the sake of chaos, and then there’s the regular criminals and their henchmen who just want to make a quick buck sitting down with pie charts and graphs, griping about the joker reducing their returns or debating high risk investments in, i don’t know, two-face’s next scheme.

“yyyyeeeeeaaah, my financial advisor is telling me that going all-in with a guy who literally makes decisions on the flip of a coin is probably not the greatest idea.”

4.5. god i hate smug!smarmy!scarecrow so much

4.85. as big plans to “control” gotham go, it’s pretty bog-standard. clearly scarecrow has some bigger plan in mind but it really feels like we’ve got no clear insight into him and he’s this generic creepy mystery-man who knows more than he lets on and springs a twist/cliffhanger every now and then. i liked the scenes with him and dick in 3.04 where it seemed like he was genuinely on the backfoot and things weren’t going as he predicted. for all of his faults, dick is at least familiar with scarecrow’s bullshit and knows not to give what he wants.

5. i mean... i see where dick is coming from with the “he’s not jason anymore; he’s red hood” because his immediate glaring concern is scarecrow’s drug and the damage it could potentially cause gotham? i do not doubt that it’s something batman drilled into him, too, but when you’re expected to take point on a situation where the lives of an entire city weigh down on your shoulders, it’s better to simplify things and prioritise. i’m not saying it’s great or healthy! gar is absolutely right to consider this facet of the situation. it’s just dick can’t.

6. hmmmmmmm. HMMMMMMMMMMM. 

i don’t know that i’m super fond of this iteration of oracle???? it looks like a cross between cerebro from x-men and jarvis from iron man. it’s giving me second-hand embarrassment. somebody help me.

(at least they remembered dick’s middle name is actually “john”. i like to think bruce printed D in that contract because for a while he genuinely thought richard “dick” grayson was his full name. duck duck goose, dick dick grayson, i don’t know alfred, the kid was in a circus, maybe they thought it was funny. or maybe it was a test in anger control, who knows.)

6.5 “maybe you two would like some time alone?” even AI can’t help hitting on dick grayson in this universe.

“oh mr grayson, if i only had another eye to see you better...”

6.8. on one hand, it’s a bit disconcerting that the title of ‘oracle’ has gone from barbara herself to this gigantic machine; from my impression of the comics-verse, barbara had an extensive computing and surveillance system, true, but she was very clearly the brains behind the operation. on the other hand, i’m kind of glad that the ethical boundaries that this kind of surveillance violates is a sticking point for barbara. (tho let’s be real, the nsa would kill to have this in their arsenal).

6.9. also it’s now obvious that scarecrow’s big plan is to take control of oracle itself. it’s why he had lady vic take that picture of her eyes, or why he’s meddling around with it on his computer.

6.95. if only i could ‘command sleep’ anybody overstepping their boundaries re: personal information...

7. “you can just sit back and watch as the titans destroy themselves.” i mean... he’s not wrong

8. “dick’s parents were killed by a criminal mob; he won’t work with them.” it’s wonderful that you have this insight into dick, kory, i just wish we could’ve watched some of these conversations actually happen on-screen.

8.5. i’m glad that kom’s being treated with such nuance and understanding, though it’s obvious that she definitely has a Plan of her own. (and did i entirely imagine her ability to mimic other people flawlessly at the end of s2? or is that going to come into play at some point?) i think her story has the potential to be genuinely poignant, and in a universe where being Different, either because of mental health or physical differences or whatever else, leads a straight line to Evil, it’s important to acknowledge and then emphasise that the mere fact of your existence as a Different Person doesn’t predispose you to evil. maybe your act of destroying a system that has destroyed you and not scrambling to “fit in” is only evil as defined by that system. 

8.8. “you’re trespassing, i should call the authorities, i feel unsafe.” now this is a villain lady who’s definitely aware of her privilege.

8.85. kom smirking knowingly at her sister is everything.

“oooh that’s the kory i remember”

9. conner and dick working together woo!

9.25. god i hate a villain who’s always just a step ahead, no matter what. so crane anticipated dick using oracle to track his personal communications and set him up? how did he know when exactly dick would get to do this? how long did he have that poor man tied up in that van?

(the “save me, grayson” is a nice touch, tho. send dick spiralling even further! because if there’s one thing dick will do, it’s take responsibility for every goddamn thing that goes wrong.)

9.5. ahem. i’m going to need a million gifs of conner yeeting dick across that yard, fandom, thankyouverymuch.

(i understand conner is invulnerable to explosions, but how do his clothes survive??)

9.8. oooh crane is already in oracle! i’m just sitting here laughing helplessly because they’re overpowering this goddamned guy so much. he can build a lab in arkham’s basement! he has access to lazarus puddles! he has minions working across gotham, including a fully functional chemical laboratory staffed by chemists who only answer to him! he has the crime families of gotham quailing in his very presence! he has assassins at his beck and call! he’s enough of a manipulative bastard to have red hood under his thumb! and now he has enough of a tech know-how to not only be aware of oracle, but know how to hack into it! i’m sick of exclamation marks! i’ll shut up now!

9.95. dick leaving behind that smouldering grave for a person he failed to save without taking a second to process how he feels about it and running towards his next plan to corner scarecrow: a microcosm of where his head’s at right now.

10. really hammering in the themes of this season, aren’t we. 

10.25. the interesting thing is the titans repeatedly call themselves a family this season (none more so than dick) and while that found family has helped encapsulate and put away their traumatic experiences with their ‘original’ families, it’s meant that they’ve not really dealt with those issues. and dick and gar and jason come from ‘found families’ of their own: they are twice removed, traumatised two times over. they still cling to this identity however, and because of it they’re losing each other. a family isn’t static. it’s an ever-evolving dynamic and you have to put in work constantly to keep it healthy.

10.5. anyway, that’s entry #2346. i’m here aaaalll night.

11. lookit gar the detective! half-transforming and using his powers to deduce things! what a hero! i’ve said this for a long time, but gar is the bedrock of this team, and an unsung one at that.

11.25. i’m confused about him calling this room jason’s though. it seems to me that this is dick’s room that jason later used, and one that dick’s using now. so the unmade bed isn’t really jason’s fault; dick was woken by barbara that morning, and in his hurry, he left without making his bed.

(it still confounds me that bruce didn’t find jason another bedroom in that gigantic mansion of his. you really didn’t give this kid a chance, did you?)

12. oh well. so much for the oracle.

13. ... sorry, wait. you didn’t think i wasn’t going to address the bit with dick right now, did you?

12.5. i honestly don’t think it’s very complicated: dick’s been reeling from one traumatic thing to the next, and just when it seemed like at the beginning of the season, he felt happy and secure with his team and his place in the world, bruce ups and leaves gotham to him, specifically naming him a successor and calling him a ‘better batman’. he’s lost garth and jericho and donna and jason and now hank and dawn. he’s not even sure where rachel is or what she’s doing. after being told that batman was a psychopath for moulding him into a weapon, he’s also been told that his failure to be a ‘better batman’ lead to further disaster. of course he’s going to get batman-goggles. of course he’s going to be a prick. 

12.8. i don’t know what to say. i feel his frustration acutely. i don’t think he should’ve said what he said to barbara (can people stop pushing her around this season????) but that pressure to step in where your parent fails? to clean up their messes and try to think like them? to fall into habits drilled into you when you developed them as coping mechanisms growing up? I FEEL THAT. 

every step he’s taking he’s putting 110% of himself in it and scarecrow’s still playing mindgames with all of them: i absolutely feel his desperation to take control of that game and turn it on scarecrow, no matter what it takes.

and he did apologise almost immediately, and finally--finally--actually works with barbara. 

12.9. again, not excusing him! but i get it. and i think that’s a sign of great character writing.

“did you know i just reminded emmram of all of her daddy issues? what the fuck????”

12.95. i love that dick&barbara, kory&kom, and gar are all approaching solving this mystery from different angles, each as valid as the other. also, conner is there as... emergency bomb defuser man?

13. it’s like all fancy rich people in fancy rich houses do is pour fancy rich alcohol into fancy rich glasses on pristine, untouched tabletops. i wonder what it’s like to live like that.

13.25. I KNEW IT! poor michael. it was nice knowing you.

13.5. man, kory is contending with a lot of issues that she’s successfully bottled up and compartmentalised until now. the cold reality that a child can seek out their parents as refuge and they can view the child as a piece to be moved in a greater game (never out of cruelty, though, never, and somehow that makes it worse), that truth of blackfire’s treatment on tamaran because she’s different, and her own culpability in what happened. she exchanged one family for another, after all, and left that family to die and her sister to suffer. like dick, like gar, kory’s being forced to reckon with what the titans are meant to be, the larger implications of creating their found family in their own space.

14. it’s probably because it’s one in the morning and i’ve had two glasses of wine but i did not follow that bit of exposition at all and victor freeze??? what? 

anyway. look at them solving things! together! go team!

“you made a deal with the mob?” oh the sense of betrayal on his face! fuck off, dick, your issues aren’t kory’s. 

15. conner is really sweet and a bit of an awestruck crush on kom is to be expected. especially after that power rangers-esque transformation (i say this as a former huge power rangers fangirl. i’ve seen every series until 2007 including the original japanese versions and written fanfic for all of them. so i love a cool costume transformation, is what i’m saying.)

also?

FUCK YEAH

16. i love the gotham crime families just chillin’ around eating ice cream. I LOVE THEM

16.5. that was a fun fight sequence, if marred slightly by that bit of awkward flirting between conner and kom. i wonder if she’s really planning to use him in a larger scheme to get kory back to tamaran, or maybe something else. 

16.75. so i’m assuming that scarecrow has jason either so paralysed by fear that he can barely move, or jason’s withdrawing from the drug that he’s been sucking in every few minutes. 

17. it’s nice to see them chill after a successful mission! and it can be awkward, but conner’s crush on kom and him striving to impress her is also, well, uh... cute.

17.5. i guess the dick/barbara scene was inevitable, especially given the... unresolved nature of their relationship in the flashbacks? and they’ve been through a rollercoaster together this episode, discovering and then destroying an incredible tool within a matter of hours, re-discovering just how well they work together as a team. dick’s swimming in the nostalgia. i don’t expect it to last as a long-term relationship, but i totally get why this is happening now. and hey, they’re cute!

i have a weeeirrrrd feeling that kory is going to leave to tamaran at the end of the season and that dick and kory will rekindle--or rather realise--their relationship just before that. it’s going to be devastating and beautiful and painful and i will be writing essays about it which would be me just wailing into the screen.

18. gar found molly!!!!!!! MOLLY’S BACK! \o/ gar is the BEST

19. that was a fun episode! i love this silly show, even if it does destroy me sometimes <3

[handonhaven]

One thing I really hate about legacies' character (excluding Hope) and that episode & the fandom's criticisms is how little they care about Landon. I get where MG was coming from, but too little too late. Hope had to other choice and she has sacrificed so much for that school, she's the one dealing with the monsters they're so scared of and Landon has always been selfless and kind to the others but they couldn't even pretend to mourn or sympathize with Hope. Hope just wanted Josie to help since she was the only other gemini witch. She had no idea the spell would've been different/deadly and besides she was genuinely remorseful while Mizzie was okay with Landon suffering alone for another month.

I completely agree, I really hate it too, and it’s something I’ve been very bothered by for the past few episodes. No one was mourning him, no one did or said anything after they thought he had died. And even if they didn’t care at all, they could have at least been more compassionate towards Hope, but no. They were acting as if nothing had happened and that she should just carry on with her life right after. And they acted this way after, like you said, Landon had always been so kind to them, he had helped saved them from monsters in the past, he forgave MG for killing him, he saved Lizzie twice. And they didn’t even care when he died. Things improved a little bit last episode, at least Wade and Jed seemed to care, and Alaric too, I guess. And Kaleb and Cleo were also helping, and Cleo was the one who found a way to save him! But MG and Lizzie were the worst imo. Everyone has been saying they’re ruining Hope’s character, but did no one see what they’ve done to MG and Lizzie?? I understood where MG was coming from too, but still, it’s probably been at least a month since Landon went missing and he waits that long to say something? While telling Kaleb to not give up on Landon? It just made him come across as very fake to me, and self-righteous as well. And I’ve always really liked MG, but he seemed more concerned that no one wanted to eat with him and that not everyone was agreeing with him than he did about the fact that Landon and Hope had been suffering for weeks because of him. And then he takes the ascendant from Hope again, runs away to go on a road trip with Lizzie, all with a smile on his face? And Lizzie too, who was going along with him, not showing any concern for Landon? I get that they didn’t want to put the school or the people they love in danger, but it was the lack of remorse for me and how it seemed like they couldn’t have cared less that they were putting Landon’s life at risk by what they were doing. They could’ve at least acted like they felt bad about it, but they seemed happy to take away Landon’s one chance of escaping and to let him die. So it really changed my opinion of them, which is very disappointing because they’ve always been some of my favorites. And especially after Lizzie had been so supportive of Hope and Landon’s relationship at the beginning of season 2? What happened?

And you’re absolutely right about Hope as well. She’s been sacrificing herself and putting herself in danger constantly to protect everyone from the monsters, and they aren’t willing to deal with some of them to help her? Even though they’re supernatural and should be able to handle them? Especially when Landon was dealing with them alone, without any powers, for how long? It’s ridiculous. Hope has given up her happiness for them and has put Landon at risk for them, she had every right to ask for help and they should have been more than willing to help her after all she’s done. But they left her with no choice but to do what she did. I agree, she just needed Josie’s help because it was her only option. And it’s true, she never intended to put Josie or Lizzie in danger because she had no idea black magic would be involved. And I know there was a chance it could be deadly, but both her and Josie have survived having a lot of black magic inside them, she thought if they could just push through they would make it. But once they started to get infected, she apologized and you could see how much she truly meant it, unlike Mizzie, as you said.

So yeah, it’s all messed up and very disappointing, and the real issue behind it all was everyone caring so little about Landon. And what makes it even worse is the fact that we now have to watch Landon continue to be around these people, seeing him probably being kind to them like always as they throw rude comments at him (in Lizzie’s case anyway), knowing just how little they care about him. Like, in all honesty, at this point, I don’t want MG or Lizzie to get near him again. I really just want him and Hope to get away from that school. And sorry to go off about this haha, it’s just one of the things that has upset me the most about this show.

[plannedparenthood]

Promotores de Salud: Working hand in hand with their community

At Planned Parenthood we often talk about the systemic barriers that Latinas face in order to access sexual and reproductive health care. We talk about their resilience, the effort they make to support their children, their families and their community — putting themselves last on their long list of priorities. For more than 30 years, Planned Parenthood’s Promotoras program has worked in Latino communities to bring education and sexual and reproductive health care access to women, men and LGBTQ+ people. They only have one goal in mind: keep their communities healthy, something that has become especially challenging during the COVID-19 pandemic.

This month, we want to celebrate the work of three people who are part of the Promotoras program: Liliana Dávalos, Promotoras program manager at Planned Parenthood of the Rocky Mountains; Iliana Díaz, Planned Parenthood of the Rocky Mountains health promoter, and Cristóbal Vadebenito, Promotores program coordinator of Tennessee and North Mississippi.

Liliana Davalos

Education program manager and manager of the Promotoras program at Planned Parenthood of the Rocky Mountains

“I never spoke to my mom, my aunts, or my family about reproductive and sexual health. On  one hand they were ashamed to talk about this topic and on the other I did not know where to get good information. So once I learned  about it, I felt compelled to share with others what I had learned.

“The promotora keeps a close relationship with her community, she reaches out to people in a way that is convenient for them, so that she can share important information that is easy to understand. We understand Latinas well, because we know what it is like to live in the United States as Latinas and the shame that many people feel when talking about reproductive and sexual health. 

“So one of the issues that we address in our pláticas is the shame and stigma that exists around sex, and during this pandemic we have continued these conversations with our Spanish-speaking Latinas via video. For many of these women, this is the only space where they can talk about sex. They have many questions that they feel embarrassed to ask, but when they realize that there are other women who like them  want to talk about these topics, they start feeling the confidence to share their experiences and ask the questions that they never had the opportunity to ask. For instance one of the women told us that when she was younger she was told that a vinegar douche could prevent pregnancy and we told her: That’s not true!

“These myths are very popular in our culture. In fact, my mother had heard the same thing too. But these conversations give me the opportunity to learn more about these myths and correct them. Because there is a lot of misinformation about the health of women or people with vaginas. Wrong information that is passed from aunts and grandmothers, things that ‘they say’ but that are not correct. This is our opportunity to talk to them, about themselves and give them the information they need.

“Especially when it comes to birth control, there are people who don’t have enough information and don’t know how or where to obtain it. There are people who reach menopause without knowing what a condom is, but after they participate in these talks — whether they are virtual or not — they ask us to come back to educate their children, nephews and grandchildren who would benefit from learning about sexual health.

“Our work during this pandemic hasn’t stopped. We are learning to do shorter talks so our audience can keep the interest, we continue with our one-on-one calls, and I have even organized in-person meetings at my mom’s backyard — keeping a 6-foot distance — with some of her friends, and I loved doing it!

“I know that right now this is not an option, but I would like to see more promotoras de salud not only at Planned Parenthood of the Rocky Mountains but also throughout the country, because the promotoras provide a valuable service to the Latino community and their effort is genuine. They love their communities and their people, and that cannot be taught. You have to be special to have that love and compassion, and that’s what you need to be a promotora: compassion and love for your work.”

Iliana Diaz

Promotora at Planned Parenthood of the Rocky Mountains

“I started volunteering at Planned Parenthood when I was 18, primarily because I wanted to learn about sex and reproductive health care. I was afraid of having sex and being in  relationships, I didn't know how to take care of myself or how to protect myself, but I knew about the risks of having sex. I realized that I was not the only one who felt this way, and little by little, as I started to learn I also started to teach other people about STI tests and birth control. I started feeling more comfortable in my body and in the decisions that I was going to make regarding my sex life.

“Something that engaged me in the work was knowing that now I could help other people who felt exactly as I felt before. That they could call me and text me and that I was going to be able to help them, give them resources or point them in the right direction. I was happy to know that we could help not only with reproductive health services but with all the resources that the state of Nevada and Southern Nevada has to offer.

“One of the things I do in my community is helping many Mexican and Guatemalan folks to navigate Nevada's health care system, which is very complicated. I was born here and find it very difficult to navigate, so I cannot imagine how bad it must be for a person who has just moved here.

“Another of my responsibilities are the pláticas, which are discussions in which both of us — the promotora and the audience — participate. During these conversations we talk to people about reproductive justice and share relevant information to the community, and the audience share their experiences, their beliefs and myths.

“Recently, a Mexican woman who is undocumented and has lived here for three years contacted me because she needed services to end her pregnancy. Although she knew that abortion was her best option, she sometimes called me crying, so I asked her to reach out to me if she was too sad or felt depressed, so that I could get her in contact with an organization that could better help her. Since then, she has always called me to ask for resources. She has asked me to help her sister who is in a situation of domestic violence and has referred me to five people from her work who needed other resources. She feels that I impacted her life and knows that I will do the same for anyone else who needs help. That is what it means to be a promotora: to help everyone. People know that I am here for them, that I am not an expert in everything, but that I will go and find the answers to their questions or the resources that they need in order to move forward with their lives and solve their problems in the future. My work is not about giving, but about teaching them to be able to stand up for themselves.

“This woman may have not noticed it, but she is already acting as a promotora, because she is talking to the women in the community and sharing resources with other people. That is the importance of empowering people, now she feels confident about herself and able to share resources safely. That makes me feel like I'm doing my job a little more than 100%!

“I would like the Promotoras program to be part of the different areas of the health system (diabetes, cancer, etc.) and help in different fields like immigration, domestic violence, and other issues that the Las Vegas community needs. I don't know for how much longer I will be working at Planned Parenthood, but I know that I will always, always, always be a promotora, because I will always be willing to give answers and resources to the people of my community.”

Cristobal Valdebenito

Coordinator of the Outreach Promotoras Program for Planned Parenthood of Tennessee and North Mississippi 

“A promotor is an important part of the community, a person who has a genuine interest in helping their people and in providing them information on the topics of sexual and reproductive health care. As promotore we know the culture of our communities, we speak their language and use their same slang; we are close to them and thus we ensure that our messages are well received.

“Our help is not limited to handing out flyers in Spanish or handing out condoms. We work hand in hand with the community, meeting people where they are. For example, we organize “pláticas” at the Methodist church where people attend. The pastor of that church invited me to speak to her parishioners about sexually transmitted infections (STIs) and I asked the audience to think of me as a friend who has some information that he would like to share with them — but never from a position of superiority, but as an equal.

“We also go to the mobile units that the Guatemalan, Salvadoran and Mexican embassies make available to the people, to talk to them about STIs. Sometimes we find that some people cannot read, or they do not speak Spanish but Mam and Quiché. So our contribution in those moments is more on the side of helping them fill out forms, answer questions and even find translators; something we have done in the past.

“The men in my community are generally interested in knowing about STIs. They have many questions regarding the difference between HIV and AIDS because there is so much stigma and taboo around those diseases. Most think that they are the same thing and that it is a disease only for gay people; which for them represents a big problem. So you have to tell them a little about the history of these diseases so that they themselves realize that these diseases do not discriminate. I also find that they have a lot of resistance to getting medical checkups; in fact many men think that only women should get tested for STIs, and they must be made aware that if they do these tests they can stop the spread of infections. This is especially important in Shelby County, where we work, since it has one of the highest numbers of gonorrhea and chlamydia in the country.

“In recent years we have worked with institutions like Free Condoms Tennessee and our English counterpart, to begin to reduce those numbers. And I think that is our greatest contribution.”

[vestigiallegs]

If their roles were swapped: how would Sam fare as a psionic and Ike as a lycomorph? How would their lives, personality and outlook change?

I actually answered this same hypothetical on my old oc blog years ago! However, my answer was pretty general, and with the development PT has had since then I have a better idea of what the specifics would be now, I think. Incoming longpost.

SAM AS A PSIONIC

SITUATION: Growing up in Rietveld would appeal to Sam for some of the same reasons it appealed to Isaac. Baby Sam ABSOLUTELY would have appreciated being stolen from her birth family, taken out of contact with her shitty father, and raised in an environment with some semblance of stability. However, with her general temperament and attitude I don't think she would ever have the same level of emotional attachment to Rietveld that Isaac does. In his most bootlicker moments, Rietveld IS his family, and a genuine savior to people like him.

Sam wouldn't share that take.

She would feel that the Rietveld Academy is more of a necessary evil. An organization with a good mission statement and a bunch of power hungry dirtbags looking to co-opt it into their personal army (a pretty on-the-nose assessment).

Adapting to her new life would be harder for her than it was on Ike, as she is generally allergic to rules and strict schedules and conformity. She would be a lot of trouble as a new recruit, hideously uncooperative and generally looking for problems. Of course, when you deal exclusively with kidnapped children, you see this kind of behavior a lot, so she wouldn’t actually be anything the Academy wasn't prepared to handle. Eventually she would tucker herself out enough to become somewhat system compliant (but she would always be looking for discreet acts of rebellion that she could get away with).

As she got older she would feel torn between wanting to put as much distance between her and Rietveld politics as possible, and feeling an obligation to every other psionic to try and effect change where possible. She would decide the latter was the morally right thing to do, and end up going down a very similar career path to Ike. In general, she would make a lot of his same choices, she'd just be more conscientious about it.

Assuming she was as psychically talented as Ike is, she'd have a similar time rising through ranks, garnering some level of recognition, reaching a sort of smalltime celeb status in certain corners of Rietveld. Eventually, though, her career would come to a ceiling. While this Sam would have learned to hold her tongue now and then, she is terminally pushy and nosy, and there would come a point where her superiors just... didn't want her any closer to sensitive information. Her career would lose steam in a much less dramatic way than Ike’s, and though she would remain respected people’s attention would drift as she settled into the life of a cog.

From here I can see two options.

1. She gets disillusioned and leaves for Verdamt of her own volition, growing even more disgruntled with Rietveld once she’s living outside of the system. She lives her best life but feels bitter that Rietveld stole years of her life from her.

2. She stays in her position for years, becoming one of those “cool middle aged mentor who is in a position of authority but not a jackass about it and looks the other way if you break a rule that hurts nobody” type characters who dies in a story’s inciting incident, either after discovering something they shouldn’t have and/or getting mercilessly betrayed by someone obviously evil who they fully trusted for some reason (fitting for her).

PERSONALITY: Sam as you know her, but with a much larger vocabulary. She has strategically polished her personality to come off as more intentional, charming, and rascal-y in order to balance her innate desire to mouth off and backtalk with her need to function in Rietveld’s existing hierarchy. Unflappably confident. Could function as a D&D party’s face without getting them all killed.

Cuts her hair short, very clean cut style, doesn’t smell sweaty. No tattoos. Still missing an eye.

ISAAC AS A LYCOMORPH

SITUATION: Ike's regular life is already stressful enough, and he is emotionally equipped to deal with psionic problems, he is not emotionally equipped to deal with lycomorph problems like Sam is.

First things first: he spent his entire childhood being raised ("raised”) by Seymour. Seymour is a career lycomorph hunter who has spent years tracking his runaway feral werewolf wife with the intent to kill her. He ABSOLUTELY expects his sons to follow in his footsteps, and when they are older, he makes sure they do. He raises his sons telling them they are obligated to help in the mom hunt and that every person they let her kill is second hand their fault. Terry grows up going “haha sure okay dad (turns to Ike and makes the cuckoo sign at him)”, but Isaac takes this to heart because he is just... really susceptible to guilt tactics.

You can probably already guess how Isaac would get infected and how Seymour would react to this.

Isaac knows his father is an awful, terrible man, even more than usual since he was actually raised (”raised”) by him. He KNOWS it. Even so, he finds himself completely caught off guard. He really for real thought “my dad would never murder me” was really a boundary Seymour wouldn’t cross. Of course, he also knows (”knows”) he shouldn’t feel hurt about this either, because executing the infected just makes sense, you know...

So this sad, wretched dogman is probably just going to let Seymour kill him, but luckily Terry is a voice of reason AS ALWAYS and kills Seymour before he can (something Terry has always wanted to do anyway).

Isaac copes very badly with being a lycomorph. While Sam adapts to her new normal relatively quickly, everything about being a lycomorph repulses Ike. He doesn’t like the transformations, they’re inconvenient and he finds them disproportionately painful. He doesn’t like being a naked wolfman once the change is over with. He hates eating carrion. He develops a psychosomatic weak stomach and struggles to eat enough for a lycomorph because he can’t emotionally bring himself to eat sub-human-grade food because THAT’S GROSS.

Luckily, good ol’ dependable Terry is looking out for him. No, really. Terry looks out for him. Not very well, because this is Terry we’re talking about, but he’s giving it his all and making sure Ike doesn’t die. (What makes you think Terry wouldn’t be there for his only brother?)

PERSONALITY: Absolutely VIBRATING with anxiety. Imagine one of those excruciatingly fearful, huge bite risk dogs. That’s him. Really hung up on and over dramatic about being a monster. Out of touch with what he likes and wants because he repressed like 3/4ths of his personality to get along with dad.

Looks like regular Ike got lost in the woods for a week. Doesn’t wax. Shakes like a chihuahua.

[pokegeek151]

By popular demand, what if Orion was well written part 2/??

Previous   Next   Bonus

Orion was settling into a more comfortable position in his chair, seemingly oblivious to Holly’s nervous energy across from him. Argon, somewhat desperate to talk to Artemis after he’d missed over a month of sessions in favor of letting Orion handle them, had agreed to step out at the young man’s request. The doctor decided that leaving him alone for this exercise was a bad idea, though, so Holly was called in to babysit.

“I don’t think I’m qualified to do this,” she said.

“You’ll be fine, love,” Orion said with what he hoped was reassuring confidence. “Though you know I adore being around you, your presence is mostly a formality.” As he spoke, he placed his hands facedown on his legs, allowed his limbs to relax into the gel-supported cushioning, and let his eyes fall closed. “Expect to be bored.”

“If you say so,” she said. As Orion’s motions stilled, Holly spoke up again. “How long do you think it will take?”

“Difficult to say. If Artemis is agreeable, only a couple minutes.” He opened one eye and grinned. “Though Artemis being agreeable is not something I would place money on if you’re not in the habit of losing.”

Holly grinned as well and allowed Orion to begin his meditation. Despite herself, she leaned forward curiously. Though she had of course induced a few switches herself, they were all violent and came after long periods of electroshock-induced unconsciousness. She had never seen them do a voluntary switch.

Orion spent a few minutes focusing on his breathing and observing his body in physical space. Artemis had taken up mediation and mindfulness as a hobby years ago, and that knowledge had sunk into Orion’s consciousness, as well. Eventually, the world around him slipped away and the light of Artemis’ mind office became visible in the distance. At this realization, the image of legs formed beneath him, and he walked towards it. By the time he arrived at the office, Orion was fully formed in the mind space.

“Artemis, can I come in?” he asked, though it was unnecessary. The mind is a funny thing; though Orion as the conscious alter had to focus on the arrival into the office, to Artemis, he simply appeared already inside. Orion was nothing but a gentleman, though, and he always asked for an invitation into what he considered Artemis’ space.

“Of course,” Artemis answered. His desk had changed since Orion had last visited; there were stacks of paper and what appeared to be a rudimentary circuit board and other electrical materials arranged atop it. Of course, rudimentary was relative, and the board on the desk was actually quite advanced on an objective level, but Orion knew that it was practically a child’s toy to Artemis.

“What’s that?” Orion asked, genuinely curious. He had never seen anything like it in the mind office.

“I’ve been doing experiments,” Artemis replied. He stepped aside and allowed Orion to examine the device. “It’s quite a simple circuit board, but I have perfect knowledge of its construction and properties.” He reached over and pressed a button on the board, and the device buzzed to life. “It took quite a bit of mental effort and focus, but I have actually created a working piece of electronic equipment in my own mind.”

“Astounding,” Orion said, awestruck. It was incomprehensibly impressive. “A perfect recreation of a physical object.”

“I knew you’d have a proper appreciation within the mind space,” Artemis said. While together like this, the edges of their personalities started to blur and mix. They were still separate, but perhaps not as distinct as when one of them was fronting. Some of Artemis’ intelligence and scientific awareness bled over.

Orion nodded, though something about the discovery bothered him. “But why?” he asked, gingerly placing the device back onto the desk. 

“I have no intention of spending the rest of my life simply watching you pilot my body,” he said. “So I came up with something to do. I plan to experiment with oil paints next, then move on to something more complicated. My goal is to be able to invent from within here and run accurate tests on new discoveries.” He sounded genuinely excited, his willingness to show emotion enhanced by Orion’s presence.

Orion wasn’t sure how to react. A certain detail Artemis had mentioned was making it hard for him to get as excited as his alter. “That is…very impressive, Artemis,” he said. He hesitated, trying to phrase his concern delicately, then decided not to beat around the bush. “Do you really expect to spend your whole life in here?”

Artemis, who had started to fiddle with the circuit board, paused. “Well, I suppose not,” he said noncommittally.

Orion stepped around him, partially blocking his view of the desk. “You can’t stay in here forever, Artemis.”

Artemis stepped back, away from Orion. “And why not? Who are you to dictate my life?”

“It’s my life, too,” he said, taking a half step closer to Artemis, who moved away the same amount. “And there are people out there waiting for you.”

“People whom I will push away once I lose myself to the disease.” There was a rising anger in Artemis. Orion could feel it. 

“People who will stand by your side while you recover,” he countered. This wasn’t how he wanted the conversation to go.

“When I’m outside, I am not the person they know. I cannot control my own thoughts.”

“They know that, and they love you.”

“And what do you know of that?” It was Artemis’ turn to move forward and Orion’s to retreat. “They tolerate you, at best, and you know that.”

“You’re wrong, Artemis.”

Artemis continued his approach, forcing Orion towards the view wall inch by inch. “Am I? You are delusional; the world to you is a storybook.”

“That’s not fair, I’ve been getting better—“

“You have no respect for Holly’s personal boundaries. She is disgusted by you.”

“That’s not true. I’m learning, and she—“

Artemis stopped as Orion’s back was about to touch the gel of the wall. “And worst of all, you are trying to replace me, and they know that.”

Orion planted his feet and met his alter in the eye. “I’m not trying to replace you. You’re stressed, and your paranoia has infected your haven. Allow yourself to calm down, and you will see you are thinking illogically.”

Artemis also planted his feet. “Get out of my head,” he said, and pushed Orion into the view wall.

Artemis, ever unathletic, had telegraphed his action, so Orion wasn’t surprised when he was shoved, but he allowed it to happen anyway. He knew that Artemis was too agitated to be reasoned with at the moment, a once rare, nearly impossible occurrence that was happening more and more frequently as Artemis continued to lock himself inside his mind. Orion thought perhaps that allowing Artemis to shove him might offer some cathartic relief, at the very least. 

The gel fizzled on his skin, though the golden fours that made the substance buzz with electricity ignored him. Because he was allowing himself to resurface, the wall gave him almost no resistance. 

In the real world, his body jolted in the chair. Holly rushed to support him immediately, placing a hand on his shoulder to help keep him upright.

“Artemis? Are you alright?”

“I am fine, princess, though the fair prince remains trapped within his accursed tower.” Ah, there was the fairy tale, right on schedule. The stress was exacerbating his delusions. “I fear a witch has hexed him. Perhaps we can brew a potion to negate the enchantment.”

Holly frowned but didn’t contradict him. “I take it Artemis wasn’t feeling agreeable?”

Orion rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. “No. He pushed me out. Literally.” He was exhausted from the ordeal. Entering the mind space with Artemis was not itself a tiring activity, but the mental energy he expended in their fight, as well as the rather ungraceful exit, had drained him.

“What happened?” she asked, shifting from sitting on her heels to kneeling beside his chair.

“He’s inventing,” Orion said. “He built a circuit board.”

“Hunkering down,” Holly realized. “He’s in it for the long haul.”

“Indeed. He got angry at me. He yelled at me, forced me out. As I told the good Doctor, he’s scared. He fears you’ll reject him, princess.”

Holly looked almost offended. “I wouldn’t dare,” she said.

Orion smiled sadly. “I know. I told him as much, but he was beyond reason.” Holly opened her mouth to question, clearly confused by the very notion, but Orion explained before she could ask. “Within the mind space, our characteristics…mix, a bit. Though I am made from that which he had repressed, when the two parts are put together, we begin to combine. There is no risk,” he added quickly, seeing concern flash across her features. “Just a bit of blurring at the edges.”

Holly looked around the room, giving her eyes something to do while she processed all of this. “If asking nicely won’t work, we’ll have to come up with something more aggressive,” she decided. “He can’t just stay in there forever.”

Orion nodded. “We will save him from the dragons that plague him.” He tried to shift his posture to evoke the stance of a knight, but he only held it for a moment before the exhaustion hit him again and he tilted forward into Holly, who had moved to catch him before he even realized he was falling. The chair was comfortable, but he had no desire to sleep in it. “Though perhaps we should return to the castle first. I would appreciate some time to recover before we begin our quest.” Holly helped him stand, and after an uncertain moment, Orion gained his balance. 

><

In the hall, Argon was pacing, waiting for the pair to finish. He turned excitedly when the door finally opened.

“Artemis? Holly? How did it go?” he asked, rocking back and forth on his heels.

“Orion is exhausted,” Holly said bitterly. She wanted Artemis to spend some time outside his own head as much as the next person, but Argon’s blatant disregard for Orion was insulting. “Session’s ending early.” Without waiting for approval, she led Orion down the hall.

Argon scurried after them. “But there’s still nearly half an hour left!” he cried.

“Session’s over, doc,” Holly called over her shoulder. Even with an exhausted Mud Boy in tow, they were able to easily outpace the squat doctor.

Butler was waiting for them outside the clinic. There was nowhere inside for him to comfortably wait, though Foaly had said something about an oversized chair being put on order. He glanced at the door on habit as it opened, checking for security, but he did a double-take when he realized Holly and his charge leaving the building half an hour ahead of schedule.

“Is everything alright?” he asked as the pair approached.

“Argon is letting him go early, today,” Holly said in a tone that told Butler it was likely not Dr. Argon’s decision.

“And why is that?” he asked casually, falling into step with them as they headed towards the nearest shuttle station. If Holly had forced Argon to end the session, Butler was willing to trust it was for a good reason.

“Because Artemis is stubborn as a hungry troll,” she answered.

“He had no interest in making an appearance,” Orion added, confirming his identity for Butler.

Butler had, of course, known about the plan for today’s session, and he’d been quietly hoping Artemis would finally come back to them. Artemis and his alter looked a lot alike when tired, and Butler hadn’t been certain who was fronting. He must have let some of his disappointment show based on the way Orion’s features tightened, though the young man didn’t comment. Butler instantly felt guilty, though he also said nothing. He hadn’t meant to hurt Orion, but Artemis was still his priority. 

“I see,” was all the man offered.

The trek to the shuttle station was uneventful, though the group got more stares than usual. The regular commuters through this part of Haven had gotten used to seeing the massive Mud Man in this time of day, but the half hour difference was enough to mix up the crowd.

The shuttle ride was similarly uneventful; the one shuttle large enough to carry Butler had been co-opted by the LEP and served as private transport for the humans 3 days a week, so there was no need to wait for a ride or concern themselves with citizens being in their way. Orion dozed lightly during the ride, his head against Butler’s arm. He looked peaceful. As peaceful as Artemis did in his sleep, Butler noted.

Orion roused himself as the shuttle landed, though he fell asleep on Holly’s shoulder once they were in the Bentley. She nudged him awake once they arrived at the Manor.

“That really took a lot out of you,” she said as he unfolded himself from the car.

“More than expected,” he said. “I think I am sad,” he added, “for sadness is a tiring emotion.”

“What’s making you sad?” Holly asked. She had heard enough about his therapy sessions to pick up on some things. He still struggled with identifying his emotions at times, and encouraging him to explore what he was feeling helped with that.

“Artemis.” He held his hand out in front of him and turned it over and back, studying the surface and the way his fingers moved. “He is in anguish.”

Holly nodded. “I’m sad about that, too. And frustrated.” Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, and she forced herself to uncurl them.

Orion nodded. “You can’t punch your way through this.”

“As much as I want to,” she agreed.

The sessions with Argon were at the beginning of the day in Haven, but fairies being nocturnal creatures meant that it was dark above ground when they were done. There were footlights along the paths on the estate, but to minimize light pollution, they were on specialized motion sensors that were fine-tuned enough to differentiate between wild animals and humans (and fairies, of course). As such, the world around them was a shroud of gloom for a few seconds until the lights clicked on, giving everything a unique, almost unsettling glow from below. On hard, tiresome days like today, the unnatural underside lighting seemed mystical in a way Orion was growing better and better at determining to be part of his delusions. This was something he knew, and at Argon’s suggestion, he used this knowledge to practice grounding techniques after sessions.

Today was no exception. As much as he would love to go straight inside and collapse into bed, practice and consistency were important, so he took a few minutes to breathe deeply and take inventory of his senses and his thoughts. Holly and Butler both waited for him, silently exchanging slightly worried expressions. They knew what he was doing, but his mental health was still a concern, especially after a particularly trying therapy session. And of course, they were always thinking about Artemis. They had both returned their expressions to neutral by the time Orion was done, though, and the trio finally escaped the cool, humid night air so Orion could get some much needed rest.

[scripttorture]

Are there usually pretty clear lines of separation between instances of torture, negligence, and unethical experimentation? Or do the three tend to cross over pretty often because of general lack of respect for prisoners in those types of situations? (Sorry if this sent twice, Tumblr is being dumb)

There isn’t always a clear separation in reality. The lines can be pretty blurred. (And no worries about multiple copies this place is a hellsite I understand.)

 I make a strict distinction because I feel like that can be helpful to writers who might be… approaching a common sci fi scenario with no knowledge of how medical experimentation works.

 The reason I make that distinction is because I think that otherwise it’s really really easy to fall into the trap of portraying torture as ‘smart’ or ‘scientific’. Which… it isn’t. It can’t be.

 Here’s the thing: if any kind of torture or neglect is going on then it is a variable. And anything truly scientific needs to account for variables. The big question here from my perspective isn’t so much ‘could this cross section of abuse happen’ it’s ‘could the scientists get results from it’.

 If you want to write smart scientists who are actually making some kind of progress with their discoveries then torture isn’t usually a good fit.

 The exception would be when the experiment itself is torture, something like ‘how long does it take the average person to die if we take out their intestines?’ or ‘what happens to the body when a person is starved?’

 I’m going to throw out a couple of examples to show you what I mean writing wise and then talk about how these things happen in reality.

 Say you have your bad guys doing something suitably sci fi like trying to graft wings to some humans.

 In a truly scientific (but unethical) scenario there will be lots of groups of test subjects/prisoners all of whom will be submitted to a slightly different regime to see which gives the highest success rate. They might all be given different drugs after the grafting procedure, or the grafting procedure itself might be subtly different.

 But their cell conditions, food, and general environment would need to be kept constant. That’s done so that procedure itself is reproducible. So that the evil scientists can confidently say ‘this version of the procedure is the most successful one and therefore we should use it.’

 These test subjects could still be suffering a lot because the point here isn’t to reduce their suffering (hence unethical). The point is to make sure that they’re not suffering in a way which impacts the results.

 Now if there are torturers in the facility this careful controlling of factors goes out the window because torturers do not show self-restraint, patience or any real ability to follow instructions.

 The torturers might be going round beating up the prisoners or depriving them of food or interrupting their sleep (I’m just picking common tortures here). And any of those things would be expected to effect someone’s immune response and/or chances of dying. And the torturers (if they’re behaving like torturers) won’t keep records of this or do it in an even, consistent way.

 Which means all the results the scientists are gathering become… meaningless. Because now rather then the results showing the most successful version of the procedure they show… well probably something completely random.

 May be all the test subjects on site 3 died regardless of the procedure used (because there were torturers on that site but not the others). May be the only tests that were successful were the subjects at the last four cells of the corridor (because it was further for the torturers to walk before beating someone up).

 Note that the scientists in this do not know the reasons why these things happened and they might not have enough information to guess.

 The information gathered is flawed. And if using this procedure on a large scale is a later plot point… well it could still be possible with the second scenario but you’d expect a much higher failure rate.

 I’m a scientist. My day job is testing medicines. The history of medicine, and science generally, is full of abuse.

 But that abuse does not look like the cackling evil ‘scientist’ who has a grand total of one test subject and somehow gets consistent, reliable results.

 And when torture and/or neglect overlap with genuine attempts at experimentation in real life it gives results that can’t be taken at face value. They need to be analysed and tested further, sometimes for decades, in order to determine whether they’re genuine or not.

 Let’s take some examples that are more like real life.

 Imagine a scenario where scientists are testing a new vaccine* on prisoners. They are doing this in an unethical manner, by vaccinating the prisoners, waiting for a while and then deliberately infecting them with the disease. Unknown to the scientists the prisoners are routinely sleep deprived.

 Sleep deprivation depresses the immune response. Some of the prisoners develop the disease when vaccinated and die. Some of them don’t but they do get the disease when they’re deliberately infected, suggesting the vaccine doesn’t work. And some of them don’t develop the disease when deliberately infected.

 Now we know today that sleep deprivation reduces the immune response and there is evidence that it can make vaccines in particular less effective.

 So does this particular vaccine work or not? The true answer is that we can’t tell and more data is needed.

 But without the knowledge that at least some of these prisoners are sleep deprived the scientists can’t arrive that conclusion. They can’t really make any definite conclusion.

 As another example let’s look at the case of Elsie Lacks**.

 Elsie was a black child committed to a mental institute in 1950. She was deaf, epileptic and had developmental disabilities of some kind. She was experimented on without her consent during the period she was hospitalised and died at the age of 15.

 We have records of some of the things Elsie was forced to endure because samples sizes were such that some of the experiments must have involved every single epileptic child in the hospital.

 One of the recorded experiments was on brain imaging. It involved draining the fluid around the brain (a painful and dangerous procedure) in order to take pictures of it and identify the cause of epilepsy.

 Stress and trauma can effect the structure of the developing brain. There was no attempt to account for the fact that the overcrowded, dangerous conditions in the hospital could have effected the end results.

 There was also no attempt to account for the fact that these children were being used in other experiments. And that means that if this experiment did identify key brain differences there’d be no firm evidence that those differences were due to epilepsy rather then trauma or other experimental procedures.

 What I’m trying to highlight here is that abuse in an experimental scenario isn’t just unethical it gets in the way of drawing accurate conclusions.

 Torture does sometimes take place with a lot of pseudo-scientific trappings.

 Abuse in concentration camps around the world comes to mind because (with a few exceptions) this mostly seemed to involve individual doctors picking out people to abuse with no real regard to results. Things like attempts to change eye colour by putting chemicals in people’s eyes and sewing twins together appear to have been conducted with pseudo-scientific trappings, rather then as careful experiments.

 I say that these things weren’t experiments because there does not appear to have been any consistency, attempt to create a control group or sufficient sample sizes to draw conclusions.

 And yes, I realise just how fucked up all that sounds when we’re talking about people who were tortured to death. That’s part of my point.

 There’s a difference between a villain who is primarily focused on abusing others and a villain who doesn’t really care whether their victims suffer or not so long as they get data.

 Torture can take place with pseudo-scientific trappings and unethical experimentation can take place alongside torture and neglect.

 I make that strong distinction to encourage authors to think about what the most important part of their scenario is and tailor what they’re writing to reflect that. I want you to think about what’s going on in your story and what the consequences should be for the characters and the plot in general. Mostly I want writers to understand what ‘experiment’ means before throwing the word around and making torturers look smarter then they are.

 An experiment should be:

Reproducible

Conducted with control groups

Conducted with a big enough sample size

Well recorded

Involve only one small change to procedure at a time

Account for variables

Analysed

 So what’s the important part of your story? Is it that the victims suffer, or that the bad guys get some kind of knowledge? And if it’s the latter does the victims’ suffering have the potential to get in the way?

 I don’t really believe in hard writing rules. So long as a scenario isn’t actively supporting torture I try to take a ‘never say never’ attitude.

 The message here isn’t to never ever mix these things together: it’s to take the time to understand the separate components before you do that.

 And think about what any mixture you write might be implying.

 I hope that helps. :)

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Disclaimer

*I chose this as an example because this sort of thing happened and because there were some massive risks involved with a lot of early vaccines. This does not mean they were worse then the diseases they protected people against when they worked. See hemorrhagic smallpox. Or don’t if you want to sleep tonight.

 **I come back to this one a lot because it absolutely infuriates me.

[soundoflaughingwind]

Qrow’s Experiences With Trauma

The thing is, the experiences we have with our early caregivers are what shapes our self-worth and ability to form attachments with others. If our parents think badly of us, or if we receive disordered or negligent care as children, it deeply negatively affects us. If a child is demeaned or harshly criticized from a young age, it damages their self-worth. Children construct protective barriers around emotional wounds, and these barriers also work to prevent new attachments, in order to not risk vulnerability.

It’s pretty obvious that Qrow has had his Semblance active from a young age, and that it’s forcibly colored all of his relationships, whether people know about it or not. We know that Qrow has been blamed for bad luck around him ever since his Semblance was unlocked. He was likely forced to keep his distance from the other bandits because of that, and I put forward that this is where his habit of physically distancing himself from others comes from, in order to not ‘infect’ others with his bad luck. He couldn’t please those around him, regardless of his actions, and this pushed him into emotional withdrawal as well as physical.

Qrow’s addiction to alcohol is another symptom of his trauma. Severe childhood trauma is related to an increase in the chances of drug dependency (e.g., alcohol), and alcohol is also connected to and results in social and emotional isolation from friends and family. All of which are things Qrow shows signs of in RWBY.

Qrow probably turned to alcohol young, either as an emotional crutch to numb the hurt of the rejection by other members of his tribe, because it dulled the effects of his Semblance, or because alcoholism was normalized by the bandits. (As a side note, I also theorize that drinking is normalized in parts of Remnant as a way to numb negative emotions and keep from attracting Grimm. Whether this works or not is a matter for debate.) In any case his alcoholism was encouraged/not discouraged by the bandits.

His profession as a spy is another way Qrow maintains both physical and emotional distance. He leaves his family for long periods of time, assuring himself it’s for the best, when what he’s really doing is just enforcing the walls protecting his emotional wounds.

I doubt that Qrow ever had much of a support system outside of his team, and it’s pretty clear that Raven was never really emotionally available. When Summer died, Qrow lost about half his emotional support, and Tai went into a depression, which negated his ability to do the same. Doubtlessly, that whole tragedy and its consequences only exacerbated Qrow’s trauma regarding emotional intimacy.

It’s not that he doesn’t want attachment, it’s clear he wants it desperately, but that he’s terrified to seek it out. So he draws away and self-sabotages with alcohol, as if to prove to himself that he really is a fuckup and then uses his drinking as an additional reason to push people away and keep his walls up. Because he’s terrified of what will happen if he lets those walls down.

The attachment styles people develop in childhood stay with them our entire lives, unless they go through some form of therapy and/or trauma recovery. People with disrupted attachments in childhood are often afraid of genuine closeness. Many prefer detachment to connection because they’re afraid dependency and closeness will only lead to rejection. Because of the circumstances surrounding his Semblance and his childhood, Qrow believes himself unworthy of love and support.

Ozpin acted as someone Qrow trusted, who granted him purpose without getting so emotionally close that Qrow felt the need to automatically drive him away. When Ozpin’s backstory and secrets were revealed, it violated the trust that had been built and caused Qrow to lash out. Qrow took it as a severe emotional betrayal and retreated into his primary coping mechanisms: self-isolation and alcohol. He numbed himself to the betrayal and in doing so numbed himself to everything else going on around him.

In order to change, have to be mature enough to reflect accurately on your behavior and say, “I want to change things.” You have to have to actively choose to seek and accept help. Any interventions people attempted to previously hold for Qrow failed because he was unwilling to allow people past his protective walls, and refused to accept their offers of help.

The Apathy finally helped Qrow realize how deeply fucked up things were. He was supposed to be the adult, supposed to be able to keep the others safe. But when he was most needed, he was sitting in a cellar getting stone drunk. If not for Maria and for Ruby’s Silver Eyes, everyone would have ended up dead, and that hit Qrow really hard.

When Ruby finally confronted him while they were in Argus was what finally pushed him into taking up sobriety, I think. Ruby has been shown to idolize Qrow: she bases her style on his, he taught her how to use a scythe, she obviously adores her uncle. And throughout this season she’s been getting more and more upset at his drunkenness. Her confrontation was the last straw on the camel’s back, what forced him to finally accept exactly how badly his actions were affecting her and the others. Change always has to be a choice. And Qrow finally decided to make that choice.

Dealing with attachment trauma requires consistent, sensitive, and loving behavior from those around you, which Qrow does get, but he also really needed that hard push to knock him out of the rut he’d dug himself into through the years. Of course, Qrow needs to resolve old grief and work out issues on both an emotional and intellectual level if he wants to continue to heal. Deep-seated and longstanding trauma doesn’t just go away, but Qrow is definitely working on pushing himself to be better.

As of V7, I wouldn’t say that Qrow is recovered completely. Trauma doesn’t just disappear, or addiction, or coping mechanism you’ve used your entire life. But Brothers, he’s trying.

Of course, Qrow’s life just can’t be smooth sailing. Clover’s death and Ironwood’s betrayal were basically slaps in the face for him. I think regardless of how you view Qrow’s relationship with Clover, it’s clear that he was hopeful that here was someone his Semblance wouldn’t hurt, and that was shattered with Clover’s death. Qrow also genuinely trusted General Ironwood; he was wary but ultimately trusting, and was insistent that he needed to talk with Ironwood, was convinced that things could be worked out. Ironwood shooting Oscar, though, is unforgivable, and his plan to sacrifice Mantle for the potential safety of Atlas is horrifically calculated and fatally short-sighted.

My worry is that despite his resolution, Qrow will return to his previous behavior. If not going back to drinking, then isolating himself emotionally. In fact, judging by how he acts after Clover is killed, it’s very likely.