#Anyway it wasn't cancer and they're fine

[chronurgy]

I learned to drive later in life than most people (in my mid 20s) and I wish I had some helpful advice for people there but I don't. It's like one day something snapped in my brain and I said oh okay, I can drive now. It's fine. And it was. It was fine. I still probably dislike driving more than the average person but I'm more than willing to do it.

[modmad]

Hey Mod, I don't know what's going on that hurt you, I feel like I missed something that's happened, but I can tell from what I did see that it didn't just hurt you, but scared you and made you feel a Lot of doubt. I've also seen a lot of messages pouring in with support, and I want to share mine.

I have hypermobile type EDS, fibromyalgia, and a whole bucket's worth of faulty wiring in my brain. And I've always had stories to tell but I never felt I was good enough to share them. If it's because I can't focus enough to get through nanowrimo, or because I can't manage the focus and time towards drawing as a hobby, or the fact that an excessive amount of either for me leads to my hands wanting to shut down. But you? You *inspire* me. Your stories, all the ones I've seen, read, experienced in some way or another, they're so good. And you're open and honest with your fans about your own health, and of course, we support you and always would rather you rest and feel as best you can, instead of pushing out something and working yourself too hard. But all of this is to say that. I think I would have given up on my own stories if I hadn't found you and yours.

I hope whatever is going on sorts itself out, I hope you're able to keep telling your stories. At your own pace, in your own way. I think you deserve to be happy. If there's anything we (your fans, especially those of us too awkward to come off anon, whoops,) can do, to help in some way? Even if it's silly videos or cute cat pictures or whatever it is that could just help you smile. We're here. We love you.

woof. I woke up to so many messages I can't even read them all in one go I'm getting too emotional- I do feel I owe an explanation so I'll explain what happened under the cut but all you guys need to know is I'm okay, I got through it, I love you, and you're so important to me and I'm so grateful for all the messages that have asked me to stay.

tw for suicidal thoughts and all that

yeah so I have the bad morning of all mornings: was introduced to the fact there's this one character (Mr Puzzles) on a very popular youtube that. resembles RGB. incredibly strongly. like. I don't want to link to it just look if you want to. Anyway at the time I thought it had just dropped (seems to have been around for 6 months actually), and having commented on it I immediately got an inbox full of hate mail.

My website, meanwhile, had locked both me and my web designer out of it, and- already in a bad state of mind- I went into full on panic/paranoid spiral of 'they have hacked it, and they are going to delete any proof that I was here before them.' This of course wasn't true, and we have since recalimed control of the site (don't know what happened there but hey. it's fine???? haha. ha.)

On top of this my father has terminal cancer of the pancreas, which is horrible for everyone already but it means that- at some point this year- I am going to be the only person with an active income in my house. I am disabled, do not make a lot of money, and the cost of living is skyrocketing. Combine that with months of Despair at the world right now, with the multiple wars, genocide, corruption and AI and the loss of control any of us have over our IP or lives and I just decided it was time to end it all.

I somehow remembered this was a bad idea to act on immediately (hard during a period of entirely irrational thought) and instead went for a very long walk, crossed the bridge I could have jumped off and during that I came out of the worst of it. I then came back home to so much love online I felt deeply ashamed for ever contemplating it, and I cried a lot. My nose is still puffy and now my feet hurt! lmao

Anyway. Yeah. There's your context. I am not going to stop hoping, making, or living. I am prone to moments of weakness and this was one of the worst of them and I am still here, thanks in a large part to all of you. I might need you in the future to defend me against this, or people who take our ideas, but I hope you know that I will do the same for you. We need each other, and to be there for you I need to be here at all.

also fuck Mr Puzzles

[eve6262]

happy birthday komaeda

Someone sits on a ledge in a ruined city and thinks about jumping.

The fall is deadly. His body has always been weak, frail and untrustworthy; even his own luck couldn't save him. There's nothing soft down there, harsh edges and rusty rebar tempting him into a fate guaranteed. Few things in his life have been guaranteed, and something about that promise feels comforting, like it's the one thing he'll always have up his sleeve.

In his mind's eye, he jumps. He falls. His imagination has always been lively, but for some reason, this part is blank. "I die" is the only thing he can come up with- the image eludes him. He's scared, maybe, of truly seeing it- the same thing happened when he was kidnapped, mind hazy and gone, wondering: "what happens if he forgets to feed me?" He doesn't want to remember that.

He remembers it anyway, because the one thing the cancer refuses to take his is memory.

When Kamakura looked at him, he thought he might implode. Not for the reason the others thought- something about hope and despair and a name that tastes like sweet poison on his tongue. Not because he was infatuated, even if he is. Because Kamakura looked right through him and saw whatever vines twisted a thousand times over his heart and had the gall to say, "What was the diagnosis?"

He already knew. Komaeda doesn't know why he asked. But he did, and Komaeda answered, and then he huffed, turned on his heel, and walked away.

(That wasn't Komaeda. That was Servant, someone who doesn't exist, a shell of a person.)

Are the children looking for him? He doesn't care, and they don't care; this is a moment to himself, while everything falls apart around them. Monaca could manage on her own if she wished; there's a cruel boredom to her smile, but no matter what anyone seems to think, it's different. There's something hollow about it, something lonely, something sad. Something like the look in his own eyes when he smiles in the mirror.

And Towa City is at least calm. Already destroyed in some sense, largely intact in another. So of course he ended up here. There's no battle for him to fail through or politics to ruin. He just has to sit here, and mess up whatever job given to him, and be laughed at.

He thinks of a serial killer and writer sharing a body and laughs.

He thinks about Kamakura and stops.

He thinks about jumping.

---

"Komaeda, are you sure you're okay?"

They're sitting in a room together. Outside Future Foundation headquarters, but not far- they want to keep tabs on the group, considering heavily whether they'll be let in or not. Some are a given- Fuyuhiko, Hajime, Sonia. Others are questionable- Mikan, Teruteru, himself. Komaeda isn't sure what the suits think, but he imagines Hajime will be staunch about it, and he'll be let in as the group will. Even if he's only a patient for Mikan to fuss over when there's little to do, that's fine.

He has never minded being just a body for the machine. As long as the machine is working towards good ends, he can be a nothing gear.

"Of course. Don't worry about me."

To be specifically accurate, Hajime is half-sitting half-laying in bed, blearily looking at him from across the room, as Komaeda sits at a desk on a laptop. He woke up an hour ago and wanted to be busy with something, anything as a distraction, and he keeps the apartment spotless out of the same urge. But there isn't much work anyone piles onto him, so he's just sitting here, wondering a bit aimlessly why he opened the accursed thing.

Why he woke up is irrelevant, really. People wake up at four AM sometimes, it's nothing strange.

(He remembers stale wind and red skies, and a building, and thinking about plumetting. Except, in his dream, he actually falls, and falls, and falls, and then there's a spear in his heart and-)

Hajime closes his eyes, and falls back on the bed. Komaeda turns back to the laptop, and decides that if he can't do anything productive, he can at least try to bring Hajime's files into some semblance of order.

For a moment, he thinks that's all it'll be. And then he hears the blanket shuffle, and footsteps, and he says, "Am I keeping you up?"

"No," Hajime tells him, circling his arms around his front. Breath hitches in his throat- he can't stand to look back. Disappointment could fill his eyes, or annoyance furrow his brow, or pity worry at his lip, and all three of them would destroy him like a shattered porcelain doll. So he doesn't look back, even if he does sit back in the chair a little. "I'm not really sleepy anyway."

("I'm don't get tired easily," a quiet Kamakura tells him unprompted. He's rarely responding to questions, anticipating them and answering before they leave your lips. "They wanted efficiency." Servant hears what's unsaid and stores it in the shell he's got left of what he was.)

"Did you want to use the laptop?"

Silence meets him. Anxiety frays at his heart- what's Hajime thinking? Is he waiting? Hoping he'll come back to bed so he can make sure Komaeda is sleeping enough for his condition? That's Mikan's job, to worry over his health- he hopes Hajime isn't back to that old haunt that Kamakura used to take up when the two of them were in Towa City. To this day he isn't sure what about it drew the man in.

"You should tell me what it was," is what Hajime settles on.

Komaeda smiles. It's an instinct, like a deer in headlights; if something's too prying, smile and wave it away. "Nothing, really. Just couldn't sleep."

"...That's not true," Hajime insists. But there's sleep still stuck in his throat, thick and syrupy; if he plays his cards right. maybe Hajime will decide he's too much trouble and go back to bed.

("You're trouble," Kamakura states. It's not a question and doesn't sound like a complaint, and it's not like Servant could respond to such a thing while bedridden. There are more words, but sadly, his consciousness fails him, and they all sound like static.)

"...It's nothing I can't deal with myself. You should go to bed- you sound tired."

Hajime just makes a noise, properly bending down into a hug. His arms tighten, and Komaeda almost wants to look back, but doesn't. Now it feels like cheating, peering at an answer he's supposed to solve himself. And he's never been opposed, but the shame curls around him like a serpent.

"I'll join you in a minute," Komaeda promises.

"...I wasn't having a great dream either," Hajime tells him, and course he knew the whole time. It doesn't take a genius to have figured that out. But he was hoping it could be kept in its box where it's contained, not growing, simply existing. A therapist would tell him that's a bad idea, but Komaeda thinks he knows his own brain well enough to cope nowadays. "It was about Towa City."

"Ah."

"You were standing on a high rooftop. I was across the street in a building, watching from a window."

Komaeda puts a hand on his, tentatively and slowly, in case it'd be rejected. Hajime takes it in his, tight and secure. "You were looking down. And I couldn't move."

"And then?"

Hajime pauses. "And then I felt cold, so I woke up. I don't know what was going to happen."

"I see."

"But I think Kamakura does."

Komaeda says nothing. Kamakura's powers of observation are second to none, and of course the husk that Servant was never cared to hide anything he didn't need to. If Kamakura had looked at him for even a nanosecond while he was up on a building, he'd probably see the image in his mind.

(They're on top of one such building. Servant is staring at the edge in lieu of disgracing Kamakura with his eye. He does not notice the arm moving until it's already around his shoulder, tugging him closer. He assumes, in this moment, that Kamakura is cold, or maybe that he thought the ground was going to collapse that close to the edge.)

"You were thinking about jumping," Kamakura states plainly.

"Yes." Hiding from Kamakura is silly. It's like trying to socialize in a hospital bed. "Back then, anyways."

"Come to bed," he states plainly. "It is worse alone."

Komaeda obliges, because he knows there isn't much getting out of it. He shuts the laptop and gets up, Kamakura trailing him into the bed. Laying down is awkward, unsure of what Kamakura wants- which turns out to be fine, because he doesn't care much about taking it for himself, burying his face in Komaeda's neck and pulling him close.

It's warm. With whichever one of them- Hajime, Kamakura, both if they'd prefer that thought- it's hard to think about that moment, because in the memory it is cold and dry and distant and lonely, and now there is a beating heart so loud in his ears it's hard to think.

"...I am glad you never did," he says. "While I was there I would have stopped you. But there were moments you could have."

"There were," Komaeda says. And, truthfully, he thinks that black void is the reason he didn't. The lack of an idea, the sudden fear of the plunge when he imagined the end- Servant could only do things he could imagine, and he couldn't imagine the final moment. Even in the end, he was scared- it would make him hysterical if not for the calm, collected beating heart he feels under his hands. "...That's over now."

"Even if it isn't," Kamakura tells him, "I would rather know you are safe."

He thinks about saying something in response, but they really were tired. After a few more moments, their breathing evens out so suddenly he thinks Kamakura must be able to enter REM on command- the thought is almost funny.

But, really, it's hard to be distracted by anything when there's a beating heart so close to his own.

[cosmicgrapevine]

"You can see now why I don't tell 'em shit. Keith's a roid-raging jock dipshit, and my dad's got the imagination of a potato and would think it's all Satanism anyhow. 'Exciting' for him is like, golfing with his boss. If the Lost Kids hadn't scouted me, I'd be...I dunno. Nothing good."

"And your mom? If you don't..."

"Nah, it's fine. It's been five years. I'd like to say a Mire got her, and I've been, y'know, training for years to take revenge. But nope, just regular old shitty cancer. If she was still here, I'd...I'd tell her everything. She'd get it. Even if you hate your mom, at least she's..."

Tabby raised an eyebrow. "At least she's what?"

"Just, that's crazy, right? The dude who bashed her up in the '70s is the same guy we're fighting now? What if she was a Warden too, and that's why she got hit?"

"Trust me, no goddamn way," Tabby said. "I wish she was like your dad. Every time I talk to her, she's practically begging me to quit, you're too weak, you can't handle it, you know I'm right...she doesn't control my life anymore and she's so mad about it."

"Alright, shit," Kenny said. "Grass is always greener, I guess." He whistled. "Damn, a mobbed-up Fullmire. Wonder if Ryan knows anything."

"Ryan? From school?"

"Yeah, his dad's firm did plea deals for a bunch of old mob guys who 'retired' down here. I'm pretty sure one of them is Ryan's steroid hookup. Keith buys from him; I wasn't kidding about the roid rage. One time Keith couldn't pay and Ryan came over here and was freaking out. Like someone was gonna come after him."

Tabby sat up straight, stammering as a mental lightbulb clicked on. "D-dude, go get Jevon. I just figured something out."

Jevon was summoned from upstairs. Justin was not, but kept his face pressed to the back window anyway, in hopes of hearing something. "'Kay, so last Friday, Mel went out with Jordy, and they went to Scooter's. It was Ryan's idea, and he went with. Didn't even do any rides or anything. And that's where they found that photo." She paused, letting it sink in. "The storage place was a setup. Scooter's is their real base. Think about it. All those tents and trailers to hide stuff in, employees come and go all the time..."

Jevon nodded. "Think you're onto something," he said. "Alright. We'll sit on this until Mr. C and the rest get back from Equinox, then launch an assault."

"That's a week from now," Tabby said. "C'mon, the four of us, we can take him."

"Yeah, that's insane," Kenny said.

"You think so?" Jevon said. "Show me what you got."

Tabby unhooked her feather. Energy crackled around her as it grew. She tried to stay positive, and feed those emotions into the feather. But it was hard. It had been hard ever since the storage place. There was some kind of mental block. She couldn't imagine what. She had every reason to want to get better, to want to catch this bastard. But today the feather didn't believe her. With a cracking sound, it stopped growing and returned to normal.

"You see? You're not ready for combat. And that's fine," Jevon said to her embarrassed sulking. "No one's expecting you to be. But if you try this on your own, I will tell the higher-ups. And if you think you're in the doghouse now?"

"You're gonna tell? What is this, kindergarten? Anyway, I won't be alone: we've got a Markstepper too." She patted Lynd's leg and smiled.

He didn't return it. "They're right. This is a bad idea. The Sumacs are a powerful clan, and we still don't know their true intentions."

"Jesus, you too? How come I've got more balls than all three of you put together? How many people are gonna die while we sit on our asses, huh?"

"That's not why you wanna do this," Kenny said. "You wanna show off. You wanna be the star. I get it. I was like that when I joined."

"But then," said Jevon, with infuriating calm, "We learn that we check the Wards, we keep the peace, and we don't go charging into Markstepper turf--mob-backed Markstepper turf--just because we wanna be heroes. Now, you didn't get that training, 'cause you're special," he sneered. "So learn it now."

You're not some hero, you little shit! Rita's words came back to her. She kept her stare intense and her jaw tight.

"Wait, it's not even about that. This is about your mom," Kenny said. "You wanna get revenge?"

"Fuck revenge, she doesn't deserve revenge! Maybe I'll just tell him to finish what he started! I can get him to fuck up your brother, too, because you're apparently too much of a pussy to do it yourself."

The backyard was quiet, the pool filter bubbling away. "Come on, Tabby..." Lynd groaned. Kenny half smiled at her. "Actually, I think Keith had it right this time," he said. "'Who asked you, bitch?'"

[layce2015]

Supernatural (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader)

Phantom Traveler

Masterlist / Next Chapter

Bzzt...Bzzt...Bzzt...

Ugh...five more minutes....I thought as I turn in my bed. But my phone kept going off. "Fine..." I groaned then I turn over and grab the phone and answered it. "Hello?" I answered, trying to not sound annoyed.

"(Y/n), it's, uh, it's Jerry Panowski. You and your dad helped me out a few years back." Jerry said and I started to feel more awake.

"Oh, right, yeah. Up in Kittanning, Pennsylvania, the poltergeist thing. It's not back, is it?" I asked him, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. "No. No. Thank God, no. But it's something else, and...uh, I think it could be a lot worse." Jerry said and I furrow my eyes.

"What is it?" I asked him. There was a pause before he replies to me. "Can we talk in person?" He asked me.

After Jerry and I talked, I hang up the phone and go to the boys hotel room, which was next to mine. I knocked and Dean answers. "Oh, didn't expect you to be awake at this time of day." I said to him. "Yeah...well...college boy, here, woke me up and brought breakfast." Dean said and I looked inside and see Sam sitting on a chair, across from one of the bed.

"Everything okay, Sam?" I asked him. "Yeah...yeah...everything's fine." He said to me but I could feel some sort of tension between the boys. Obviously, they just had an argument so I sigh and continue on. "Anyway...I came here because I got us a job." I said and the boys look up at me.

****

"Thanks for making the trip so quick. I ought to be doing you guys a favor, not the other way around. (Y/n) and her dad really helped me out." Jerry said to the boys as we walked along the hallway. "Yeah, she told us. It was a poltergeist?" Sam asked him as a random guy pops up.

"Poltergeist? Man, I loved that movie." The guy exclaims. "Hey, nobody's talking to you. Keep walking." Jerry ordered the guy and he runs off.

Once he was gone, Jerry turns to us. "Damn right it was a poltergeist, practically tore our house apart." He said to the boys then turns to me. "Tell you something, if it wasn't for you and your dad, I probably wouldn't be alive." He said to me and I nodded while Iook to my side and see Dean giving me an impressed look.

I blushed at this as Jerry continues. "I tried calling your dad but it said his number is no longer in use. Is he okay?" He asked. "He, uh, he passed away last year." I said and Jerry's eyes widen.

"Oh God! I'm...I'm so sorry. What got him?" Jerry asked. "Cancer, of all things." I said and Jerry looks at me shocked.

"Oh crap. I'm so sorry." Jerry said and I nod at him. "It's okay. But I've got the Winchester brothers here. They're great at this type of job as well." I said. "Alright, well...I got something I want you guys to hear." Jerry said.

****

"I listened to this. And, well, it sounded like it was up your alley." Jerry said as he puts a CD in a drive. "Normally I wouldn't have access to this. It's the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia flight 2485. It was one of ours." Jerry said and he pushes the play button.

Mayday! Mayday! Repeat! This is United Britania 2485—immediate instruction help! United Britanis 2485, I copy your message—May be experiencing some mechanical failure...

Then there was a loud whooshing sound after it. "Took off from here, crashed about two hundred miles south. Now, they're saying mechanical failure. Cabin depressurized somehow. Nobody knows why. Over a hundred people on board. Only seven got out alive. Pilot was one. His name is Chuck Lambert. He's a good friend of mine. Chuck is, uh...well, he's pretty broken up about it. Like it was his fault." Jerry explains.

"You don't think it was?" Sam asked.

"No, I don't." Jerry said.

"Jerry, we're gonna need passenger manifests, um, a list of survivors." Sam said and Jerry nods.

"All right." He said.

"And, uh, any way we can take a look at the wreckage?" Dean asked him.

"The other stuff is no problem. But the wreckage...guys, the NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse. No way I've got that kind of clearance." Jerry said and I frown. "No problem." I said to him.

****

Sam and Dean were waiting by the car outside a Copy Jack. I was exiting the store when a very attractive man starts to enter the building. He looks up at me and smiles at me. "Hey." He greets. "Hi." I greet back, smiling as well. He winks at me and heads inside of the building while I turned around and look at the guy until he goes inside the building.

"You've been in there forever." Dean said to me as I walk over to them. And I don't know if it was me but he looked a bit annoyed. I smiled and hold up three IDs. "You can't rush perfection, honey." I said, teasingly, and I hand the IDs to them.

"Homeland Security? That's pretty illegal, even for us." Sam said as he takes the ID. "Yeah, well, it's something new. You know? People haven't seen it a thousand times." I said as Dean takes his ID and the boys get into the Impala while I lean in the driver's side window.

"All right, so, what do you boys got?" I asked them. "Well, there's definitely EVP on the cockpit voice recorder." Sam replied.

"Yeah?" I asked.

"Listen." Sam said and he plays the tape.

No survivors!

"No survivors?" I said, confused. "What's that supposed to mean? There were seven survivors." 

"Got us." Dean said as Sam shrugs. "So, what are you guys thinking? A haunted flight?" I asked them. "There's a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships, like phantom travelers." Sam said and I nodded. "Or remember flight 401?" Dean asked me.

"Right. The one that crashed, the airline salvaged some of its parts, put it in other planes, then the spirit of the pilot and copilot haunted those flights." I said.

"Right. Maybe we got a similar deal." Dean tells me.

"All right, so, survivors, which one do you guys want to talk to first?" I asked them.

"Third on the list: Max Jaffey." Sam said. "Why him?" I asked Sam. "Well, for one, he's from around here. And two, if anyone saw anything weird, he did." Sam said.

"What makes you say that?" I asked.

"Well, I spoke to his mother And she told me where to find him." Sam said.

****

"I don't understand. I already spoke with Homeland Security." Max said as we walk along the garden of the Psychiatric Hospital. "Right. Some new information has come up. So if you could just answer a couple questions..." Dean said to him. "Just before the plane went down, did you notice anything...unusual?" I asked Max.

"Like what?" Max asked. "Strange lights, weird noises, maybe. Voices." Dean said.

"No, nothing." Max replied. "Mr. Joffey—" Dean started to say but Max talks over him. "Jaffey." He corrected.

"Jaffey. You checked yourself in here, right?" Dean asked and Max nods. "Can I ask why?" Dean asked. "I was a little stressed. I survived a plane crash." Max replied.

"Uh huh. And that's what terrified you? That's what you were afraid of?" Dean asked.

"I...I don't want to talk about this anymore." Max said, nervously.

"See, I think maybe you did see something up there. We need to know what." Dean said to Max. "No. No, I was...delusional. Seeing things." Max said, shaking his head, as he starts to walk away from us.

"He was seeing things." Dean said to Sam and I and I catch up to Max.

"It's okay. Then just tell us what you thought you saw, please." I said to him, calmly and sweetly. Max looks at me then starts to stammer. "There was...this—man. And, uh, he had these...eyes—these, uh...black eyes. And I saw him—or I thought I saw him..." he said.

"What?" The boys and I asked. "He opened the emergency exit. But that's...that's impossible, right? I mean, I looked it up. There's something like two tons of pressure on that door." Max replied.

"Yeah." Dean mumbles.

"This man, uh, did he seem to appear and disappear rapidly? It would look something like a mirage?" I asked then Max looks over at me. "What are you, nuts?" He asked me and I tilt my head.

"He was a passenger. He was sitting right in front of me." He replied and I looked up at the boys.

****

"So here we are. George Phelps, seat 20C." Sam said after we pulled up to a house. "Hmm. Man, I don't care how strong you are. Even yoked up on PCP or something, no way you can open up an emergency door during a flight." Dean said as I got off my bike and they get out of the Impala.

"Not if you're human. But maybe this guy George was something else. Some kind of creature, maybe, in human form." Sam said then I pointed at the house. "Does that look like a creature's lair to you?" I asked him as the boys turn to look at the ordinary house.

****

"This is your late husband?" Sam asked Mrs Phelps as he holds up a framed photo. He, Dean and I were sitting in a couch across from her. "Yes, that was my George." She replied.

"And you said he was a...dentist?" Dean asked. "Mm-hm. He was headed to a convention in Denver. Do you know that he was petrified to fly? For him to go like that..." she said, sadly, as she shakes her head.

"How long were you married?" I asked her.

"Thirteen years." She replied.

"In all that time, did you ever notice anything...strange about him, anything out of the ordinary?" Sam asked her. "Well...uh, he had acid reflux, if that's what you mean." She replied and the boys and I exchanged looks.

****

"I mean it goes without saying. It just doesn't make any sense." I said to the boys as we walked out of the house, minutes later. "A middle-aged dentist with an ulcer is not exactly evil personified. You know what we need to do is get inside that NTSB warehouse, check out the wreckage." Dean said to us. "Okay. But if we're gonna go that route, we'd better look the part." I said to them.

The boys exit a store called MORT'S for style, both of them wearing crisp black suits with white shirts. Sam adjusts his collar while I, in a nice black dress pants and a white blouse with a black blazer, look over at them and smiled. But my heart leapt up to my throat when I saw Dean in the suit. He looked really, really, really good.

"Man, I look like one of the Blues Brothers." Dean grumbles as I walk up at them "No, you don't. You look more like a...seventh-grader at his first dance." Sam teases and Dean looks down at himself and I chuckle a bit.

"I hate this thing." He grumbles and I walked up at him.

"Hey. You want into that warehouse or not?" I asked him and he rolls his eyes 

"Hang on." I said and I go fix his tie as it looked off centered a bit while Sam goes to the Impala. I fixed Dean's tie then I looked up at him and the two of us look into each other's eyes. My heart pounding in my chest and I swallowed this lump in my throat as I remove my hand off of his tie and patted his chest.

"There. Now you look professional." I said and I noticed his eyes looking me over. I smiled then walked away and headed to my bike while Dean stands there for a moment then goes to the Impala.

****

We enter the warehouse and show our badges to the Secuirty guard, who nods and lets us in. We walk among plane wreckage; Dea  pulls out a device and puts earbuds in his ears.

"What is that?" Sam asked him.

"It's an EMF meter. Reads electromagnetic frequencies." Dean replied.

"Yeah, I know what an EMF meter is, but why does that one look like a busted-up walkman?" Sam said. "'Cause that's what I made it out of. It's homemade." Dean said as he grins.

"Yeah, we can see that." I said, raising an eyebrow at him, and Dean's grin disappears. He runs the EMF meter over a piece of the wreckage with yellow dust on it and gets an audible spike. "Check out the emergency door handle." He said as I scratch at the yellow dust and get some on my hand.

"What is this stuff?" I asked them.

"One way to find out." Sam said and he goes and scrapes some of the yellow dust off into a bag. After doing that, we heard footsteps coming towards us and we get the hell out of there.

****

Once outside, we peer around a corner and walk out casually. An alarm blares as we run to the gated exit. Pulling off his suit jacket, Dean throws it over the barbed wire at the top of the fence, and we climb over. Then he grabs the jacket. "Well, these monkey suits do come in handy." Dean said as we run off.

*****

Jerry looks at the yellow stuff through a microscope. "Huh. This stuff is covered in sulfur." He said. "You're sure?" Sam asked. "Take a look for yourself." Jerry said when banging sounds come from outside of the office and someone curses.

"If you guys will excuse me, I have an idiot to fire." Jerry said and he leaves while I go over and look into the microscope. "Hmm. You know, there's not too many things that leave behind a sulfuric residue." Dean said as I look through the microscope.

"Demonic possession?" Sam said and I nod.

"It would explain how a mortal man would have the strength to open up an emergency hatch." I said as I move away from the scope.

"If the guy was possessed, it's possible." Sam said.

"This goes way beyond floating over a bed or barfing pea soup. I mean it's one thing to possess a person, but to use them to take down an entire airplane?" Dean said, confused.

"You guys ever heard of something like this before?" Sam asked Dean and I. "Never." We replied.

*****

The boys and I were in full research mode, with images and articles taped to the walls and strewn across the beds. Sam and I were looking at something on our computers while Dean was reading something on one bed. "So, every religion in every world culture has the concept of demons and demonic possession, right? I mean Christian, Native American, Hindu, you name it." Sam said.

"Yeah, but none of them describe anything like this." I said to him.

"Well, that's not exactly true. You see according to Japanese beliefs, certain demons are behind certain disasters, both natural and man-made. One causes earthquakes, another causes disease." Sam said.

"And this one causes plane crashes?" Dean asked as he gets up. "All right, so, what? We have a demon that's evolved with the times and found a way to ratchet up the body count?" I asked as I look over at Sam. "Yeah. You know, who knows how many planes it's brought down before this one?" Sam asked and Dean snorts and turns away.

"What?" Sam and I asked him.

"I don't know, guys. This isn't our normal gig. I mean, demons, they don't want anything, just death and destruction for its own sake. This is big. And I wish Dad was here." Dean grumbles.

"Yeah. Me too." Sam said and I sighed.

"I wish my dad was here. He knew how to handle demons better than anyone I know." I said when my phone rings.

"Hello?" I answered.

"(Y/n), it's Jerry." Jerry said.

"Oh, hey, Jerry." I said to him.

"My pilot friend...Chuck Lambert is dead." Jerry informs me, quickly. "Wha—Jerry, I'm sorry. What happened?" I asked, confused, and the boys look over at me.

"He and his buddy went up in a small twin about an hour ago. The plane went down." Jerry replied.

"Where'd this happen?" I asked him. "About sixty miles west of here, near Nazareth." Jerry said and my eyes widen at this.

"I'll try to ignore the irony in that." I muttered. "I'm sorry?" Jerry said. "Nothing. Jerry, hang in there, all right? We'll catch up with you soon." I said and I hang up and look at the boys.

"Another crash?" Sam asked and I nodded at them. "Let's go." I said, standing up. "Where?" Dean and Sam asked. "Nazareth." I replied and we get into the Impala, leaving my bike there at the hotel.

[regular-lord-reckoner]

okay, i'm back (for a second anyway, hello)

i'm feeling a bit better since last time i wrote, so that's something.

i finally have some good news for a change!!!

i had my second ultrasound with my gyn and got to actually meet with the doctor afterwards and they went over everything with me a lot more in depth and didn't give me any push back on not wanting kids, they just explained to me what my best option would actually be considering all my symptoms given what's going on

from my second ultrasound they did still see what looks like a polyp so now given that i have a history of polyps an ablation wouldn't really be the best option because if they needed to go in again to biopsy or if there was bleeding it would be harder to tell what was going on because of that and it also apparently wouldn't help that much with the rest of my period symptoms considering it's not a guarantee that it'd stop them completely, it would just lessen it significantly but if i'm looking to stop all of it that's not really going to be my best option

so!! the plan right now is this: on the 9th i'm going to go in and they're going to put me to sleep (FINALLY)

just kidding, but they are going to do a dnc, get that polyp and all that stuff in there out and send that off to be biopsied just to make sure nothing's cancer-y in there and for the time being and while i'm still fucking asleep they're going to stick an iud up in there !!

and honestly......truthfully....if they find something on the biopsy that warrants me getting the whole thing taken out/shut down, that's fine by me as well, let's go.

if not, we'll just....let 41 year old me deal with getting that iud replaced but that at least will hopefully give me a few years peace of mind and hopefully....................less or even no periods, please god

i'm on one currently and i just...no more. i'm not even able to take those big ass pills i mentioned before because i'm off a lot of vitamins and whatnots to get ready for my procedure and that one can be bad for clotting so i can't take it and am getting the full thing this time (i also feel like it just....knows something's about to happen and it's fighting back)

but yeah, i can definitely live with that plan and i feel like i'm in good hands with this doctor so finger's crossed everything goes well and this works out and hopefully too this will help some with my mental health because i do think that's been contributing to some of what i've been going through/feeling lately

i think some of it too is probably just good old burnout as per usual. i realized why i fell into that pattern of taking long breaks from work which ended up screwing myself over, but it was because sitting there for several hours straight and feeling like i have to focus on just this one thing and one thing only and even then there aren't enough hours in the week to get it all done and it just compounds and leaves me drained

like yeah, neither schedule was ultimately doing me any good, but at least i wasn't as exhausted before. i'm sure i'll figure this out eventually even if it does mean changing jobs or just...something.

for now i still thinking getting a second job is going to be my best bet, especially now that i'm adding more medical debt to my plate, like something's gonna have to give or these grocery stores are going to have to lower their prices quickly because it's uh....rough without those extra ten hours every week now.

i'll figure it out and the good news is i have a week off coming up so hopefully that'll help me reset and give me time to really think about what i want my next move to be here as far as managing all of this.

i'll also be taking that time off because it's right around the first anniversary of my dad's passing and i know i'm probably making it bigger in my head than it really ought to be, but it's been like a jumpscare in my head every time i think about how it's already been a year

being that this month is that and then a week later his birthday i just...am not looking forward to it because i know i'm just going to be a mess and while it would probably be a good distraction for me to work and focus on other things, i just....don't want to.

if maybe i can just be really, really fucking sad for a whole week and feel whatever i need to feel and process all of that maybe then i can finally start to get better and get back to myself and life and everything, but for right now i'm just dreading it and bracing myself as best as i can.

anyway, didn't really want to end on a downer note, but i guess that's just what's been going on lately. overall, though, i am excited about this procedure as weird as that may sound and i'm really hoping it'll be a good thing

i'm going to try to continue taking it easy and getting as much rest as i can because that's what my body is begging me for and being that this procedure is gonna have me at the hospital at 5 fucking am on a friday after another long week of work i'm all for that so back to rest mode i go and hopefully next time you hear from me i'll have even more good news :3

hope you're all doing well <3

[bitchy-peachy]

Update:

One of my tenants is a nurse and she's gonna help teach me how to put special shots on my stomach (my doctor prescribed shots to deal with my chemo better).

My pharmacy delivered the shots home personally and now they're in the fridge waiting for tomorrow.

I have chemo on Monday so yay I guess.

Sorry I haven't talked to anybody but I'm trying to learn how to calm myself down cos my drug induced depression really made me asocial af.

Thanks to my studies I know what's my real emotions and what are drug induced ones. I would never recommend self-diagnosis but considering the knowledge I have... yeah, I went down that route and gave my self-diagnosis to a psychiatrist as well as a med list i believed would help me and she listened to me unlike the male doctor I was given the first time.

So I'm on my way to getting better.

My steroids caused me the most hard-core depression that my teen suicidal tendencies had returned with a vengeance so bad that my head doctor had to take me off steroids earlier than expected.

I'm getting better now but now I'm starting to feel my REAL depression. No suicidal tendencies or anything... just feeling very exhausted and unworthy of the care I'm getting cos people are too damned good to my messy ass and i don't know how to handle kindness so i cry like an idiot.

It'll take awhile for the effects of the steroids to be completely out of my system and my prescribed meds to start finally kicking in so I'll be gloomy for awhile longer. (Weeks or months even. This is why I hate steroids)

I wanna handle this depression first before resuming my regular social activities again cos I feel like I'm unintentionally dragging people down into my misery and I feel even worse for it.

I don't want pretend to be happy. I want genuine happiness. My family knows when I'm faking shit. They don't like it and call me out pretty fast.

I'll need to take my percocet at 10 cos my doctor wasn't around all week and couldn't give me the pain patches that really took my hip pain away like a switch.

Strangely I'm walking better and am managing to cook, but I need my roller walker to move but I'm doing a lot stuff on my own. (Still need some assistance but not as much as before so that's good I guess)

The pain is bad when I wake up, sit on the edge of the bed and stand up. After that if I'm walking or standing for awhile... I'm fine.

Made Luthian and I some Mediterranean sandwiches since I've changed my diet for a "cancer friendly" one and we were by ourselves in the house. Turns out Luthian loves my diet so every time I say I'm preparing something, they ask me to make extra and they gobble it all up. First time I've seen them eat that fast. 🤣 Gotta sneak out of my room to make us more food since relatives don't want me outta my bed. If I had gotten busted I wouldn't been allowed to cook, lol. I like cooking new recipes as soon as I learn them (found a sweet soup dumpling recipe I wanna try. I can't fry them but I can boil for my soups and homemade sauces)

That's a good food for Luthian too. These diets not only fight cancers but also prevents them so my kid being healthier makes me a lot calmer. They tend to be picky with food and now they eat and leave the plate clean... so I guess my kid just needed different foods with different spices.

Unto other things: My arms get tired quickly but it's cos I'm using them a lot. 😔😥 I need the exercise and I know it but damn my shoulders pop so loud whenever I roll them after doing strenuous activities. My whole skeleton is an orchestra.

Then there's the tiredness.

Like "lifting my whole body weight with my noodle arms" kinda tired. (Quite literally. I'm like teke-teke lifting my entire body, useless leg and all, with my arms. If i start walking with my hands only i know Luthian would hate my guts cos they fear teke-teke big time)

Anyways, my pills are giving me hot flashes again and I feel strangely horny by myself in here. I'm hoping it passes quickly cos I know it's another drug induced thing.

Like what's up with that? My doctor told me my estrogen restricting pills could take or lower my libido completely due to early menopause (It stopped my period since last year)...

Another doctor told me I could have a different reaction sexually... like a higher sex drive despite no longer ovulating since every woman takes to hormone treatments differently.

These reactions are so damned weird.

Well that's all for now. Hopefully my chemo on Monday won't fuck me up like the last one that literally gave me a severe gastritis that had me hospitalized for 8 days. (No freaking joke. That's why I lost 40 pounds so fast. 😭)

PS: checked my newest percocet instructions and the doc had actually upped it to twice the dose in less time. Damn, I must have looked like shit... my family said I'm looking better since getting my gastritis taken care off but the doctor really went "you need stronger meds asap!"

Took them properly now. Within 40 or so minutes I'll feel numb af. Might bother people on whatsapp until I pass out. I get chatty af when on pain meds.

[an-aura-about-you]

so MY day blew absolute chunks!

under the cut for sickness both human and animal, vomit mention, family trouble, a near accident, and general unpleasantness.

-started the day kinda lazy and late since I was sick Sunday and part of Monday. ended up starting it so late that by the time I fed the cat he wolfed it down too fast and vomited it back up. :( so that was a thing I had to clean up before leaving.

-got a message from my sibling that our mother is Losing Her Goddamn Mind. what's going on is she's started drinking again, and this is apparently the final straw for Dad, who has decided a separation is in order for him to establish proper boundaries. so he and my sibbie are moving out into an apartment. so our mother swung right into angry and controlling and straight up said my sibling was "trying to steal her husband." a quick bullet list on that:

What??

Ewwwww!

NO!

WHAT??????????????

anyway, I told my sibbie they could use my spare keys to stay at my place if they like while I'm out at the office.

-leave for work with the bare minimum of what I need for the day to be okay: my laptop, lanyard, phone, headphones, cane, and half a bottle of Gatorade. I don't bring a lunch, a reusable cup, any of my herbal teas I use to make flavored water, and my money situation is so tight that buying lunch means it's going on the credit card. but at this point I'm like, "fuck it, I'll buy lunch."

-one bit of luck: at the lunch kiosk they're selling chicken gumbo, so I get a cup of that and it's not too pricey AND it tasted good. also earlier I overheard the lady who works there talkin' nice about me behind my back after I came in and wished the crew there good morning. (I pass the lunch kiosk on the way to the elevators.)

-the site to clock in and out was malfunctioning for me most of today. I had to send an email for FOUR missing punches, the most I've ever had to deal with. at least I can back up my presence with the group chat, my badging in and out of the office, and witnesses.

-I got some texts from the social committee, which was fine that they got to do the Valentine's Day treat bags for all our neighbors, but I was sad that I was too sick on Sunday and working yesterday and today, so I couldn't help put them together or pass them out. :( (I did get mine when I got home and it was very cute!)

-lunch time rolls around, so I go out to a nice coffee shop and get some tea. there was construction on my way, so I try looking into an alternate path back to the office. once I realized that path would take longer than going through the construction again, I turn around and on my way back I NEARLY GOT HIT BY A CAR TURNING LEFT INTO THE ROAD???? AND THEY HAD THE NERVE TO HONK AT ME LIKE I WASN'T SUPPOSED TO BE THERE WHEN THEY WERE THE ONE TURNING?????????

-I get some extra work tonight because even though I'm not doing my day team's banks this week, I'm learning how to hand them out AND a night team coworker had some connection issues so I had to do two of her banks.

-I also found out that the coworker who does the day team banks this week will be out tomorrow, so I WILL have to do the day team banks then.

-all after my last break, I heard my bothersome coworker talk on and on about her conservative politics, cooking info that I know from my Le Cordon Bleu background doesn't work with the science, and medical misinformation that will likely get her killed. this is the same person who has a "strongly held religious belief against wearing masks" and "believes parasites cause cancer." her latest take is that sugar causes all ills. arthritis? sugar. dementia? sugar. glaucoma? sugar. like, what????? is any of this actually proven? by a reputable source?

-when I got home I found that the cat coughed up a hairball on my comforter. :(

[treadmilltreats]

Living with osteoporosis

So if you know me or follow me, you know that I am a workout queen. I have been working out since I was in high school. Way before, it was popular for women to be at the gym, yes, back in the dinosaur days. I am up every morning at 5:00 a.m. to work out.

I lift weights, I do yoga, I do my TRX machine, I do Pilates, I ride my bike and walk every day. I've even tried aerial yoga, pole dancing, and boxing. You name it, I've done it, it's just who I am.

I also eat right, I pack my own breakfast and lunch, and I don't eat out for dinner except for once a week. My food is as clean as possible. I hardly eat anything bad unless I'm going home, and then, of course, all bets are off. What do you expect? I am a New Yorker.

So you would think being this healthy I would not be the type of person to get osteoporosis but guess again. When the doctor told me this, I was shocked. Then the doctor said I should go on a once a month shot called Evenity as this would bring up my bone density levels.

I researched it, it seemed good and I decided to do it. When I went back a year later for my bone scans, I went from osteoporosis to osteopenia. Great, I thought, it worked, and it was good. Then the doctor said I should now go on another drug called Prolia, a every 6 month shot. I would have to be on it for the next 4 years, and then my bone density would stay at the rate it's at now.

So because I trusted her from the first shot, I didn't do my own research and shame on me because everybody has to be their own health advocate in this day and age. The drug companies are just trying to push their drugs and make more money, and the doctors are probably getting kickbacks for the drugs they're pushing. Don't believe me? There's many documentaries, especially on Netflix, about this. This is not a conspiracy theory. By no means, the drug companies don't care about anyone but the bottom line.

Anyway, I decided to go and get the shot. I was fine after the first shot. It wasn't until months later that I felt really sick. I was tired all the time, and my body ached, I just didn't feel like me. I was gaining weight and I couldn't understand why as I was exercising more and counting everything I ate. Then I went to every doctor and had every kind of blood test and test done to find out the reason. I never associated it with the shot I had months ago.

I was shocked when everything came back saying that I was healthy, but I sure as hell didn't feel healthy. Before I was the Energizer Bunny, everybody would tell me that I would go and go and go, but now I could hardly pick my head up off the pillow. Some days, I had to drag my ass out of bed at 5:00 a.m.

and it was killing me just to get through the day.

Then I was on Facebook, and I happened to see something about osteoporosis. I started going down this rabbit hole, learning about the drug that they gave me from others' experiences. It was because I did not research this on my own that I came to find out that this drug has way more side effects than what is actually treating the problem.

These side effects include not being able to just get off of this drug because if you do, you'll have bone breakage. (Something it's supposed to help!!!)

It also makes your cholesterol higher and your blood pressure higher. You have a higher risk of heart attack and breast cancer, plus all the things I was experiencing.

I was so angry that the doctor never explained any of this to me. She never told me about all the risks, she never told me this was a “Black box” drug meaning the FDA made them put this warning that it was one of the worst drugs on the market. But shame on me, I should have done my own research like I always do but sometimes you get complacent and you trust the person that's supposed to be the expert, that was definitely the wrong move.

So today, my friends, my advice to you is to do your research, ask the questions, and dig deep into the medicines they are so quick to hand out. The pharmaceutical companies don't care about you. The doctors are too busy to care, only you care about you. Be your own advocate, and if you're like me, decide to go the all natural way instead. I am hoping that maybe this will help others before it's too late.

Like I tell you all the time, only you can be the change you want to see.

@TreadmillTreatsCheck out my daily blogs @ https://treadmilltreats.blogspot.com/?m=1

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[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

No but really I spent the last 4 days trying to get my spine to un-swell, and then yesterday I did what I thought was a 'short' walk to drop off the mail and buy some stuff and that RUINED my calf muscle entirely somehow, and the walk was longer than I thought... and I woke up today barely able to walk, but I had to walk over 2 and a half hours to make my appointment today and drop off a USB to get some medical records...

And I'm not even next day stiff and sore yet, but oh fuck I do not think I will be able to move.

All I did was a bit of light cleaning and some walking... But like, also I should not be doing 20 minutes of walking at once, let alone hours of it. I can feel the swelling and stiffness developing in my spine and legs and even my arms, so bad.

My left bicep keeps cramping up for no good reason at all, and now I just used my right arm to take some of my walking weight enough to get blisters on that hand.

I can't even switch hands when using my cane because my left wrist is so messed up inside. Multiple cysts and the larger fluid filled something that at least isn't cancer, confirmed. But something is just tearing apart the connective tissue in my left wrist specifically.

So they say the IUD is in a good place but I have a cyst on my right ovary again. That explains the recent pain in my right ovary. None of that explains the iud strings going missing or the bleeding every time I have an orgasm, but nothing is like *wrong*TM, so whatever, I don'te care. Maybe my muscles are just contracting hard enough to press vascular tissue against the plastic of the iud or something? They don't care enough to investigate and I'm to tired to care if it isn't serious.

I literally don't care about the pain, I just don't want cancer or permanent damage.

She says she'll ask for me about whether they'd operate on my wrist with only local anesthetic. She would NOT fucking let me see my usual dermatologist about the skin things I am worried about but says I can see the one at their clinic and they can freeze things off for me. I want them surgically removed and biopsied, really, but she just will not leave that up top my usual dermatologist. She is a nurse but she is gatekeeping me seeing the actual expert. I scheduled that for over a month from now because I will not go in later than 9 am and I will not be able to walk for a while.

They're about to not be my doctor's office soon anyway, one way or another, I needed to find a new family doctor regardless. Maybe one a bit fucking closer. idk...

Anyway,

I think I saved my right ankle from the worst of the walking consequences, but I still don't know if I'll be able to walk or move around much by tomorrow.

I don't know why I am in so much extra pain even compared to my usual levels and even for this level of activity.

Maybe it's the one change I made before the vitamin... For the past week and a half I have been having a lot of lactose in the sweetened condensed milk, because I am out of cream. The level of iodine seemed to be fine so far, but I was wondering why I wasn't reacting more strongly to the lactose. The digestive reaction has been weirdly minimal and it's full of extra added lactose as the sugar that's added to it. Maybe it's having other full body effects? I have no clue.

Did you know that walmart sells fucking wheelchairs on their online store? You can just fucking buy those.

If I keep having pain weeks like this I am going to start considering it. Just trying to hold my cane and the umbrella for shade today made it so I couldn't give either arm any kind of break, I still went half blind from the sun, and I can't really stop walking to rest because the change in position in my muscles and joints hurts worse somehow. I can't fucking walk or see anything and this city isn't even particularly walkable. There's also some big ass hills going on and the only way around them makes your walk like way longer. No fucking benches, and certainly none in any measure of shade.

Anyway I need a nap T~T

[deeisace]

So the other day I was in my grandad's spare room ringing the doctors

Trying to ring the doctors, they were not answering

So I could still hear the conversation in the living room?

And it was something vaguely about how my gran (Big Into Organised Religion) is a little less fussed about stuff now (less 'oh my goodness!!' and more 'ah well *shrugs*' §), tho nobody's um brought up me ∆ yet

And how to address that topic? Because she has absolutely no frame of reference? Because of the cult? Witnesses, y'know. They're like Mormon Lite™ in some ways. In some ways, not very light. Anyway

Anyway my grandad ° goes, "trouble is, there's nothing in the bible to use as comparison"

Because that would help? I guess? To have something to point to? Idk man the lady's 70 and hides from trick-or-treaters ♪, that's what we're dealing with here

My grandad's also 70, and has been overwhelmingly positive, but then he's had 40 years in the world« , so I guess that helps - he loves my new name, and he changed my contact in his phone as soon as I told him and has been making HRT jokes at me ∞

Anyway like, there must be examples somewhere in the bible? Right?

I'm not going to slog through reading the half-made Polari bible I have myself, because looking at it makes me sad I haven't finished it, and also gives me Kingdom Hall flashbacks, but I might have a google

Not a google, cs google's fulla shit, but a search

Wasn't there that poem, the Jewish trans lady who's name I've forgotten, something about how gd says we should be smth or other for the sweet and the bitter so I'll praise him for making me a man? I'm sure she Π mentioned Leah? But that's not a story I know *, I'll look it up

§ maybe the last 40 years of family/religion bullshit, maybe grief cs her mum died in September, maybe that she's got a buncha cancer atm, idk, I haven't spoke to her much yet, but I figure all of that kinda makes The Rules mean a little less, even if she's definitely where I get my autism from

∆ that I'm queer and trans - whenever anyone talks about The Situation to me, they always go "I haven't spoke to her about. . . You." But blah blah blah

° ex-Elder, never bothered (in the intervening 40 years) training himself out of talking like a priest, even if he never actually believed

♪ turns all the lights off and pretends she's not in, cs Halloween is a pagan practice just like Christmas, so

« out of the JWs

∞ 100% absolutely fine, the way we show love in my family is by ripping the shit out of each other, I expect nothing less or I'd feel rejected, lmao

Π piece of paper headed "trans historian licence" reading "I can say what I want" (I am Making A Joke, shurrup, I know we can't prescribe modern thinking and labels to historical figures, I know I can't really claim to be a historian - I am a hobby genealogist at best, and I've got a Modern History A-level only because my college stopped offering Archaeology the same year I attended)

* blocked out of my memory since I dropped out of the first year of my World Religions degree

[okaeri-ossan]

So my sis and I were hot off the high of the glorious trainwreck that is Charlotte (godbless godbless) and we thus bundled up to tackle The Day I Became A God, yet another Jun Maeda original. After watching Mr. Charlotte go full incel and nearly bump some magic white powder just to be saved by actual pizza sauce, we were ready for ass. Ass it was. It's getting worse. Charlotte is Jun Maeda critical mass, Kamisama is Jun Maeda meltdown.

mother freaking eggs.

Before starting the show, good ol' sis and I made a checklist with some predictions:

- the first half will be composed of useless, haphazard anime homies who get sudden dramatic backstories that have nothing to do with their character which is fine because they will all be disposed of anyway

- the second half will be a hard tone/genre shift that narrows the focus down to like one guy as something needlessly cruel occurs

- nonsensical superficially complex supernatural bullshit

- underaged girl gets anime cancer or something

- boy and gril fall in love becos romac...

- despite the supposed wholesome atmosphere, the characters are actually bad and selfish people

- deeply pervy gag with big ick even by the usual anime standards

- BASED GAY CHUUNI SWEEP

- fucking baseball

- no thing matters

So I don't think I need to tell you that the checklist summarized the show. It was somehow worse than everything else I've seen from him, it was seriously to the point where it wasn't even a story-- just a bland, confused collection of anime tropes stitched together thoughtlessly. Like, Kamisama doesn't even have characters. There's a guy named Nakajima and Ashura and there's Izunami and such, but they aren't... anything. I think they're childhood friends, they keep telling me that, but I don't really see it (Ashura looked really gay for a second there but it doesn't matter because I didn't see them hang out and he was tossed away in the second half). I'm told Nakajima likes Izunami and that Izunami likes baseball and movies, but none of it really shows. I genuinely don't think Jun Maeda knows how to write. He's always struck me as insecure-- he writes about childish little girls getting horribly punished by the heavens in needlessly cruel ways because it's the only way he knows he thinks can pull an emotion out of us.

It's just a stupid anime by a stupid writer and I actively walked into this knowing that it was going to fall apart. I wanted to see how bad it got. But it gives me a lot to think about. Does anybody even like this? This hollow show with shells of people, crippled by superficial tragedy? I guess I have a genuine hope that people find better art out there.

Anyways let's get Jun Maeda out of vn work and into the world of original anime I've never been more entertained

blew through 10 episodes of kamisama ni natta hi with sis and I think it's one of the few times in my life where I can say I've actively wasted my time

[thebigsl33p]

You Are Sick and You're Married, and You Might Be Dying. (Part two)

Part one.

Really I wanted to title this after Andromeda by Weyes Blood, "Treat me right, I'm still a good man's daughter. Let me In If I break and be quiet if I shatter." But it's easier if it has the same title as the one before. Maybe I'll do another one with that title. TW: angst, death, cancer, realistic Chemo (as close as I could get it anyways), Morpheus. No happy ending.

Things had been hard.

Y/N had been given two choices, Chemotherapy or to just…leave it. To let the Cancer exist and spread to her lymph nodes, slowly kill her. She thought about it, she really did. It would be easier, peaceful and on her own terms. Joanna assured her that whatever she chose she would be by her side, and Y/N had no doubt. So when she chose Chemo, Joanna did everything in her power to make sure she was comfortable.

It was the least she could do with the guilt she was carrying. She knew Y/N wasn't going to make it, a demon's curse is a demon's curse. And she felt awful. But she didn't want her girl to hate her, so she didn't bring it up.

The Doctors had told them about what to watch out for. How Y/N would be sensitive to the cold, it could cause pins and needles or make her throat feel like it was closing up so they should always have gloves, a scarf and a bottle of warm water after a Chemo session.

They had also told the couple about how food might taste different for Y/N and may even have a different texture. And how she could be sick or feel nauseous. And should anything feel off at all she was to call 111. They would give her the best advice, tell her whether she should to to the hospital or not.

The Chemo was spread across every other week.

Y/N was sitting in a chair in the Chemo section of the hospital she was in, wearing one of Joanna's shirts and a cardigan. She had a pick in her arm and a bag of chemicals hanging over her head. Her girlfriend was sitting in a chair next to her, and they were chatting about shit TV when her phone went.

Y/N saw her go to decline it, "Joanna, you're allowed to accept phone calls, y'know? I know you don't think of it this way, but you do actually have a job, that you are allowed to attend." She reminded her.

"Fine." Joanna accepted the call and sat there for a while, just humming in agreement before hanging up, "They want me for an exorcism this evening. Someone high class."

"Royal?" Y/N laughed.

"Probably. But I can cancel if you don't want me going. Like seriously, they can pull someone else in. The only reason I took it was because they're paying a lot." She explained.

"Joanna it's fine. I'll probably be tired when I get back home, so I'll just sleep while you're gone sweetheart. Don't fret."

***

Joanna had been to this church many times.

Outside, was the local crazy, Hettie, who Joanna loved to bits. She always had a bit of mystic or occult gossip. The woman was two hundred and eight after all.

And this time, it was about The Sandman, something that Joanna was sure was nothing more than a fairy story.

"He's back.." Hettie slurred.

Joanna laughed, "Who's back Hettie?" 

"Why Morpheus of course."

"Morpheus?" "The king of nightmares. The sandman."

"The sandman's nothing but a fairytale hettie." Joanna laughed.

"Mark my words girl, The Sandman's back, and he wants his sand." Hettie looked over Joanna's shoulder and started giggling.

Joanna turned around, to see what Hettie was having a look at and there on the steps of the church she was about to go into was a man, who she would describe as goth. He looked a bit like an emo teenage boy…but with more style.

"Who are you?" Joanna's eyebrows raised at the man and he began to speak something about dreams and nightmares and sand, but she stopped him, "Look, that's nice and all but I have an exorcism to do and a girlfriend to get back too." She pushed past him.

Joanna would've been eternally grateful for that night.

The night she partnered up with The Sandman to get his bag of sand from an ex-girlfriend of hers who had destroyed herself with it. He had made sure she died peacefully and happily.

And that was when Joanna had an idea.

As they were leaving her ex's house, Joanna turned to Morpheus, "I'm going to ask you a favour." She said, "I don't care what the price is I just…need this. My girlfriend Y/N has cancer. She doesn't know it yet, but…the chemo's not gonna make a change. She's dying and it's my fault. What you did to Rachel in there, could you do that for her? Or maybe put a word in with Death when the time comes? Make sure she's comfortable?"

"Yes." He answered, his eyes showing pity for her, "One day I'll call on you."

In that moment he was the patron saint of Lovers. Forget valentine.

***

The Chemo was doing very little. If anything it was making it worse. Months later, Y/N had shaved her hair and had lost weight. She looked pale and tired.

The doctor's didn't see much point in continuing with the sessions. Instead they gave Y/N some meds and sent her home under the care of her girlfriend.

The moment they got home, Joanna put Y/N into bed before going to make some food.

Just as she was about to leave the bedroom, Y/N called her back, "Joanna. Please, sit with me."

"…Okay." Joanna turned around and took her side of the bed, "What's up?"

"I know." She said, "I know I had no chance of living…" She admitted, "The night you called me…worried. I thought if I did the Chemo it might make both of us feel better, might let me live a little longer. When I go-"

"Y/N, no." Joanna took her hand.

"When I go, I don't want you to feel bad. Alright?"

"Alright. I'm sorry."

"I know, it's okay. I know you only tried to do what was best."

Y/N barely lasted the rest of the week. She was fading away, finding it harder and harder to wake up, sleeping more, eating less.

And then, one warm summer evening, she was awake again. Joanna could hear her mumbling to herself from the kitchen, chatting away. And just as she went to check on her, there was a knock at the door.

Joanna sighed and went to open it and there on the other side was The Sandman. And she knew what that meant, and she knew who Y/N was talking too.

Together, the Exorcist and The Endless walked into their bedroom to see Y/N sitting up in bed and a black woman sitting on the end of it, her legs crossed like a child.

"I didn't think there was much point in hiding." She shrugged, "You've already met my brother." She turned to Y/N, "You've got a real amazing one here, I wish I could let you keep her a little longer."

"Joanna, come sit with me." Y/N smiled as Joanna took a seat on her side of the bed, "Are you okay?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" Joanna was beginning to sniffle.

"You know that's not how we work." She laughed before wiping her Love's eyes, "Don't cry Sweetheart. It's not worth it." Her eyes flicked up, "I take it you're Dream? Your sister told me you'd be coming."

"Yes. I'm here to make sure your happy when you go. It's the least I could do for Joanna." he sighed.

"Well, I think I'm ready." She smiled at her girlfriend, "In the end, was it a Royal?"

"Yeah." Joanna smiled through the overflow of tears.

"I love you." She kissed her cheek.

"I love you too."

And then Morpheus was gone, Death was gone and so was Y/N. And with all three of them they took Joanna's will to live.

The world would never shine as bright again as it did when she was besides Y/N.

Her wonderful, beautiful Y/N.

[tracidant]

Trigger warnings for Major Character Death, Cancer (nothing graphic at all)

Prompt - Bruce has incurable (by normal medical standards) brain or whatever cancer.........AND GO!!!

LEGACY

When Bruce let the family know his  diagnosis - inoperable brain cancer - he wasn't surprised by their reactions. Dick immediately contacted Superman. "He's your best friend and has x-ray vision. Maybe he can see what normal medical imaging can't and zap the cancer out." Tim contacted Michael Holt, aka Mr. Terrific, at S.T.A.R. Labs. Jason contacted Kori to see about using her old ship's healing chamber. Duke contacted Jefferson Pierce, to see if perhaps his ex-wife, Dr. Lynn Stewart, a neuroscientist, could help. Stephanie contacted her mom, a nurse at Gotham General. And of course, Damian contacted Talia.

"No Lazarus Pit."

"But Father, it will heal you. You aren't dead, so the...side effects...would be minimal, and certainly preferable to the alternative."

"No."

Cass made a call too. She left the room, and Bruce figured she just needed time. He'd wait a bit to go check on her.

While talking to Clark, who was nearly in tears, "There's nothing even I can do, Bruce. I'm sorry," he saw Cass return.

With Harley Quinn.

Cass motioned for everyone to leave the room, and Alfred suggested sandwiches in the kitchen. He figured no one would eat, but maybe it would give them a distraction.

"Hey, Bruce. Cass told me what was up. She thought maybe you'd want to talk to someone. I know I'm not a doctor any more, but I still have all the knowledge, and it's not like you're a traditional guy anyway, so how about we sit and chat a bit."

"Harley, I...thank you." He motioned for her to sit on the sofa and then sat next to her. "I already know about the whole stages of grief thing. I did the anger and bargaining and all that already. I've accepted this. You might be better off talking to the kids."

"You've cheated death a bazillion times, Bruce. You always find a way. Your SuperBestie is like the embodiment of hope. Are you sure you've really accepted this?"

"Yes. I see my legacy, Harley, and I'm proud. So proud of it. I see these kids who have grown so much. They're all heroes themselves, and they'll lead the next generation to be even better than this one. I've even helped a few former villains turn their lives around and become heroes." Harley blushed. "The Wayne Foundation is stronger and helping more people than ever. If this is where my story ends, I'm perfectly fine with that. I'm not sure I could do any better if I lived a hundred more years. Or a thousand."

"What about your kids?"

Bruce laughed. "They've had to deal with my death before. They have each other, their friends, and I'm sure you'll be there for them too, if they need it."

"Absolutely."

"Thank you."

"What about grandkids? Your kids are all gorgeous and most of them are over 18 now. They'll start gettin' hitched and having little ones soon. You'll miss seeing that."

Bruce got serious. "That will be my biggest regret."

Ivy put her hand on top of Bruce's. "Well I promise Auntie Harley will tell them all about their Grandpa Bruce and how he saved her and so many others. And I'll keep an eye on the kids too."

"Please do. Dick will try to hide his pain caring for the others. He'll try to do too much. I think I worry about him more than the others even. Duke has already essentially lost his parents, so he may feel some abandonment issues. Tim will try to pull away from his friends when he needs them the most. Jason and Damian will be angry, and they don't think straight when they're angry. Cass, I actually worry about the least. Her and Steph will have each other's backs. And Barbara too. Is it weird the women will probably deal with this better?"

"Not really. Men have such a societal stigma about asking for and accepting help.  With women, since we're seen as weaker," Harley rolled her eyes in disgust, "it's deemed ok for us to ask for help."

Bruce thought for a bit. "If people had seen the women I've seen, they wouldn't think that way."

"Well, you're kinda a magnet for strong women. Speaking of which, have you talked to Selina yet?"

"Yes. Earlier today. Right before I told the kids. She's on her way."

"Do you have your diagnosis info from your doctor? I'd like to see it, if that's ok. Psychiatrists get a lot of neurological training too, so I know my way around the human brain. Kinda nice to be looking at it from this aspect rather than just bashing them in, ya know?"

Bruce smiled and handed her the folder. She looked it over for a few minutes.

"Well, the good news is the location might be unlucky in that's it's too hard to get to to be operable, but you should keep your mental faculties right up to the end. I'm sure that's a pretty big deal for you."

"Yes, it is. The neuro-oncologist told me as much, but it's still nice to get a second opinion."

"So, you're definitely not looking for options? It's not like you don't have access to a lot of super smart people, literally. Plus the best medical science can offer, not to mention aliens and magic and all that."

"I don't want false hope. Not for me or the kids. As you said before, I've cheated death too many times. It's my time."

"I guess there's not much more to say then. At least now, but if you do want to talk more, you can call me anytime."

Bruce stood up and Harley followed. He hugged her tightly. "Thank you, Harley."

---------------------------------------------

Five weeks later, Bruce went to sleep and never woke up. He never really lost his cognitive functions, something that everyone was grateful for. He was buried a few days later, on a perfect fall day, in the family plot next to his parents.

Cass had already taken over as the new Batman with Stephanie as her Robin, with an updated suit. A few villains laughed at first, but that didn't last long, and word soon got around that the new dynamic duo was not to be messed with.

Dick had indeed tried to take too much on himself, but Wally and Donna were there to knock some sense into him. Apparently they knocked enough sense into him that he proposed to Barbara, and they were married, and pregnant, a few months later.

Tim went to San Francisco and lived at Titans Tower full time with plans on being there by himself. Kon, Cassie, and Bart, made sure that didn't happen, even when he screamed at them to leave him alone. (He was very glad they didn't listen.) With his friends' and the family's permission, he told Bernard who he really was, and Bernard moved to the Tower a few months later. He turned out to be a pretty good Oracle for them, and eventually took the name Knightwatch.

Jefferson and Katana had gotten married and moved to Gotham. Duke moved in with them and continued as Gotham's daytime protector. He still spent a lot of time at the Manor.

Roy asked Jason to help him find Lian, which turned out to be a great distraction for him. Both Artemises joined them, the younger going by Tigress now. Jason and his Artemis eventually got together, shortly after they rescued Lian.

Damian took a while before he could go back out in costume. He wasn't doing well and tried staying in Metropolis with the Kents, but that seemed to make his anger worse. He knew going to his mother right now would be a terrible idea, and finally it was Conner that suggested a plan.

"Go to Smallville. I'm not there as much to help Ma and Pa out, and if you're working on the farm, you'll be too busy and too tired for anger. Trust me on this one."

So Damian stayed with the elder Kents for six months. After a rough settling in period, the arrangement worked out well for everyone. He found a lot of joy working with the animals especially, and started looking into veterinary schools for the future.

Alfred had lost a lot and it weighed heavily on him, but as soon as he found out Dick and Barbara were going to have a child, it was as if he'd gotten twenty years younger.

Selina and Talia bonded over their grief, and Selina ended up going to Nanda Parbat to help Talia run the League. It had never been more efficient.

When the Joker heard about Bruce Wayne's death on the news, knowing exactly who Bruce really was, he left Gotham and was never heard from again.

Harley Quinn started up a group called The Reformed with Ivy, Kite Man, Clayface, and King Shark. Mr. Freeze, the Riddler, and Bane joined them a few months later. They helped out with keeping Gotham safe, day and night. Harley tried to get them to wear matching outfits, but had to settle for everyone wearing a "B" (like the Robin "R") on their assorted suits. She stopped by Bruce's grave frequently to tell him of their adventures.

[warmuse]

The original ask should come with content warning, but since I can't grab their brain and do it, I'll slap it on myself

CW for weight judging, appareance judging, borderline abliest based on judging someone's performance and worth by visual appearance of sickness

====

Wow it seems in this fandom it's just normal and not rude at all to speculate openly about someone's appearance and make wild conclusions, right?

No one is saying rockstar life or smoking or their schedule is healthy for the band but the current obsession that Damiano is sabotaging himself (and no one else in the band?) and placing the blame subtly on him doesn't sit right with me, don't you think?

No I don't care whether the conclusion was right or wrong, of course Damiano is tired from touring, making multiple big energetic gigs per week and travelling all over the place in strange beds are exhausting to anyone, of course having to go through so many commitment to one so anxious as him would take tolls which may or may not result in him smoking visibly more. It's the language and attitude of these people lording over their "blorbo rocker" or whatever that makes me roll my eyes so hard I can see the back of my own socket. To be called naive or dumb bc "I didn't see the warning sign" is just as dumb. Warning sign of what? Lung cancer? They have that stuck to every cigarette, do these people think Damiano is illiterate?

So what do the "Damiano's health experts" propose? Gonna shout at him to stop smoking? Boycott the streams bc he is not "in a healthy weight"? (Also pointing out someone's weight in this society is kinda gross, dont you agree?) Ask to control his diet because you don't find him in a desirable meat-to-fat ratio? Damn Damiano must have so many doctors and dieticians, the way people just throw comments about his appearance. Apparently in this age and in the world wide web, an adult human deserves to be judged like a farm animal in a fare riight? Because he's a frontman of the band and suddenly all things that you would feel uncomfortable and rude when shouted at from a stranger across the street becomes ok?

Being a fan is an one-way street, I'm afraid, no matter how much you love them you don't know everything, you shouldn't know everything, if you think you have rights to commodify and own one person's entire behavior go and reflect on how social media and parasocial marketing has given you a brainrot

Also, what about Ethan or Thomas? Do we not care about their health, too, or they're better people than Damiano who must do everything wrong and so immune to cigarette? Thomas and Ethan must be "dying and in horrible places" because he smokes and sometimes accompanies Vic partying? But sure they are totally fine! Ethan looks fine and unchanged so it's Damiano who is only doing "irresponsible behavior" clearly! Who's gonna walk up to Victoria and ask her to stop partying so much bc if she becomes a good girl she wouldn't get sick (a hyperbole anyway)? Wasn't there someone on this very app who were bold enough to speculate on her genetic pool because her mother died of cancer and she sometimes misses interviews? Do these people stop for one microsecond to think and go "hang on, is this something I can ask to a celebrity in public without looking like a nonce"? gods, is it possibly bad and toxic to buy their tour tickets because by making them work more, we're sabotaging their health?

It's not about "ignoring the obvious bc of rose tinted glass" it's about "being respectful of their life choices" by gods some people in this fandom sure sound like they need to go back to stanning fictional people who can be molded into zero problematic behavior so that they don't get to lash out to a total stranger (no going to their gigs multiple times doesn't count)

Okay but look at pics from 1-2 years ago vs now he looks older and looks sick, it's not make up

His face looks tired his eyes are becoming sunken, he lost weight, he's smoking more even his demeanor has changed

Everything is different about Damiano seriously something is off

He's not okay, it's not just the smoking it's the face the behavior and it's VERY apparent that he's not okay take off the rose colored glasses and look around look at all of them from 1 year ago to now and who looks the least okay? Damiano, the tour is taking an awful toll on everyone but Damiano is visibly in the worst state look at the facts and everything else he's not okay and we have to admit that

I think the tour is taking a toll on him and everyone else. They really need a break.

[boop-le-snoot]

cupid carries a gun

masterlist • taglist & faq

dark!Bruce Banner x named!Reader. Rated R.

Dr. Banner is a serial killer known as the Doctor and Bailey has his soulmark. He escapes imprisonment and meets his soulmate. ~2,2k words. Serial killer fluff??

[no y/n, no 'you', no reader description, race/age/body type neutral, only first name]

This is more of a concept I wrote in an hour than an actual fic. I think it would make a good multi-chapter, but really, my hands are full now and I just needed to get this weird dream off my chest. Yes, I had a dream he was a serial killer and I was his soulmate 💀🖐🏻 I need to ease up on true crime shows istg...

St. John's was suffering a nasty collective psychosis. That would be the only logical explanation Bailey is willing to accept for the jittery, jerky way everybody is behaving. Some of it could be attributed to the armed guards roaming the halls and scaring the patients - but in America, a gun slung over the shoulder shouldn't invoke such a reaction from people.

Only select few know what these people are there for, anyways. Most hospital population is clueless, only vaguely perceiving the sense of dread those harbouring the knowledge seem to carry around. People are easily scared - the thought doesn't leave Bailey's head her whole shift.

She, however, knows exactly what is happening. She's good at her job, brilliant even, nerves made of purest steel and bedside manner perfectly compassionate and tender. It doesn't come as a surprise that she is the one that got chosen to handle the problematic, uncooperative patients.

The bar is high, and this time - neigh impossible. A man so dangerous, so volatile, it required the sheriff to dispatch their town's squadron of special forces - not that was anything but a slight setback for the Doctor. The halls of this hospital will be forever marred with their blood, will forever be haunted by the echoes of their screams abruptly cutting off with a wet squelch.

Bailey thought she'd done her part to protect the innocents. Her colleagues, young women just like her (they're not, Bailey's mind whispers), all safely locked away in a storage closet for the cops to find. There are no windows and He won't see or hear them... If they're smart.

There he is, the man everybody is savagely afraid of. He is everything and nothing she had imagined - Doctor Bruce Banner is on the shorter side, stocky and sickly pale in his hospital issue pajamas, the bluish tint to his skin contrasted by dark crimson stains of blood on the rancid green cotton of his clothes.

The axe in his hands is held firmly but clumsily - Bailey's sure it wouldn't have been his weapon of choice should he had been given one. A choice. She swallowed the unease that spread all over her determination like mold, seeing his eyes, wild and crazy, land on the crook of her arm - where his mark laid, bright red and angry, as if it had been carved into her flesh mere days ago.

"Are you, perhaps, in need of a nurse, doctor Banner?" Bailey inquired softly, fingertips shaking, as the man crossed the space between them with short, powerful strides. The woman's stance widened, involuntary shivers running through her bones at the unexpected tenderness coming from him - Dr. Banner's palms gently wrapped around her arm, warm, chapped lips touching the angry, red soulmark near the crook of her elbow.

"It's been so long since I had a nurse," the man's mutter was barely audible. His eyes, the warmest brown she'd ever seen, met Bailey's wide, shining ones, for her to discover no trace of the madness she was told should be there. Bailey smiled.

As the hospital building grew smaller in the rear view mirror, so did Bailey's anxiety, paving way to excitement and muted curiosity. Her mother always had told that fate had a way of intervening when it was needed - and her mom had oftentimes taken up the role onto herself, moving them out of the state when Bailey's soulmark began to appear on dead people's bodies, burned or cut into skin as a signature. Bailey was not old enough to understand what it meant, back then, but she'd always been a clever girl.

With her first mobile device, she figured out why her mother strictly prohibited her from speaking about it, why her mother always kept a stash of large bandaids to cover it should Bailey be required to remove her long-sleeve shirt.

Only Bailey's physician knew. She'd expected terror, disgust - or even pity, but Dr. Strange always kept his mouth and eyes shut. As Bailey grew older, blossomed into a fine young woman, she thought she saw envy leak into his chiseled features - but Dr. Strange was as quiet and cynical as ever.

As long as nobody tried to separate them, it would be fine. A small smile stretched her plush lips, hand squeezing the one holding hers with giddiness creeping into her youthful features. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed an expression of curious tranquility on Dr. Banner's- Bruce's face as his eyes stayed firmly on the road as the radio crackled static in-between songs.

"Penny for your thoughts?" The man she'd grown to crave and fear, his salt and pepper curls bouncing with every pothole the car hit; his warm hand, larger than hers by a stretch, provided comfort she hadn't known she needed.

"Where to, doc?" The woman couldn't hold back the anticipation. She wanted to hold him, to be close - closer than her small, cramped cheap car allowed them to be.

"I have some friends waiting for me," the man announced, as if he hadn't spent the last five years in a maximum security prison. Not that it mattered to Bailey - but knowing there was no way back from this, Bruce's so-called friends became a point of doubt to the young woman. The doctor noticed it, his responding smile both dangerous and comforting, all sharp canines and moist lips. "You know them, baby. Dr. Strange is a colleague of mine and Tony Stark is a great friend."

Bailey's eyebrows rose, mild disbelief caught somewhere in her trachea as she attempted to clear her throat. Her family physician and the businessman rumoured to be the largest crime boss of their side of the pond. Suddenly, Strange's long glances and penetrating stares acquired a new meaning, a sense of indignation seeping into Bailey's newly found joy. "And he never said anything," the longing, the countless nights spent studying every publicly available material on Dr. Banner, the killer surgeon that terrorised the Tri-State area burned acrid in her chest.

"He told everything to me," Bruce's remark stung if only from the fact that he'd known about her all along. "Who, do you think, pushed for your transfer to St. John's?" Bruce's smile glinted a little wicked in the meager light of passing-by streetlights as the evening sun simmered down to a rest below the horizon. "I don't actually have cancer," the second remark was more optimistic, spoken hopefully, with another gentle squeeze to her hand.

Bailey puffed out a breath she didn't know she was holding. The puzzle pieces slowly started to arrange themselves, revealing a bigger picture than the one before. She wanted to be mad - mad at Stephen, for not saying anything; mad at Bruce, for getting himself caught years prior. And the anger at her own mother, for taking away her right to stand by her soulmate, for all the countless fights and nights spent locked up in her room.

Bailey had been treated like a monster as soon as he soulmark showed up - and after so much time spent trying to show she wasn't one, perhaps, it was time to face the truth. Perhaps, it was time to show them how much of a monster she could be, if they were so unhappy before.

Gravel flew under the wheels of Bailey's beaten up Toyota Corolla, sending little pebbles to bang noisily against the bumper and the stone flower beds surrounding the driveway to a large two-story mansion. Two cars stood in from of it with two men leaning each against their own vehicle.

The shorter figure was well-dressed, suit obviously bespoke and expensive, sunglasses reflecting the headlights of her Toyota even from a distance away. The taller figure stood out with familiarity, a lit cigarette freely dangling between the finger of his gesturing hand - Dr. Strange and his long, sculpted legs, Bailey could recognise even from a mile away.

Bruce parked, killing the engine and exiting the car with a free, lopsided grin carelessly thrown in Bailey's direction. Fumbling with the lock of her seatbelt, the woman's eyes latched onto the figure of her soulmate eagerly embracing the shorter man, their reunion evidently long-awaited and happy. Stephen's coarse laugh penetrated the interior of the car as the wacky passenger side seatbelt finally let Bailey free.

Three pairs of eyes bore into her body still wearing the scrubs from the hospital - one laughing, Strange was amused; one curious - none other than Tony Stark and his shameless smirk had made an appearance at their first getaway destination; and Bruce, looking so damn proud and lovesick. The grin tugged at Bailey's lips as the presence of the other men barely registered in her elevetaed emotional state.

"Damn, Brucie-bear, lucky you," Tony Stark wolf-whistled, clapping the doctor on the shoulder and receiving a fond eyeroll in return. Those two really were good friends. "Well, I won't hold you two back from getting to know each other better," Stark wiggled his eyebrows salaciously. "We can talk business tomorrow," with that, Stark waltzed over to Bailey, snatching the keys to her car out of her hands with a quick flick of his wrist. "Can't have a car allegedly containing a runaway prisoner on my property, now can I? Don't worry, babycakes, my people will take care of it. Bruce is family. You better treat him well, or else," the river of words flowed from Tony's mouth, causing the surprised Bailey to simply freeze in place and withstand his rambling, surrounded by the smell of whiskey and Stark's expensive cologne.

Despite his easy tone and the relaxed demeanor, Bailey knew a dangerous man when saw one. Tony Stark was not to be fucked with. "Yeah," she mumbled, scampering for the trunk to take out the duffle bag she carried around everywhere - just in case. Just in case her serial-killing, incarcerated-for-life soulmate would somehow found his way to her.

Tony looked at the spectacle with amusement. "You won't need your ID, sweetheart. All of that is going to be taken care of, don't worry your pretty little head about it."

"Duly noted," Bailey couldn't help the annoyed frown at Tony's frivolousness. Her government ID was the last thing on her mind. She wasn't stupid, she knew her mother would go to the cops as soon as she saw the news. "I have my own business to attend to. Might need a hand," the realization came with the dull thud of the trunk being slammed shut.

Tony's eyebrows rose; Bruce approached her with caution, wrapping an arm around her waist from behind. "Is it urgent?"

"Her mother knows about their connection," Strange piped up, glowing ember of the cigarette flying somewhere over the car. The sound of a lighter followed immediately, another dot of shiny red standing out in the twilight. "Don't worry, Bailey, she's detained and sedated for the time being," he offered with a crooked smirk, nearly no trace of the quiet man who bandaged her boo-boos when she was a child.

"You planned this," Bailey observed, fighting the dread crawling up her spine. The realization - she will never step back, will never be able to escape this life - set in. She was unprepared, having acted on a whim, prepared to live on the run but not within an arm's reach of her previous life yet unable to resume it.

"A long time ago," Strange nodded. "You always were a clever girl, Bailey. It is delightful to finally you where you belong," he smiled at Bruce in earnest.

Bailey wondered what else was going on in the sleepy town of hers. What kind of atrocities were committed daily under her nose, by the very people she knew and trusted. There was so much evil in this world.

But not Bruce. He could never be evil, even as he cut the hearts out of the men that had been treating those around them as objects. Bruce merely made them what they should've been; the greed, the infidelity - what use did those men have for their hearts? The Doctor was merciful and true: he never caused his patients undue pain and always, always left them in a state they were true to themselves. It wasn't his fault so many of his patients were heartless beasts for men.

Those clever hands, the same hands that brought the world at his feet, brought Bailey at his - voluntarily so. Their bodies hot, impatient for each other, with their blood singing a song of lust and longing, both of them hidden from the world by the heavy velvet curtains of Tony's estate - it was hellfire in heaven.

No amount of time too long as Bruce's teeth closed around Bailey's jugular, sinking into the flesh tenderly, all the while her nails penetrated the skin of his back; both drew blood, content to drown in it and wash their sins away with it. Heaven and Hell were merely words for the two, anyway.

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