#Or that they don't sustain wounds that will never heal again

[a-shade-of-blue]

Hi everyone. Mohammed Khalil (@ahmed0khalil) has asked me to share his story, and I’m writing on his behalf. Mohammed created the donation campaign for his little brother 6-year-old Ahmed, and he aims to raise funds to evacuate his family of 8. You can see in his blog how much he loves and worries for 6-year-old Ahmed. Mohammed is only 19 years old. This is not normal. He should have been in school, not begging for our attention to try and raise enough funds so that they can buy food, water, medicine, and a chance to evacuate to safety.

In Gaza, where the sounds of bombing blend with the cries of children, Mohammed and Ahmed's family experienced days they never imagined they would endure. Mohammed (19) and Ahmed (6) have four other siblings: Fathi, Aya, Anas and Abdullah. Aya (21) is a uni nursing student and Anas (15) is also a school student. Neither of them can study anymore with the current genocide. This war is especially hard on Fathi (23), who is blind and suffering from coronary artery disease, Abdullah (11) who is autistic and does not understand what is happening, and Ahmed (6), a small child who had barely started kindergarten before his education came to a halt.

The destruction that struck the area left them with no place to live. The sounds of explosions fill the horizon, and the homes that once sheltered them have become piles of rubble. They suddenly found themselves outside their home, homeless.

The bombing not only destroyed their home, but also severely injured Mohammed. Mohammed was sitting at the entrance of the school his family was sheltering in when three bombs were dropped in front of him. The bombs destroyed a residential tower in front of Mohammed. Dust filled the air and the resulting rubble and shrapnel fell on Mohammed, injuring him in the leg. Mohammed was so severely wounded that he could not walk, and he had to lie there, hurt and bleeding, for 2 hours before the Palestinian Red Crescent came and carried him to the hospital.

The bombing shattered the glass in the school Mohammed and his family was staying at, but thankfully the children sustained no serious injuries. Soon after, they were asked to evacuate the school immediately as there were news that the IOF were going to bomb the Abbas prison near it. And so even though Mohammed was wounded, he could not rest and wait for his leg to heal, but had to leave again with his family.

Now they are living in a small tent in a refugee camp. Mohammed told me that they had to bathe in polluted water and the place smelled of sewage and corpses. Camp life was difficult not only because of the scarcity of food, the infectious disease, and the polluted water, but also because of the psychological torture they endure. Looking at all the devastation, and how the world seems indifferent to their suffering, Mohammed told me that they, including young innocent 6-year-old Ahmed, had begun to lose hope for a better future.

Internet is unstable and often lacking in the refugee camp. Mohammed is using the precious time when Internet is available to tell me his story. I hope you will not turn away their calls for help. They urgently need donations to provide for shelter, food, and medicine, as well as to evacuate out of Gaza. Donations are coming in really slowly for Mohammed’s campaign, and I beg all of you, please, don't turn a blind eye to his story. 

Mohammed’s campaign has been shared by 90-ghost and I’ve also been talking extensively with him. He is a very nice person and he just really wants to help his family survive. Please, please, help Mohammed evacuate himself, his 5 siblings and his parents! Little 6-year-old Ahmed does not deserve to live in fear of falling bombs every day, and neither does Mohammed and the rest of his family. 

Really low funds! Only €1,185 raised of €50,000 target!!

Please share/reblog and donate to help a family of 8! These are children we are talking about, and my heart breaks for what they have to endure.

Please follow Mohammed and Ahmed on @ahmed0khalil to get updates on their situation!

[etherfabric]

Encouragement from your Spirit Guides

Choose a pile by which picture you resonate with the most.

If your mind is too busy to clearly decide, take a few deep breaths, and use the finger of your non-dominant hand to hover over the images. One will give off the most subtle yet prominent signals, like tingles, a magnetic pull, or temperature. This is your pile. Multiples are also possible.

You are the ultimate authority over your life. I merely provide my perspective. Sometimes the Universe lines you up with something that doesn't resonate with your truth, so you have contrast to find out what does. Never give away your power.

Pile 1

The Fool, 9 of Swords

Ditch the phrase "Do it scared." When you bulldoze through your fear, you hurt yourself. It is a part of you that you will never transcend, because you need it. You can't expect any sustainable outcome from this violent approach. Your Spirit Guides see your efforts and want you to know that you hit the mark a long time ago already, and they are doing all they can to line you up with more positive experiences. They don't want you to use force against your most vulnerable parts for the sake of progress that is not even due yet.

You were told by misguided people that you are too sensitive, too slow, too lazy when you feel comfortable. This is not the case. The Universe likes slow. It likes gentle, loving approaches. It will meet you where you are at. Trust in your innate worth of good things, and don't whip yourself to places and situations you aren't ready for. Good things will come - for example the much calmer state of mind you will have once you don't betray your own trust anymore by ignoring your boundaries. You deserve kindness, patience and everything you need to feel safe. Listen to your fear. It needs your love.

Pile 2

Strength, King of Cups

Standing ovation for your emotional resilience! Your Spirit Guides are so freaking proud of you. You found a place within yourself where you can watch the waters of your soul ebb and flow in sovereignty. Even the stormiest currents can't rock you enough to lose your focus on what's important to you. You exude an air of compassion towards yourself that is inspiring.

What you deemed impossible and beyond your depth not so long ago is now already second nature to you. What an evolution to witness! Take pride in the thousands of conscious impulses that led you here. Let the imposter syndrome swim its laps, you know where it stems from, and you know that's not the whole story.

Beware of your knack for arrogance, the other end of that spectrum, and the future looks peachy.

Pile 3

The World, The Moon

Your Spirit Guides want you to know that there is closure to a deep rooted doubt on the horizon. They way you are carrying yourself in the last few days is amicable, and benefits the integration of one of your deepest wounds. Healing comes in many forms, and you have experienced a good handful of them already. Buckle up for a whole new variant of dimension in this regard - things you deemed lost forever will be ever so close to your grasp again and provide you with a surge of motivation you couldn't imagine before.

When the shadows of the past cloud your judgement, hold onto the smidge of light creeping through, especially when it seems like a lukewarm joke that just can't be true. From the perspective of despair, hope always seems ridiculous. Well, get a little silly, then. Dancing naked might sound like the worst humiliation, but only to those who haven't tasted that kind of freedom yet. Get ready to hear the music soon.

Pile 4

Two of Pentacles, Queen of Swords

Oh how you are chopping down that bullshit quickly! No time for nonsense is written all over your forehead, and for the metaphorically illiterate, you have no trouble spelling it out ever so clearly. Your Spirit Guides are in awe of your determination when it comes to your boundaries. You are loyal to your highest principles, no matter what. You know for certain that your wants and needs have a valid foundation, and you won't tolerate any projected shame on that part.

In the past, people could drag you into psychological tug-of-wars that left you off balance either way, whether you "won" or "lost". Now you smell that game from a mile away and don't even touch that rope. Just one little advice: Choose your battles. Not every boundary has to be set in stone, and not every crossing of one is a fundamental failure on your part you have to avoid at all costs, or else. Humans are multitudes of parts, all with their own unique set of requirements, and context is always a factor.

But still, look at you and how far your shadow work around speaking up has taken you! Who would've thought that one day you would need a reminder that soft is okay, too? ;)

[fangsandfeels]

Bioware had continuity issues before...

...but with Veiguard, I feel like this time it just didn't care and was in a hurry to bury the DA world as fast as possible, so it could proceed to finishing Mass Effect off the same way.

Spoiler-y nitpicks and thoughts below

Once again, I'm all for the premise of almost none of the higher beings and deities of Thedas being kind or benevolent - and all of them turning out to be not what they seemed or were promised to be.

It fits the undergoing theme of every group in Thedas subtly believing that their true gods will come and fix everything, and every atrocity, every bloodbath, every sacrifice will be worth it. For the plot to take away that hope and expose how deep the wounds go, how absolutely wrecked this world is (and you can never un-wreck it , would have been absolutely logical and very in tune with the general tone of the series.

The Old Gods

If Archdemons contain not the souls of the Old Gods, but the key to the Evanuris mortality, why was Solas mad at the Grey Wardens for killing them? Why did Mythal/Flemeth needed to preserve the soul of an Old God? Wouldn't she, a betrayed and angry goddess, want to sever her traitors' connection to immortality? Instead, she wanted it "a piece of what once was, snatched from the jaws of darkness". Something, that meant to be saved from corruption and destruction. But now Solas dismisses it by saying that Old Gods were never a thing, it has always been the Evanuris using dragons as their conduits and immortality placeholders?

Then why did you give Grey Wardens so much crap for killing these dragons, Solas?!

Yeah, we can argue that Solas was worrying about the Evanuris not being able to sustain the Veil due to losing their immortality, but he was going to bring it down anyways? So what difference would it have made anyways?

Something doesn't add up.

I think, the most logical thing would have been to leave the Old Gods as the raw magic incarnate - truly a relict from the world back when magic was everywhere. So, it would have make sense for Flemeth, Morrigan and Solas want to preserve it - despite all the destructive potential, it has always belonged to this world. It would have also explained why darkspawn need to infect the slumbering Old Gods - as ancient magical beings, they are attuned to the world, and the taint means to exploit that connection.

2. The taint and the Blight

If the taint is the product of the Titan's anger and desire for vengeance...why can Ghila'nain use it like her own personal Play-Doh? I'd imagine, the pure concentration of wrath and anger should be particularly deadly for the Evanuris - because it's directed against them, first and foremost. I don't mind the Titans being as the general source of the plague - it would explain the Deep Roads and darkspawn behavior. A twisted wish to be whole again, an unfulfilled desire to keep fighting - a constant, never-ending call to arms. It also would have been a nice callback to the state of the Mother from Awakening: she woke up only to realize and remember what has been done to her, which broke her mind and made her desperate to either die or return to that mindless state of rage and destruction. So do the Titans feel, knowing they were mutilated and plundered, broken apart, and are in too much pain to ever forgive or know peace.

If Titans were so connected to the physical world, the taint changing everything it touches would have made sense: life itself twisting and contorting into a weapon, against an attacker it can't see or find. This is truly tragic, horrifying and realistic - taint as a wound that cannot heal, that festers, and rots but never closes. It's a very accurate depiction of trauma caused by a genocidal war.

Therefore, it would have made more sense if the Evanuris were fucking terrified of the taint and the darkspawn because of how devastating it was to them and because they had no clue how to destroy it - they could only contain it and hope it works.

Maybe Ghila'nain tried to master it but barely survived and went mad, modifying her body and "perfecting" herself as a result. It would still have been possible to keep her obsessed with taint - mostly out of pure denial that something can be beyond her control as she believes herself to be the Goddess of Creation.

Also, you can still have your scarier version of more active and virulent taint - just make it change in response to the gods appearing in the physical world. Make it spread more actively, make the darkspawn go into frenzy, make it look like the new Blight is starting - but now it's as if blindly searching for something or someone. Wouldn't that be fucking creepy?

Maybe, for the first time in a long while, the South of Thedas isn't the one to take a hit - instead, the darkspawn are flocking to where the gods are.

(Of course, the question is, why the taint doesn't target the elves specifically? Because of them losing their immortality - the taint isn't exactly sentient, so it perceives them as part of physical world)

It would have posed such an interesting and controversial option for the player: to weaponize the Blight to end the gods.

3. Maker

I remember that the developers mentioned that the Maker never meant to be real. It was meant to represent the humanity's ability to believe in a symbol. But the Veilguard's "the legend about the Maker was actually about magister's breaking into the prison made by Solas and accidentally blighting all around the place" is such an underwhelming conclusion. After all, the Ashes of Andraste meant to imply that there is something. That it's not just a collective gaslighting - but something else.

I feel like they could have made so much with it:

In the context of the taint's connection to the Titans, what if Maker has always been somewhat of an emissary of the taint? It was cut off from the dwarves and locked away - but it needed a way out, right? Even subconsciously, it knew that it has to get out. It was the music that kept playing, the song that called. So, it reached out to other beings of the physical world, whispering to them and beckoning them. Andraste, due to probably being a Dream Walker or extremely sensitive to the Fade, caught a glimpse of that events, but was never able to make sense of it, which led her to fill in the gaps, which led to the creation of andrastianism. Therefore, Maker didn't leave the Golden City - once the taint was released, it fulfilled its purpose.

What if Andraste willed the Maker into existence? Since Fade is attuned to people's dreams, thoughts, and inner worlds, maybe Andraste's connection to it was so strong, it channeled her pain, her wish for justice and salvation into a figure that she believed to be the Maker? What if she was even able to perform miracles with the Maker as her avatar, turning people into believers? So, logically, when she died, the Maker stopped responding: she was no longer there to sustain him. No amount of prayers and sermons, of repressions and murders, of crusades and chats would have made the Maker return - because the only person actually capable of that was burned and killed long ago. This would have also explained why some spirits believe in Maker because they saw him in people's dreams - the Maker never existed in any other shape and it couldn't manifest completely because his image differed based on individual person's imagination and convictions.

After all, the true horror of living is realizing that nobody is control. Nobody is coming to fix things for you. There is no hope - only the consequences you are forced to live in.

[808airsoftbros]

Vampire Kiss of Life's Reaction to you Getting Hurt

Julie Han (Alpha)

Big. Big. Big Mistake

Attacking an Alpha's husband especially if it's mating season is the equivalent of signing one's death wish and Miss Julie Han is no exception and is very unforgiving

Julie wouldn't love anything more than to rip the fool into shreds but first, she'd want to send them a final message before they die and feel nothing but dread and fear

But the most important part is that you are safe and ensure you are healthy and all wounds are treated if you sustained any

Would you be traumatized witnessing Julie rip apart the perp? Nope, Julie isn't a monster to let you see that and would likely tell you to stay in a safe hiding spot

"Mama? What happened?" Your innocent-self asked

"Oh, don't worry sweetie, that bad man won't hurt you any longer and I won't allow anyone to do so again, now come along sweetie~,"

Natty (อานัชญา สุพุทธิพงศ์) (Enforcer)

Oh boy... If anyone dares to hurt you in any way, Natty wouldn't hesitate to confront the perp and would ensure something like this wouldn't happen again

If they're are lucky enough that Natty is in a good mood, she might spare their life but not without several broken bones

Natty's super vampire strength can easily snap a human in half like a twig and lucky them that Natty is wise to know her own strength

But after she was done with them, Natty would constantly keep you close to her at all times and demands you to check up with her every now and then if she isn't around

"Come to mommy darling and I'll keep you safe and I promise nobody will be able to bother or hurt you when I'm around~,"

Belle (Shim Hyewon) (Blood Sister)

Belle is completely obsessed and possessive when it comes to you and you are the only thing that comes to her mind so you can imagine how she'll feel when someone lays their dirty fingers on you

She'd be livid and angry beyond the levels she never imagined in her life, Belle would nearly lose control of her emotions because she would feel at fault because she wasn't strong enough to prevent this

Belle would blame herself for failing you and worst of all, her sisters would be greatly disappointed but that was just overthinking thankfully and will handle the situation with pure elegance with a hint of blood

But what's more important to her is that you're safe and breathing, wounds will heal with proper treatment and Belle would go as far as make an example out of them

"Come near my precious baby and you all suffer the same fate as him..."

Won Haneul (Youngest Blood)

Oh boy, Haneul... How should I put this? Haneul is one of the most dangerous and powerful maknae Vampires in the sisterhood and she certainly won't take shit from anyone

Haneul takes her duty of being your wife and mother seriously just like her older sisters and has sworn to protect you from any dangers

She loves you to death and will do anything to ensure you're comfort and happiness so to see someone laying their hands on you is something that will surely make her infuriated with fiery rage

Haneul would chase them down if she has to letting one of her older sisters look after you while she was gone and will deliver a painful death to the person

"This is what you deserve for hurting my little angel and Hell has a special place for you..."

[tootoomanycats]

Just Deserts

(Post Rumbling Levi x Reader slow burn)

Chapter One- It's Snowing

Pairing:

Levi x Reader Slow Burn (eventual smut)

Word Count: 2,119

If you prefer to read on AO3 its HERE Summary: Two years after the rumbling has ended, the citizens of Paradis Island are beginning to enter a new era of peace. With trade routes open around the world now, more and more foreigners are arriving on the island. In a small town built on the island's docks, Levi has opened a tea shop. Humanity's strongest hero, now turned shop owner, has become a stickler for his daily routines. He wakes up, serves tea to the townsfolk, tends to his small garden, and then walks back upstairs to sleep, only to do it all over again the next day. It's a simple life—one he's never had before. After landing on the island's shores, following a hasty exit from home, you find yourself starting from square one. Over the next few months, you make friends with the locals and begin to build a new life for yourself. One day leads to the next, and somehow, you find yourself holding the deed to an empty storefront. Its windows face directly across from the local tea shop and its brooding owner. From your first meeting, neither of you could stand the other. In the months that follow the opening of your shop, a mutual frustration develops regarding your feelings for each other. What began as annoyance slowly transforms into a friendship, and both of you become nervous that it could be something more. Can Levi overcome his past and allow someone in again? Can you heal from heartbreak to have a chance at something real and honest? Or will you both settle for the courtesies of friendship, forever denying the desire for something deeper?

Warnings:

Minor mentions of blood.

Descriptions of chronic pain.

Mentions of a cheating partner.

Author Notes:

Hello Everyone! Holy shit, two chapters in one week? Nobody tell my cardiologist how much caffeine I’ve had this week- I don’t want to get in trouble. This is a story I’ve been sitting on my hands for almost a year now. I had made the original idea for this fic HERE. I ended up outlining some of it, and then, due to stress, moving, and tons of health issues, I forgot about it until two a.m. last night- when my sleeping meds were fighting with the caffeine I did not drink.

(it might have been three yerba cans, might not; you don't have proof!)

This one’s gonna be a slow burn, and it's gonna be funny. I want to put a lot of humor into this one.

As always if you like what you have read please remember that fanfic writers live off of likes, comments and reblogs- we wont admit it but we all have praise kinks. Have you watered your smut provider today?

Two Years After The Rumbling

Glancing to the worn side table where a small square-faced alarm clock sat, a groan wracked his chest.

Two needle-like arms sat at 4:45 AM.

An hour before it was set to go off.

The smaller needle twitched back once before going forward two extra ticks; still need to fix that.

Four hours of fitful rest before being dragged back to the waking world. Last night's storm seemed hellbent on bringing powerful snow squalls. Accompanied by an atmospheric presser change that had his body vehemently protesting the whole night.

Freezing days like this had every past wound, affliction, and defacement his body had sustained roaring, unable to be ignored, and only allowing short and broken stints of rest.

If you could even call it that.

A slow blink brought focus to the ceiling. The aged variegation and cracks had been memorized in the last hour. Levi was lying awake in bed, his mind trying to pull what little motivation it could to sit up.

A groan filled his chest before he even started to move. Turning slowly to the right side, his right leg bent against the mattress. He then pushed his left hand down into the firm padding, using the leverage to sit up in bed.

Every movement was carefully debated, anything to avoid more discomfort than was already felt. Just sitting upright used more energy than he wanted to acknowledge.

Pulsing heat wound like barbed wire in his left shin, wrapping up the limb and pushing its pinpricked needles under the nerves of the patella. The joint inflammation, no doubt, had also caused swelling.

Shuddering a breath, Levi brought his right hand into view. There were rounded nodes where the index and middle fingers should be, both tingling and numb from the bout-filled night.

Minutes passed before trying to stand, only to feel a sharp sensation shoot up his left leg. With a grunt, he stumbled back onto the bed and begrudgingly glared at the walking cane leaning against the wall.

Another sigh.

The storm had passed over at some point, leaving a gray-skied morning in its wake. Snow blanketed everywhere that could be seen out of the window. It was going to be interesting going down the stairs of his apartment today. The steps already were becoming slick from moss, and now this added to the issue.

A shower, a very hot shower, would hopefully help this pain in the ass morning get off to a better start.

With a cane hooked over his forearm, Levi locked his apartment door before turning to face the narrow flight of stairs that stood between him and his goal.

With a grimace and half-shuffled step from the platform, his knee ached in protest as it bent to then hop down to the first step of many, only for his foot to slip on ice that had been hidden under snow.

The grip on the banister's railing was the only thing that kept him from sliding down the rest of the way. His thumb reached around to touch his ring and pinkie finger with its hold.

The opposite hand pressed down on the metal head of his cane, putting leverage onto the next step below before fixing his stance and trying to do better with the next hop. The same problem repeated, and his rear end landed harshly onto the freezing wood.

He refused to move out of pure spite at first. But with his body heat melting the snow and turning it into a puddle, the wet spot growing on his backside was not something he wanted to explain.

Glaringly, his eye scanned the street below, even glancing into his neighbors’ windows to make sure no one would see as he began scooting down each step, one at a time.

Seventeen steps later, and one very soaked bottom, saw Levi standing with a grumbling huff before turning the corner to the front of his tea shop.

“What a shit morning.” _______________________________________

“It’s snowing…”

How…

How did you get here?

Standing on a busy dock.

In a tattered wedding dress.

On an island, you had never set foot on before.

The sensation of something in your right hand made you look down at what it held. An obscenely large wad of money was neatly wrapped, held in place by a rubber band.

Oh, that’s right.

You were supposed to be getting married, right now.

Great Aunt Gertrude gave you the funds when you were zipped into the white gown this morning.

She had said something about, ugh, what was it she said?

“Just in case you change your mind.”

She had always been one to be blunt and to the point, which especially rang true for how useless she found your fiancé to be. To be fair, she wasn't wrong.

When she handed you the money, your best friend entered the dressing room to announce that your fiancée was missing. Everyone at the wedding party had been looking for him for over an hour.

It was understandable how worried you had been—what if he had been kidnapped or worse?

But nothing could have prepared you when you did find him, nothing.

It was by pure chance that you had heard the odd noises coming from the cleaning closet. When you opened the door, there was your fiancé; pants dropped down to his ankles as he pathetically thrust into another woman.

That moment felt as if it had lasted forever and simultaneously ended in a second. No one said anything, and all three of you were frozen in shock—them at being caught and you processing what you just saw.

The door had closed slowly with an ear-scratching creak. You may not remember much from that moment on, but you remember locking the door on them. No doubt forcing another person in the wedding party to find them together much later.

But you were already long gone by then.

And now you were here, where ever here was.

You watched as people walked by you, giving strange looks as you stood in the middle of the docks. It can't be blamed for the townsfolk gawking and looking away awkwardly at the sight of you. It was clear that whatever you had just been through was messy and held heft in its experience.

“Miss?”

Your body flinched at someone touching your arm gently. Turning, you look down to see a woman with a concerned expression. She stood barely at your chest, curly graying hair held back with a hand-knitted headband.

She spoke again. “Are you alright, love?”

You couldn't respond, mouth and throat refusing to make a noise as you stared at her blankly. The woman was of short and round stature, with small freckles covering her face.

And those green eyes, filled with concern. She took a moment to give you a once over before gently reaching, placing a hand at the small of your back, the other barely putting pressure on your upper arm as she started to walk and guide you.

“How about we get you out of the cold and warmed up hm?” You could not place her accent, but the tone was comforting. The kind someone uses when coaxing an injured animal.

As the woman guided across the icy cobblestoned road to a small Pub, your body was on autopilot. Once inside, the warped wooden floors creaked with each step. She pulled a chair for you to sit next to the roaring fireplace, telling you to stay there and warm up while she went and got some tea.

You didn't realize you had been cold until the warmth of the fire started to spread from your knee's up to your chest. Goosebumps cover your skin painfully, as shivers start small before growing into full body tremors, increasing to the point your teeth feel like they are going to chatter out of your jaw bones.

The heat started to bring you back to your body, painfully cold and sore, all weighing into the muscles. Exhaustion started to wallop you. Between the emotional shock, the running, and the freezing temperatures, it was no wonder you felt like you could have fallen asleep sitting up in that chair.

When your head bounced for a second time, fighting to stay awake, the woman from earlier returned to your side, holding a mug of hot tea for you.

“Poor thing, trembling like a leaf in the wind.”

When your hands first grasped the mug, you almost dropped it.

The warmth of the porcelain stinging against the sensitivity of your almost hypothermic skin. Wincing through the initial pain, you held the mug close to your chest as the woman draped the shawl she wore around your shoulders, its fibers already warmed from her body heat.

The sound of wood being scrapped against filled the empty PUB as she dragged a chair for herself, sitting in front of you. Again, you were at the mercy of your body as you could only stare at her. The fires light a stark contrast to the dark greyness that was outside. The window behind her showed snow had started falling in thick squalls.

No wonder you were freezing.

Looking from the window back to the woman, you found her pulling out a small pipe and filling it with a smoking mix from a leather pouch.

Both of you sat in silence, watching her pack and light the mixture before inhaling deeply and exhaling a stream of smoke into the air. She turned to look at you again, a sympathetic smile on the corner of her lips.

“Is there someone I can send word to for you? Family, friends?”

You looked into the mug as faces of wedding guests flashed before your mind's eye; clenching brows and lids shut, you gently shook your head and whispered, voice hoarse.

“No.”

A soft hum came from the woman’s chest as she nodded before looking back at the fire.

“If you would like, I can take you home. Where do you live?”

You fought the tremble that tried to start in your bottom lip; shaking your head again, you whispered back.

“I-I can’t go back there.”

Silence fell between the both of you again. Slowly, careful not to spill the mug’s contents as your fingers still tingled to life, you took a first sip. Your eyes closed as its warmth ran down from your throat.

Realization of how thirsty you were pushed to the front as you began taking larger swallows. Once its contents were empty, it was placed on the small table next to you. Body curling on itself as you scooted closer to the fire’s glow. Try as you might, but it was hard to think of or feel anything.

“Well, if you don’t have a place to stay, you shouldn't go out in this weather. I’ll make up one of the rooms for ya.” Before you had the chance to protest, she shook her head with a warm smile as she tapped her pipe to ash it into the fireplace. “No fuss now. I’m the owner of the INN, and my husband Frank is the owner of the PUB. We take pride in looking after folks, especially those needing it.”

When you had tried to offer money to pay for her kindness, she scoffed and began filling a large copper tub with hot water, refusing to even look at the cash in your outstretched hand.

“Now. I’ll bring you some clean clothes and some food. You get some rest; no one will bother you until it’s time for breakfast. But just in case you don’t want to be alone, I’ll be just downstairs.”

“Thank you, misses…?

“Meyer, Martha Meyer. And there’s never a need to thank me.”

A quick glance into the mirror of the bathroom had you sighing.

Eyes raccooned from tears streaking your makeup. Your hands were covered in dirt, wrists and elbows scratched up after falling in the garden when you ran out the back of the church. The lower half of your dress was dotted with small amounts of blood from your calves, lace shredded, all from the thorns of the rose bushes you sprinted through to escape faster.

When you finally managed to get into the bath, a hiss left your lips at the sting of hot water, cleaning the minor abrasions. It took what little energy you had left to wash and scrub the dirt out, dry your hair, and get into the pajamas left out for you.

The room was warming up from the small fireplace across from the twin-sized bed. After the last bite of soup, you lay down and cried yourself to sleep.

I am really going to enjoy writing about Levi's adjustments and personality around having physical impairments. The reason is that, if you don't know, my partner and I both suffer from chronic pain, and my partner has recently had to adjust to living in a wheelchair full-time. When you have these types of changes happen, suddenly, you begin to see the world is not built for folks with disabilities in mind. Levi wants to have his own tea shop and live in this particular town. As is his right, and he should be able to make that choice for himself. But the town's buildings were constructed so that apartments would be above where the business is. He had no choice but to deal with stairs every day, every season, even though it legitimately creates a safety hazard for him.

I think it's safe to say that if you really want to say that you love Levi's character—but the idea of him having disabilities, in the end, makes you uncomfortable and makes you not want to read anything that mentions them—you should really do a hard look at yourself and ask why that is. Anyway,

I love you all, and I hope you enjoy it and stay safe out there, my friends!

Tag list below ⬇️ If you would like to be added to Just Deserts tag list please comment to let me know.

Current Tag List:

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All cat art used on this blog are by the artist Valioart found on pintrest.

[flowerandblood]

The Impossible Choice (31)

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Baratheon! • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, smut, domination ]

[description: Aemond comes to Storm’s End to choose his future consort. However, Lord Borros Baratheon presents him with only four of his five daughters. Being attached to his youngest child, he does not want to marry her. The prince, however, thwarts his and her plans with his decision. This is slow burn, with a lot of dark angst and sexual tension. (Anon Request)]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

______

He thought he had gone completely and utterly mad − when he wasn't planning for war, he lay in a makeshift tent next to his wife, crying once from happiness that she had survived, once from despair, because the wounds that she had sustained were going to leave marks on her body forever.

He thought that she would never forgive him.

He ordered Alys to show him how to handle and treat her wounds, and then told her never to go near her again.

She only owed it to the fact that she had helped save her that she still had both hands.

He would have cut them off for her daring to touch her cheek and hand.

She'd wanted to drag him to her bed, and now she was pretending to worry about his wife.

Insolent whore.

When he first pulled the bandage off her arm and saw how red and cracked her skin was, he covered his mouth with his hand to keep from starting to wail loudly.

He had done this to her.

He and his family.

He applied ointment to her wounds slowly and carefully, wanting to make sure that everything healed as quickly as possible.

He knew that her scars would remain.

Her whole left arm, thigh and side would be covered with them.

His wife's beautiful, wonderful, delicate body destroyed by fire.

He was afraid of what would happen once she opened her eyes, what he would see in her gaze when she realised what he had done to her.

What her beloved husband had done to her.

Borros Baratheon's army arrived at dawn the day after Prince Daemon's attack on Harrenhal. Lord Borros and his son rode into Harrenhal on horseback along with their warriors, banners with the embroidered stag flapping loudly in the wind.

They found an appalling sight and hundreds of burnt bodies.

Lord Borros refused to speak to him − furious he dismounted from his horse and ordered to led him to his daughter.

He watched in silence as her father knelt by her side, her older brother beside him − the two bearded, muscular, serious men pressed their lips together, their eyes red as they saw how much of her body was burned. Her father touched her cheek as if she were made of glass, and he felt his throat squeeze at the sight.

"Why is she asleep?" Her brother asked impatiently in a breaking voice, walking towards him, furious. He looked at him, tired and discouraged, having not slept in peace either of the last two nights.

"Poppy milk. So that she does not suffer." He said calmly, but his words only angered her brother.

"So that she doesn't suffer?" He asked mockingly, stepping close to him.

Too close for his liking.

"I gave you my youngest sister to look after, and you brought her to the battlefield in the middle of a war?" He asked furiously. He did not even flinch at his words.

"My uncle's attack took us all by surprise." Said truthfully. Borros Baratheon laughed, rising from his knees, looking at him with pity.

"The Targaryens like to surprise each other, don't they, boy? Brothers take their sisters' crowns, uncles burn their nephews." He said loudly, approaching him slowly, Royce snorted, stepping back, allowing his father to speak. Lord Baratheon looked at him indulgently, his eyes red with the grief.

"You took my beloved child from me. You did not protect her. You are nothing, you and your brother. Me and my army are only here for her. Your uncle will pay me for what he did." He hissed, turning away, heading for the exit.

"I will convene a council with my commanders in an hour. Come if you still want to play at war." He threw him over his shoulder and disappeared outside.

He swallowed these humiliating words, clenching his jaw.

He was furious and it was boiling inside him, but he knew that he deserved it.

Some part of him was glad he had said it.

He had joined the meeting along with Criston Cole, leaving his wife in the care of her brother.

He knew Royce hated him, but as far as she was concerned, he trusted only him and their father.

He began the meeting by outlining what the situation was.

"My uncle has located himself in the Eyrie along with his dragon and an army transported by Clorys Velaryon. He found refuge with his wife's relatives." He said, placing a few pawns on the right side of the map.

"I suspect he wanted to pull all our armies onto the battlefield and force my brother to move to help. Then my half-sister would want to take King's Landing right away, so we can't bring all our troops here." He said calmly. Lord Baratheon laughed at his words.

"Your brother sits in his keep like a cunt. Who will support a King who takes no part in his own war? Is that not what the Hand of the King is for, to rule the state on his behalf?" He sneered, several of his commanders nodding at his words. Criston Cole moved restlessly at his side, tightening his lips. He looked at him in silence.

"It would be better for my brother not to be here. War is not his passion." He said shortly. Lord Borros laughed low at his words, leaning over the wooden table and maps before them.

"So is ruling." He hissed, Aemond casting him a warning, dark look.

"Be careful, my Lord. Your words could be considered treason." He said slowly, not taking his eye off him.

He swore to the gods.

He swore that if they spared her, he would relinquish his dreams of the throne.

That he would be a good brother.

They measured each other's gazes for a moment, then Lord Baratheon gave in, sighing heavily, and they moved on to discussing the position of the armies.

Despite the advantage he had created for himself, his uncle did not attack them again, and he did not understand why.

He figured that he had been waiting for them to make a move, watching for sure what army they would be able to assemble. He believed that he wanted to draw out as many of them as possible to take King's Landing and they couldn't let him do that.

After the council, he came out of the tent and saw, surprised that Royce was going somewhere, apparently leaving his wife alone. He approached him, frowning his eyebrows, enraged, but his brother only threw him a quick, impassive glance.

"She's awake." He said, stepping around him, and his heart froze.

She was awake.

His wife was alive and conscious.

He pressed his lips together, feeling his heart pounding, his chest tightening painfully.

He forced himself to head towards the tent and plucked up the courage to go inside.

He saw her, lying on the bedding, her eyes wide at the sight of him. They both looked at each other like that, pain, suffering and disbelief on their faces − he felt a sting in his heart seeing that her cheeks were wet, that she was crying.

That she had realised what had happened to her.

He approached her uncertainly and knelt beside her, touching her cheek gently, rubbing the wetness from her skin with his thumb, afraid that she was about to scream for him to get out.

"How are you feeling?" He asked weakly, uncertainly, feeling his throat tighten.

For some reason he felt like crying from happiness and despair at the same time, for the umpteenth time in days.

She was alive, but she would always hate him, just as he hated Luke for what he had done to him.

He saw her swallow quietly and blink, breathing unevenly, scared and tired.

"Good." She choked out, and he felt that she too spoke with difficulty.

That she was devastated by what had happened.

He saw after a moment a wave of tears gather under her eyelids, her soft lips tightened in pain, her eyebrows arched in helplessness.

He knew what she was thinking about.

She was a woman, how he perceived her physically, if he found her beautiful and desired her as a husband was an important part of her confidence.

He knew that just as he feared she would be disgusted by his lack of an eye, she feared her wounds and scars would disgust him. He, however, only dreamed that once they had healed, he would kiss them with reverence and anointing, proof of his beloved wife's devotion to him, her total commitment.

He lay down next to her, laying on his side, looking at her beautiful, warm face, the face of his wife next to whom he had woken up every morning for almost a year.

Next to his wife whom he had ripped from her father's arms and made his own, whom he had fucked all nights, filling her with his seed.

His fingertips traveled over the soft skin of her cheek − he felt a single, lonley tear of pain and suffering involuntarily fall from his eye.

"− forgive me −" He whispered in a trembling voice, looking at her pleadingly. He saw her pupils dilate, her lips tremble, pain and warmth in her gaze, a feeling that made him hot.

He shuddered and sighed as her soft hand touched his cheek, her forehead pressed against his, his lungs filled with her wonderful scent − he felt his cock pulsate hard under his armour.

He longed to unite with her body and soul.

He desired to thrust deep into her more than ever before.

He leaned towards her, his lips brushing hers, when suddenly someone stepped inside the tent. He pulled away, terrified, and rose, breathing loudly.

He looked impassively at her brother who was holding a bowl of soup, feeling his heart pounding quickly, his manhood completely hard and swollen.

"I'll take care of it." He said, reaching out for the bowl, willing him to leave them alone. Her brother snorted at his words.

"Are you caring now? Where were you when she was on fire? Why do you and your drunken brother who hides in the Red Keep like a fucking cunt, always get away with everything, while my sister is disfigured for the rest of her life?" He hissed angrily, and his insides boiled over.

His wife was not disfigured.

His wife was beautiful.

"My wife is not disfigured, Lord Royce. Nothing can disfigure her, and the wounds she has sustained will eventually heal." He said with emphasis, glaring at him menacingly.

They began to argue until his wife, impatient, told them both to leave, again on the verge of crying. Royce pressed his lips together, placing the bowl of her soup beside her bed after which he left the tent, throwing him a threatening, hateful look. He looked at her, tightening her lips.

"I won't leave." He said lowly.

Even if she didn't want to see him, he wasn't going to leave her alone.

She needed help with the dressings changes and someone had to watch over her.

He had become obsessed with it and wouldn't let anyone else near her.

"Where's Alys?" She asked indifferently, stirring a wooden spoon in her food. He pressed his lips together at the thought that she might want her to look after her instead of him.

He didn't like the idea.

"She's treating the wounded. Shall I summon her?" He asked cautiously and she shook her head, not raising her eyes at him. He sighed quietly and knelt beside her again, looking at her tenderly.

"May I stay?" He asked softly, his throat tightening again with pain and fear that she would tell him to get out. She, however, swallowed quietly and after a long moment, nodded.

He breathed a sigh of relief and summoned his servant to help him pull off his armour. They spoke for a while about the war situation and their plans, until he was left in only his shirt and breeches, and their servant finally left them alone.

He looked at her uncertainly and walked over to the bed, sitting down on it, looking at her over his shoulder, playing with his fingers.

She didn't say much and he didn't know what she was thinking, what she thought of him.

He wanted her to shout out to him that she was furious with him and hated him, but she was sweet and calm as always, and his heart was breaking.

"Can I sleep next to you?" He asked quietly and she set the empty bowl aside with a quiet hiss, apparently through a lot of discomfort, as she moved the burned part of her body. She pressed her lips together, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course. Who else would you sleep next to? Next to Alys?" She asked lowly, feigning indifference, and he hid his face in his hands, devastated by her words and the fact that she thought that he might have shared his bed with her.

"Have mercy on me. At least you." He said weakly, feeling that the last few days had worn him down and he was barely able to stay on his feet. He shuddered when he felt the touch of her hand on his shoulder − he looked at her surprised and touched her palm with his fingers, stroking it steadily.

"Lie down, husband. Rest." She said softly. He hummed under his breath and nodded, his heart beating like mad.

She didn't push him away.

He lay down on the side where she didn't have any burns, so as not to accidentally cause her pain. He touched her shoulder gently, and then her face, looking at her with dreamy, tired eye. He saw the heat and warmth in her eyes from which his cock pulsed in his breeches.

He craved her.

He craved her as he had never before in his life.

He kissed her tentatively, barely brushing her puffy lips, wanting to see how she would react to this, whether she would pull away from him, but she only sighed softly, so sweetly, so warmly that encouraged, with a pounding heart he deepened the kiss, sinking into her moist flesh, heard her moan softly as his tongue slid between her lips.

He slid his hand down her healthy thigh, placing it between her legs, running it gently over her hot, slick womanhood hidden beneath her chemise.

"− does it hurt? −" He asked low, his voice trembling, feeling her warm breath on his face.

"− no −" She whispered softly, and he already knew what he wanted to give her.

He craved it, craved the comfort of her arms, to sink deep into her and come inside her, to fill her with his seed, begging her forgiveness, assuring her of his unrelenting admiration for the beauty of her body.

But he knew that he would cause her pain, that they would have to stop and they would both be unfulfilled − he wanted her to at least experience that, to know that he wasn't just thinking about himself.

That he had changed.

He had promised the gods that he would be a better husband.

He watched with delight as she came under the touch of his hand, her hot, tight insides clenching steadily against his fingers, sweet, drawn-out moans coming from her mouth from which his cock swell with pain and desire.

She felt it and wanted to touch him, but he held her back. He didn't want her in the state she was in, with her whole body aching, to focus on him and the fact that he wanted to fuck.

However, he was under no illusion that once her wounds had healed, he would have no mercy for her.

To his despair, she would not let him help her change her bandages or apply the ointment − she wanted to do it herself and asked him to leave for that time.

He tried to explain to her that he was the last person to be impressed by such a sight, but he accepted that she felt uncomfortable, that the state of her body filled her with pain, uncertainty and saddness.

Her father's maester who had travel with them from Storm's End took over her care, and he was the only one she allowed to examine herself.

Everytime he left he questioned him thoroughly and was relieved each time the medic told him that her wounds were healing properly and scarring slowly − she no longer had open wounds and her skin no longer ached, but it was still red.

Although they had always slept bare until now, his wife now wore long nightdresses covering her body − she did not want him to look at her and tied the material up, so that not a scrap of burned skin could be seen.

He suffered at the sight, but he did not want to force her to do anything against her will.

On the first day when she no longer had to wear the dressings, she smiled at him as she had before all this happened, walking around the tent and speaking about something lightly.

He watched her, sitting on their bedding, waiting for her to join him and untangle her braid.

The Maester had told her that with quick attention to the burns and their proper care the wounds would heal better and be less visible than originally thought.

Looking at her, behaving again as she had when they were in King's Landing, he felt desire and had the impression that he would explode − for days he had lain beside her at night, unable to touch her, to feel her, and ashamed to relieve himself with his hand in her presence.

He felt like he was going to go mad.

When she extinguished the last candle and he felt her slip under the covers, her warmth right beside him, he thought that he couldn't take it anymore.

"− turn your back on me −" He gasped, seeing how she wanted to cling to his chest. He saw her surprised look, however, she did meekly what he asked.

He immediately pressed his swollen manhood hidden in his breeches against her buttocks, clenching his hand on her healthy hip, pressing his face against her neck, rubbing himself against her with intense, rocking movements.

"−  gods, I need this −" He exhaled helplessly and felt her whole body tremble − she began to breathe faster, her buttocks bucking against his cock, making a low, helpless sound came from his throat.

"−  me too −  please −" She moaned softly, embarrassed by their shared desperation − she pulled her nightgown up as he quickly untied his breeches and lowered them, his hard, swollen erection slapping against her bare skin.

They were both panting loudly as his hands quickly lifted her hips, directing the fat head of his cock to her puffy, moist slit. Unable to stop himself, he slided into her with one, sure thrust of his hips, deep, all the way in, making a low, almost animalistic sound.

He tightened his hand on her hip and began to slam into her like a mad, panting and moaning along with her, their bodies hot and yearning, hitting against each other with a sticky, loud slaps each time he slid into her again, streching her tight, throbbing walls apart.

"− gods, yes − I missed that − fuck, tell me if it hurts −" He exhaled helplessly, fucking her with all his might, possessed only by lust, pounding into her so deeply that she sobbed in front of him, clasping her hands over his palms, her hips responding fervently to his every thrust.

"− oh, yes − Aemond, please, harder −" She mumbled pleadingly, and those words were enough to make him lose control completely.

He slipped out of her suddenly and forced her to lie on her back. He spread her legs in front of him, paying no attention to the fact that she was trying to cover the burns on her thigh − he took her hand away, not allowing her to cover herself, untying her shirt, wanting to reveal her breasts.

"− no −." She whispered pleadingly, gripping his wrists. "− please −"

He hesitated, seeing her face, terrified and hot, tears filling in her eyes.

He thought that she was beautiful.

That she was his.

He pulled his eye patch from his eye and saw her draw in a loud breath as he removed the sapphire from his eye socket in one sure movement, setting it down on the bed beside them.

That was just the way he was.

He knew what she saw before her.

There was a dark hole in the left side of his face, partially obscured by his drooping eyelid − him, without any embellishment or pretense, his body, scarred and disfigured in all its glory.

He saw her lift her trembling hand and touch his cheek with a sweet, warm smile on her face.

Her touch as always gentle, tender, full of acceptance.

He thought he loved her.

"− let me fuck my wife the way I want to −" He gasped, grasping the strings from her nightgown with his fingers, but this time her hands did not stop him. He slipped her shirt off her shoulders, one light, the other red, slightly cracked like thirsty earth − he stared at her, thinking that he felt nothing but adoration for her.

He exposed her wonderful, plump breasts, spreaded her legs and knelt in front of her, slipping with ease into her slick, leaking cunt. He began to root into into her even more intensely and brutally than before, panting and moaning along with her, her body writhing beneath him with pleasure and indecision, her hands clenching helplessly on his shirt, her gaze expressing a plea for fulfilment.

"− just like that − a good husband knows what's best for his wife − he knows how to fuck her to make her feel good −" He exclaimed, licking his lips with his tongue, feeling that he was on the verge of orgasm as much as she was. She cried out at his words, his thighs slapping against her buttocks loudly and perversely, their shared juices leaking onto the bedding beneath them. "− isn't that right? −"

"− yes −" She mewled, giving herself to him completely, his cock rubbing against her upper wall with each thrust, bringing her body to spasms with pleasure, her lips parted wide in sweet moans.

"− oh gods, please − fuck me − fuck me − fuck me! −" She sobbed loudly and he moaned low at her words, his thrusts deep, quick and sure.

"− my sweetest − oh, fuck! −" He exhaled, tilting his head back, feeling her walls begin to clench around him in orgasm, squeezing his seed out of him, his fulfilment strong, even painfully pleasurable.

He felt like they were both screaming in the rapture, all sweaty, hungry for their closeness.

He collapsed on top of her and she hissed loudly − he rose immediately on his elbows, looking at her horrified.

"− forgive me −" He whispered, wanting to slide out of her immediately and take the weight of his body off her, but her hands stopped him.

"− no − please −" She mumbled, looking at him embarrassed. "− just a moment longer −"

He looked at her and hummed under his breath, leaning over her again, this time being careful not to crush her with his body. He kissed her lips, running his nose over her face.

He thought with surprise that he no longer cared what he looked like.

He'd fucked her without his eye patch, without his sapphire in his eyesocket and experienced one of the best fulfillments of his life.

He smiled at the thought and she blinked, stroking his cheek with her hand, her breathing calming slowly.

"− the stone in your eye is causing you pain − you don't have to wear it in my presence, my beloved −" She said quietly, and he felt his heart squeeze at her words.

"I will not, if you also do not veil yourself from me. Your body is meant to be bare for me every night."

_____

Taglist

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[dunmeshichilchuck]

For That One Guy on Tumblr part 10

Chilchuck x !fem !halffoot reader

TW: discussion of head injuries, concussion, blood.

You hit the ground with a *THUMP*, you and Chilchuck half cushioned by each other's bodies. Your head still ricochets off the floor with a *CRACK*. 

You wake up. Or maybe you were always awake. You don't know. You lay there for...a while. It's nice. It's comfy. There's no beaks and claws and wings. No falling. You feel pleasantly cushioned from whatever is happening, your head and ears ringing faintly. 

Some time passes. 

Slowly you become aware that there is...sticky liquid on you. A lot of sticky liquid. Huh. That doesn't feel nice. 

Oh. 

Fuck. 

Oh fuckohfuckohfuckohfuckohgodohno

You lurch to a semi sitting position and manage to slur out. 

"CHILCHUCK."

The room is dark and you can't see shit but he's still half wrapped around you, and he's. He's not cold at the least. There's that. You've been out for a while, right? He'd be cold, right? You know what a dead body feels like.

You frantically fumble around to find his neck and press your fingers to the thick vein running up the side of it. For a moment, you think there's nothing there, and then you feel the faintest flutter. 

He's alive. 

You breathe out in relief, no way you could rez him, and there's a solid chance you'll never see the party again. You wouldn't have been able to get him back to the surface before he rotted off the bone. A death now means a death for real. No taking it back. No tricksy magics. No second chances. 

Your still foggy brain scrambles around for a plan. You need to heal him. You have to heal him. But you can't see anything....

Light. You need light. But you can't leave him, and you'll need every ounce of magic you have in you for the healing. 

For the first time, you realize it's not *quite* fully pitch black. You can make out the dim outline of your hands. 

You glance around, each shift of your head bringing a new wave of pain. 

There's a thin crack of light a few feet away from you, off to your right. 

*Like an angel* you think, half delirious. 

You carefully extricate yourself from the heap of tangled limbs that is Chilchuck and crawl over to the door. Even concussed and in the dark, it's a matter of seconds to pick the flimsy lock. You almost feel a sense of professional scorn. You ease the door open, letting light spill into the room. 

It's empty, thankfully, just a standard store room or guard room or whatever it was supposed to be, not even any crates or barrels. Unfortunately it's empty of any holes in the wall that could have dumped you there as well. More labyrinth fuckery. 

The door opens into a hallway lit by torches, no movement or sounds there either. You only open the door enough to let what light you need in though, no sense in being stupid. 

You crawl back over to Chilchuck, not quite ready to test your balance yet.

He doesn't look good, sprawled limply out on the floor, breath shallow.

Automatically, you look him over and catalogue the injuries. To your relief, it's not as bad, or at least not as complicated, as you had initially feared. There's a lot of blood but the only obvious life threatening injury is the head wound he sustained from the hippogriff. Anything else will have to wait. 

You take a deep breath and lay your hands on his blood covered head. The words come slowly and haltingly, you wrestle them through the slow moving fog of your mind, but you get there in the end. 

The blood flows back and his eyes open, he sits straight up with a gasp. The backlash hits you at almost the same time, and you double over, making sure to vomit *away* from him. 

Through the spinning haze of mana sickness you see him glance around, take stock of his surroundings and you on the ground, and very calmly say. "What the fuck?"

And then you suppose you finally, mercifully, pass out. Letting the darkness and the spinning haze of colors take you at last. 

When you wake up you're surprisingly comfortable, you feel warm and groggy and your head is resting on something more comfortable than the hard stone floor, and you hear the crackle of a fire. For a very confusing half a second you wonder blearily if someone got a bed into the dungeon. Then you realize you're half draped over someone's lap, carefully arranged on your side.

Panicking slightly, you start to lever yourself up into a sitting position but a firm hand lands on your shoulder and stops you. 

"No. Give yourself a second." 

You relax. It's just Chilchuck. Thank fuck.

He sighs and says "You scared the shit out of me. Didn't know if you were going to wake up." 

You settle back down a little awkwardly. You groan a bit, your head spinning. "What happened?" 

"Whats the last thing you remember?" 

Chilchucks voice is soft, you can tell he's trying to be gentle and careful. Surprisingly considerate coming from him. 

You squint, pushing your aching brain back. "There was...a monster."

He makes a hum of agreement. "And then what?"

Still that same gentle tone. It's starting to freak you out a bit. He must've really been scared. The hand is still resting on your shoulder, whether for your comfort or his or because he hasn't noticed it's still there. Or perhaps because he thinks you're going to make a break for it. Whatever, you don't exactly mind it. 

"The....we fell down...something. there was..." 

You try to sit up again. "There was blood! Holy SHIT there was a lot of blood." 

His hand presses down again, arm coming around to gently press you back into him. "Easy! Easy. Everything's fine. We're all okay. I'm okay, you're okay."

You settle down again, head spinning from your sudden exertion. "Okay....now I think I remember. We landed in here. I healed you and then I passed out...yeah?" 

"Yeah. That was another stupid thing to do." 

There's no bite to his voice, he just sounds tired. 

You snort and then groan again as your head throbs. "You keep saying that."

"Yeah well make smarter decisions and I'll stop saying it."

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[the-fluff-piece]

"He did WHAT?" - one piece guys dealing with your toxic asshole ex - headcanon

Summary: lots of people have one - the toxic asshole ex boyfriend that did some horrible stuff to you. You told your new OP bf about what your previous relationship was like after some time to explain some of your more unusual behaviours. What might happen when they get the chance to serve that dick some revenge?

A fluff collection of headcanons about Law, Sanji, Zoro and Luffy giving that bastard what he deserves.

And check out my headcanon masterlist

Cw: mentions of unspecific abusive behaviours and trauma responses, and of course, comic violence like it happens in the show.

That said...Enjoy some revenge fantasies! Share in the comments what you want them to do to your asshole ex!

Disclaimer, I feel I need to say this) : I am no psychiatrist! This is just some silly headcanons and in no way a real help. If you feel that things people did to you years ago still haunt you, get professional help, it's really good!

Law

When he first hears the story about how you have been treated, his expression darkens. "I am here now, he's gone" is what he tells you - and himself, too. But it gnaws at him. He hates manipulators that put people in literal or psychological cages. And he hates that it happened to you.

When they meet in person, Law will rearrange your ex's body and is open for your suggestions. Why not replace his head with a cannonball and take his dick as a trophy? He doesn't need to spew abusive bullshit anymore and no one needs his sexual attention anyways.

Law will sleep better, knowing that he did to him what you wouldn't have because you are too good a person

He is not one for elaborate compliments and he is no therapist, but he will try to help healing the wounds you sustained by being the most supportive and positive boyfriend you ever had. If you need his shoulder, he is there. If you feel bad, he will do anything to make you feel better. He will not make you do anything you don't feel comfortable with.

Sanji

As you casually tell him about your past relationship he catches fire and has to run around the ship a few times to cool down. He switches between pampering you extra, extra EXTRA nice and angry mutterings to himself. He promises you if he ever meets that guy, he is going to kick him through all the grand line and back again

When the moment comes, Sanji switches into total ruffian mode. You have never heard that string of merciless trash talk from anyone before and it doesn't take long until he has totally set off your ex, luring him into throwing the first punch. It is, of course, futile, but Sanji takes his time to finish him off. He should, after all, learn that no one should hurt his lady.

He is visibly relieved to have finally gotten revenge for the unacceptable things that guy did to you. He is awaiting your praise eagerly.

Since he knows what it feels like first hand, he feels even closer to you and tells you his stories if you want to hear them. You will heal together, in time. The memories will fade and be replaced with better ones you make together. You support each other in breaking through the self harming behaviour you developed.

Zoro

His initial reaction to your explanations about why you still feel uncomfortable doing certain things is total helplessness. He cannot fathom that someone would ever take the time and effort to systematically destroy their partner. He believes you, but it is so far out of his own experience that it is hard to grasp for him.

It makes him angry, however. Because that dickhead insulted you you feel insecure? What can be broken can be fixed is Zoro's motto, so he will comment positively on everything every time. Even though he is not very creative, his compliments come from the heart, and you feel it.

When he finally meets the guy he is a bit disappointed. That is no worthy opponent. He doesn't honor him with the use of his swords. Zoro will grab him by the collar and throw him off the next cliff. "For what you did to y/n, you coward."

The job is finished, no need to talk about it anymore and forget the bastard ever existed.

Luffy

When you merely tell him about it he will think you got over it just like he doesn't stay angry for long. But when you cry the first time or refuse to do something fun because of him he realises that you are still affected by what happened to you. He will not have it.

When they meet and your shitty ex makes a mean comment? Luffy gets his murder expression and punches that guy to the other side if the city.

You get luffys hat whenever you need emotional support. No questions asked. You get to sit in his favourite spot whenever you want to. You even get the last bite of delicious food if it's what you need.

[clone-anon-after-dark]

Healing

ARC Trooper Fives x Nymph Reader

Fives Lives AU with Prompt "Waking Up in a Dark Forest and Remembering Nothing"

Warnings: mention of Fives' death and the GAR's treatment of clones as disposable, mention of blaster wound, bed sharing, cuddling, hand holding, new relationship, some angst with hope

A/N: I have not been able to write much for months now, but wanted to make an effort for this prompt

Word Count: 1,330

Submitted as part of @pinahallowsevecloneparty

You moved through the forest with ease. It was midday and usually very quiet. Your clothing brushed against familiar tree bark as you climbed branches and quietly moved from limb to limb. You paused and silently watched as several officers dumped a carbonite capsule and at least a dozen broken ship parts. The war was over, supposedly at least. What was the new Empire doing just dumping all this in the middle of Endor? And was that a person frozen in time?

"What do we do with him?" one man asked.

"Pretty sure he's dead," another replied.

"Then why is he on ice? He was an ARC. Look at the pauldrons. You'd think his brothers would care."

The officer shrugged in response. What they didn't know was that this man was thought dead before being frozen and stored away with a pile of junk. The Emperor made sure he remained in cold silence; incapable of being examined by anyone wanting to investigate his brain now missing its chip.

You stayed perched above the scene and watched until the imperials left. They were starting to take over this part of the forest and you didn't like it. They would come to this area and dump things, but not even in any kind of coordinated pile. It was like tossing trash off the side of a speeder, but on a larger scale. Your home was not a place to leave unwanted scraps and certainly not a person. You took a breath and closed your eyes. You sensed the faintest bit of life coming from the frozen casket. Curious, you climbed down to investigate further as the stars began shining through the canopy. There wasn't much to do besides release him and see if you could help.

You pushed the carbonite chamber so it hovered over a bed of large leaves. It was better than landing on machine parts. You punched a few buttons and the carbonite immediately started melting away. The solidified face reemerged from its tomb and you couldn't help but smile when his nose crinkled right before the man fell bum first into the pile of leaves.

You knelt down next to him as he started coughing. He was practically begging for breath. He had sustained a near-mortal injury which was now clearly visible. You closed your eyes and instinctively rubbed his back. You felt like he might slip away, and so you reached inside yourself to drag out any bit of life you could give him. He gripped his chest, but you could feel the wound healing. He finally opened his eyes and searched yours.

"I-" he gasped again. "Who-"

"Don't be afraid," you replied softly. "You're safe here."

"My chest... it-" He struggled to find words.

"Does it feel any better?" you asked. He simply nodded and tried to get his breathing under control. You sat with him as he got his bearings.

"What's your name?" you asked.

"I'm not sure," he answered. "I'm not sure what happened."

"Come with me then." You stood and held out your hand. The man took it and followed you.

You were used to getting around through the tree tops and moving light as a feather. This trip home took over twice the usual amount of time, but you didn't mind. You felt this man had been wronged in more ways than one and needed someone.

"What's the last thing you remember?" you asked in an attempt to make some kind of conversation.

"I don't know. I don't know my name and never mind anything else."

After several minutes he took in a sharp breath with his first memory.

"My friend is gone. My brothers are gone. I wish I could remember," was all he could muster. "It feels so hazy." After a few more minutes he asked, "Did I die?"

"I'm not sure," you replied. "It seems someone wanted you dead. Based on what the imperials said it seems someone very powerful wanted you gone and wanted your body hidden."

The man's face twisted in a mess of pain and confusion. Imperials? What did that mean?

You stopped and looked at him under the glow of the stars. You gave him your name. He simply smiled at you, still trying to figure it all out.

"I'm a nymph." You just came out and said it. You could feel he was trying to figure out why his wound had mostly healed. "I can heal people. Some call it the Force, but we don't really use that word among my kind. I sensed you and found you. That's all I know right now."

"How many of you are there?" he asked.

"Fewer now. We tend to hide."

You pulled back a nearly impossible-to-find curtain of branches and let him inside your home. He took off his armor and was grateful for the opportunity to clean up and eat something. He insisted on taking the couch, but you didn't sleep well. He was out for over half a day. A serious rest was exactly what he needed.

Over the course of the next few months he started to remember more. One look in the mirror at his tattoo and he was reminded of his name. Then the names of his brothers. Then how he had so many brothers. It wasn't long before you told him about the fall of the Republic. Fives felt frozen. What about Rex? Did Rex know he was alive? Surely Rex wouldn't abandon him. You could see the gears turning in his head as he tried to figure out what he was missing.

"Fives?"

"Hmm?"

You nodded toward the door and headed outside. Whenever his memory gaps frustrated him, you went for a walk. Fives loved seeing you care for the creatures of the forest and at times could have sworn he heard other voices giggling from above; other nymphs out of sight but keeping a watch on their friend and the stranger who was starting to make himself at home.

As you made your way back, Fives reached for your hand. It felt small in his own, but he held yours with a gentle strength. You smiled up at him and gave his hand a little squeeze.

"Don't stay on the couch tonight," you said. His grin turned into a big smile and he followed you back to the bedroom. He knew something was there, but he'd never experienced this feeling to this degree. Fives never wanted to push things and certainly not when he was trying to figure out his past, his life, his purpose, but maybe this was part of his purpose. You were part of his life and the reason he survived.

The bedroom wasn't large, but it was enough to be comfortable. He held you close to his chest and sighed almost comically.

"Now this is healing," he said, making you giggle. He nuzzled his face against yours and sighed, peacefully this time.

"Fives?"

"Mh?"

"You need to find him, don't you?"

"Who?"

"You know who. Rex. You've been thinking about Rex."

"I don't even know if he's still alive, cyar'ika."

"Exactly. Finding him or figuring out what happened to him would be a good place to start," you replied. "And I could go with you."

Fives pulled back and searched your face. "But you've never left this forest."

You shrugged. "The galaxy is changing, I was meant to be here for when you came, but now it's time for something new. Fives, I've lived here for over a century. I'm getting older and it's time."

"You don't look old," he tried to joke.

"Nymphs don't age like clones," you countered with a hint of sass. "We've been over this."

He smiled in contemplation. "What if I'm the last clone?" he asked.

"You're not," you said, shaking your head and caressing his face. "I can sense it. Somewhere out there are your brothers."

"Then I should find them."

And you would. Both of you. Together.

[randomwriteronline]

"Come with me," Gali said suddenly, and took her hand: "Come with me, I want to see something."

Kiina was so stunned by the feeling of her hand (the cuts in the protodermis so deep and plastic, like wounds stuck in time never to be healed fully, and the smoothness of a metal that wasn't that cold to the touch, just like most organic things) that when the saltwater lapped at her knees it was like snapping awake from a dream.

The Toa had surprised her as she was looking out into the ocean. She'd missed it so much, she had joked nervously, and now that she had it back she wasn't even sure she remembered how to swim!

Gali had laughed with her: she would have been glad to teach her, she'd said in the same easy tone.

"Right now?" Kiina almost hollered in her face, trying to pull back.

The gentle hold on her palm did not budge: "It's an experiment," Gali replied - they were talking about completely different things, but she couldn't know the Glatorian was still dwelling on her offer - as she guided her deeper into the waters like a female Nokken: "I want to see something. But don't worry, I won't let anything happen to you."

She struggled to babble something, and by the time the faint idea of a sentence had formed in her mind she was tiptoeing on the sand to keep her head above the waves.

"Wait," she sputtered at last, "Wait, hold on, it's- I told you, it's been a while since I was back in--"

"It's alright, I've got you," Gali reassured her. She was warm, her touch having the same consistency of ocean water if ever so slightly more forceful: her fingers were interlaced with Kiina's in a strange, playful manner, like a kid sharing a secret. "I won't let anything happen to you. Now just take a deep breath, come down with me, and when you see my mask glow try to breathe normally."

Come down with me, she said.

And breathe normally.

"Under the water?"

The Toa only smiled and sank into the waves, her mask melting completely beneath them.

Kiina waited for a moment more as she searched for her to no avail, trying to tell her apart from the vibrant blues surrounding them; at last she turned her eyes to the vibrant aventurine sky, inhaled as hard and as loud as she could until her lungs felt about to burst, pursed her lips tighter than she could, and sank.

The weightlessness enveloped her like an old blanket.

Tajun's waters were sweet and thin, made for satiating thirst and washing away sand, but they had never managed to sustain her in their hold like the heavier currents of the ocean she had waded through when she was only a girl could.

Hadn't she had this exact dream before? Again and again, comfortable and warm and safe, hoping to awaken to something other than an endless beach with no end in sight.

When she opened her eyes the salinity burnt them, making her blink hastily to ease them.

Through her blurry vision she stared right at Gali.

She smiled at her through her bright mask.

Her voice was magnificently clear when she spoke: "Try to breathe."

Kiina exhaled without thinking. She watched her breath disappear upwards in ugly bubbles a little dumbly; at least, she reasoned momentarily, in one of those bursts of lucidity that comes at the most inopportune times, she had the good sense of breathing with her mouth instead of her nose. At least she would just get a disgusting gulp of saltwater instead of clogging her nose with it.

But the water flowed in and out of her lungs without hurting, clear and easy - just like air.

She inhaled again, and again through her nose, this time, first deeper and then faster each time, looking down at her chest: rise, fall, rise, fall, no pain, no tingling no effort, as naturally and as easily as though everything was just normal, as though she were still on land.

She looked up to meet glowing eyes radiating a smile.

"What?" she asked.

Her voice turned garbled for a moment in the water, but smoothed out quickly as the sounds left her.

Gali simply laughed. She leaped through the water like fish, a mermaid, swirling around Kiina in a mesmerizingly fluid spiral motion out of herself with joy.

The Glatorian struggled to find her gaze again in the whirlpool of her happiness, finding herself overwhelmed by her speed and ending up spinning in place like a top; when both of them finally stopped she pointed at her throat, flabbergasted: "Are you doing this?"

The Toa nodded giddily.

"But I - how? Is it, is it your powers?"

"Of course!"

"You can do this?"

"I can!"

"With your powers?"

"Yes! Yes, with my--"

"You - I didn't know! I didn't even imagine you could- you can just - make water breatheable? With your elemental power?"

At that, Gali stilled. She cocked her head slightly, for only a second, and then she laughed again - a transparent laugh, crackling and tingling with mirth, crashing out of her chest and into Kiina's: "Oh, no! No, no, I can't do that, it's my mask!" she explained as she kept laughing heartily.

It was a powerful sound, befitting an ancient and seasoned warrior such as herself; it was a stumbling, excited sound, like that of a kid having too much fun to stop despite her stomach cramping.

Kiina felt faint.

"Your mask?" she repeated.

"Kaukau," the Toa nodded, "Mask of Water Breathing."

"What would you need it for?"

"We have lungs too, don't you know?"

She blushed furiously: "Well, I - we assumed, since you're- the- you lot don't really look like you would have them, what with all the - the metal- protodermis bones, and - and - don't laugh!"

Gali did not answer: she merely raised her shoulders defensively, innocently, hiding her quiet chuckles within them.

Her demeanor reminded Kiina of someone, a young aunt of hers - the daughter of a man who'd been like a grandparent to her ages ago; she had the same sweet air of mischief about her, the same sort of glint in her eye, the same playful tension as though she was about to dash away at any moment to lose herself in a crowd, hiding in plain sight. The last time she'd seen something like it again after the Shattering had been in a rookie who hadn't survived the first night through the desert and whose armor she had sold off after finding her bones picked clean.

She had been pretty.

Maybe.

A hand grabbing onto hers stirred her from her musings.

"Stay close," Gali told her, and that was all the warning she was allowed to have; in a second she was being dragged further down, down, to the faraway sands of deeper submerged beaches.

The light formed strange columns above her head, moving much like graceful silken curtains; the waves muddled the sky's view, allowing only momentary holes through which vibrant blue canvases could peek down at the two beings sprinting towards the reefs.

"Wait-" Kiina gasped "-Wait, wait - you'll pull out my arm like this!"

Before she even realized it her arms were wrapped around a metal neck in a tight hug.

"Better?" Gali asked. Her voice smiled.

"Better," she wheezed back, barely audible.

She could feel every twitch of her exposed muscle against her skin, how the smooth protodermis pressed onto her biceps. When the Toa resumed her fluid rush downwards Kiina was pulled back by inertia, and the mechanical throat pulsed against her wrists.

There was so much she had almost forgotten. The fish, for one; so many, of so many colors, in so many shapes, alone or in swarms, each with their own swimming pattern - and the angry clacks of clams and molluscs as they passed them by, the scuttling beasts squirming beneath the sand or those retreating in their little caves along the rocky formations growing taller the deeper they sank. A few curious shrimps kept them in check with their bulbous eyes before hurrying away, little legs scurrying across the waters while they waves their long whiskers at them as if crossed - in a way that reminded one of Whenua, and one of Strakk. They both laughed about it quietly, each to herself.

Corals crept towards the surface in honeycomb formations, red hues pulsing warmly as the light hit them, and large leaved kelps caressed the reefs in ondulating movements as the tides swept over them gently. Thinner algae covered rocks in a sort of fuzz the color of petroleum: sea sheep and other slugs treaded through them at a surprising pace compared to their land-dwelling cousins.

Would they have tasted the same?

She shook her head, nuzzling Gali's nape. This wasn't the time to think of food.

Her attention was turned to the side by a gentle tug at her elbow to look at a large creature, a being whose name she did not know, that blindly flew past them whilst carrying a small school of tinier fish beneath its vast belly: she watched them struggle to flutter their little transparent fins in an attempt to match its speed as it barely moved a muscle, gliding through the currents with enviable ease.

Suddenly the Toa turned, twirling on herself horizontally with a vibrant sound similar to a whale song; Kiina fumbled for a moment, letting go after only a couple rounds of spinning as she struggled to get her bearings again. When her brain settled still once again in her skull, she was laying on nothing, looking upwards, and had to blink quickly before she was blinded by what at first she thought were fallen stars - because the sunlight filtering through the waves turned Gali's yellow eyes into glowing plasma, clear and hot and glowing stronger than anything.

She realized, numbly, that the Toa was floating right above her.

"I missed this," she confided in her, mask close to her face, with a crystalline voice full of excitement.

Kiina stared into the lack of pupils: "Me too," she grinned, breathless.

They laughed quietly.

"Ah - you must have missed this much more than me," Gali mused; her body floated upwards until it was perpendicular to the ground, holding onto the Glatorian by the hand, fingers interlaced with hers. "I forget it's been so little since I last was in these waters... And yet it feels like ten thousand years."

"Only ten thousand?" Kiina chuckled.

"It's a lot for me! I've been awake for so little!" the other whined. What a strange sound to hear come out of her mouth. The unusual nature of her own reaction made her shake with an electric giggle.

The Glatorian allowed herself to snicker with her: "You talk just like a kid," she teased.

"You're the first to accuse me of such a thing."

"Who else could have? Your elders - the Turaga? What are they, twenty years older than you? Thirty?"

"I am older than them!"

"By what, two weeks?"

A rogue tide swept her head up in itself, tussling what little hair she had that wasn't buzzed exactly like an annoyed kid would; despite the commotion she cracked open an eye to see Gali squinting at her in the spit image of a pout, and she laughed harder.

It didn't take long for the Toa to join her.

She looked just like that rookie. All bright eyes and broad shoulders, warm voice and slender hands. Power and grace, levity and strength. A certain impatience that made her muscles leap excitedly.

Armor that would have rusted in the desert, sanded down by the dunes, abandoned beneat the sun.

Memories of a beloved ocean.

"Let's elope," Kiina said. Then again, louder, smiling wider as anxiety stirred in her chest painfully: "Let's elope, you and I!"

"You and I?"

"Just us! Across the ocean!" and she kicked at the water, pulling herself over the Gali, interlacing their fingers tighter: "Breathing won't be an issue, and neither will food or sleep - we can swim through the whole ocean, just us! Visiting reefs and following schools of fish and-"

"And pods of whales!" Gali interrupted her.

"Yes!" Kiina cried out: "And we can find islands! We can find islands, or sunken cities, and explore the depths, and, and chart new shores! We can swim all the way to the other end of the planet!"

They were caught in a small cyclone now, swimming in a circle that trapped them within its vortex as they spun more and more, feeding one another's excitement more and more as their excitement grew, louder, louder, promising the moon and the stars and the sun and imagining a life without strife - just water, water, water, colorful fish swimming around them, an endless world to discover, endless, covered in anemones and algae and corals and kelp upon reefs and sands, scuttling with claws and thin legs and curious eyes, shimmering with scales and thin slivers of light above them...

She went limpand allowed the water to move her, heaving breathlessly as she grinned hard enough to make her face hurt.

Yellow eyes gleamed at her.

She held tighter onto the protodermis hands.

Gali laughed louder; the top of her mask, scratched and weathered, pressed against the Glatorian's forehead.

Her heartlight was beautifully bright.

Kiina felt like she might have died.

"I should tell my brothers first," Gali said, grinning, still elated. "They would tear me a new mask if I disappeared so suddenly."

Water flowed in her lungs.

For a moment, she was drowning.

"Yes," Kiina agreed finally, still smiling, body slack, "Yes, Ackar would never let me hear the end of it. And for all he might say otherwise Berix would bawl his eyes out so hard he'd end up shriveled up like a dried sand plum."

The Toa giggled: "Ah, of course, of course," she nodded. "And Hahli would never forgive me, either - off to the sea? Without her?"

Her tone ripped a laugh from her companion: "How dare you."

"Exactly," she continued, so amused. The tint of sadness in the voice speaking to her was lost on her. "And Macku too - oh, no, no, I'd have to bring along all of Ga-Koro. They would be capable of following us the whole way on the worst raft you've ever seen just to chew me out for not inviting them all to come with. Oh no, no - oh, it would have to be a whole expedition!"

Her laugh was warm and sunny, so genuine, so entertained.

She understood the bindings of family, like she understood the call of the sea, the longing for its weightlessness, its colors, its terrible taste that left a throat parched and rough.

She understood love so perfectly, deeply, powerfully well.

But not like this.

Not like this.

Maybe just not yet.

But not like this.

Not now.

Kiina tried to move her legs idly and found them turned to lead.

She understood love so well.

But not like this.

"We'd have to get a ship," she mused. Her hands sank into Gali's. "A real one with sails and motors and a beautiful lady on the front. Haven't been on one in a while. Could be fun."

"A lady on the front?"

"Of course."

"What for?"

"For decoration."

The Toa blinked, baffled: "Why would you want that?"

"That's how it was on old vessels."

"But why?"

"Why not? Can't a ship have a beautiful lady on the front?"

Her thigh had floated upward like a piece of lifeless wood. It brushed again the other's armor, and the contact stung like a sand bat's bite.

"You make a fair point," Gali chuckled.

Kiina smiled at her.

Hopefully he didn't look too sad.

"Here, here," the Toa said suddenly, collecting her in her arms with a newfound hurry: "Let's go back now. I've kept you here long enough, your family might be worried."

"It's fine," the Glatorian fought weakly, though only with words. She watched, passive, as her limbs were placed around the mechanical body once more, as her frame was molded to embrace the beautiful being again. "It's fine, there's still time. I like it here with you."

Gali smiled at her - so, so sweetly: "I like it too. But it's better to go back now."

Not answering, Kiina wrapped herself tighter around the mass of muscle and protodermis. Her face nuzzled against the metallic nape again, eyes shut, as they left behind the world of her childhood, of her momentary fantasy, to reach the surface again.

She did not see the heartlight stutter confusedly at her contact; but after all, Gali did not either.

[cheesy09]

[CN] Kiro's Unbiased Mirroring Mind's Quest (Part 1)

🌸 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date that hasn't been released on the EN server yet! 🌸

[Note: This date was translated with the help of Google Translate :>]

Note: In order to better engage with this date, please read the main story (Season 1 at least), Clinic Date, and Unconditional Surrender Mind's Quest :>

——*:･ﾟ✧——*:･ﾟ✧——

[PART 1]

Kiro: Hiss--

I apply the ointment to the long and narrow wound on his arm. The brightly-colored cut looks particularly shocking against Kiro's fair skin.

Kiro frowns with an exaggerated expression, his blue eyes moist from being wronged.

Kiro: Be a little gentler.

MC: Cut the act. Hmph.

MC: The current pain is your punishment for secretly fighting the bad guys again!

I deliberately put on a cold front, but when I bring down the cotton swab again, I am still three points gentler.

Recently, it's been pretty rare for Kiro and I to get a few days off to relax at the same time. And just as we were about to spend a leisurely time together, the letter S with its sharp hook came to disturb us.

I had already been super depressed since our vacation had been interrupted by BS, but I never expected Kiro to come back with an injury!

It was so unfair! So infuriating!

Seeing my frown deepen further and further, Kiro quickly raises his other hand and gently strokes my cheek.

Kiro: This injury was really an accident. I promise, I won't use force to solve the problem next time!

MC: It's not a matter of force, it's...

I bite my lower lip, slightly distressed, and raise my eyes to look at him.

MC: I know that there a lot of troublesome things that you have to deal with at BS.

MC: But you're already their boss. Aren't there some things that you can assign to your subordinates?

MC: Kiro, I'm really worried about you.

Kiro: ......

Kiro slightly parts open his lips, then purses them again.

His hand slips from my chin and gently covers the back of my hand.

Kiro: I get what you mean. I promise I'll do that next time.

MC: There are too many things you "promise to do next time". I need to get you to swear it.

I purse my lips and stretch out my fingers towards him. Kiro laughs, hooks my finger, and gently presses the pad of his thumb against it.

By the time the last wound was taken care of, it was getting late.

I pat the fluffy quilt and pull Kiro onto the bed.

Kiro: Wait, are we going to sleep at this hour?

MC: Of course. The wounded must rest well so that the wound can heal quickly.

Kiro: That's fine, but...

Kiro's tone seems hesitant. He glances at the time.

Kiro: Can you wake me up in three hours?

MC: Huh? Is there something else you need to do?

Kiro: The time for the limited time event of that game we were recently playing is in three hours from now. I want to beat the event.

MC: Kiro.

I groan angrily and glare at him.

MC: Article 197 of the Kiro-Chips Code - The wounded are not allowed to play games!

Kiro: But I'm only missing the last five percent of my mission. I'm begging the best Miss Chips in the world...

Kiro: Don't you trust the efficiency of my skills? I'll complete it in no time, then lie down and get a good rest!

Here comes this trick again. As long as he uses that tone and the words "best Miss Chips", there's nothing I can do against him.

MC: ...Fine, then I'll supervise you.

Kiro cheers and quickly gets into bed, sleeping in a more elaborate posture than that of a prince in a fairy tale movie.

Perhaps it's because his tense nerves relaxed so completely after sustaining an injury. After he lays down and we don't say anything, his long eyelashes stop trembling and his breathing slows down.

MC: ...Looks like he was really tired.

I gently tuck him in, then sit on the sofa nearby and start doing my own thing.

The night gradually thickens and three hours fly by quickly. I press the vibrating reminder on my phone and turn my eyes to the bed.

MC: Kiro, please get up...

Kiro: ......

The response I receive is even, shallow breathing.

I move closer, lean against the pillow and lower my voice.

MC: Didn't you say you had to complete a task? It's time to wake up.

Kiro: Mm...

Kiro just frowns slightly and then stops responding.

MC: Anyway, I know your account and password, how about... I just help you complete the task?

MC: As for you, just sleep peacefully.

I poke Kiro's cheek, move the computer to his side and log into the game.

I had also wanted to participate in this event during the early stages, but I couldn't stand the high difficulty level. So I just got a few basic rewards and then called it a day.

Kiro, on the other had, has been soaring through the event rankings with great vigor, and now has a score that is beyond my reach.

MC: Hiss... why do I feel that the higher the points, the more difficult the monsters become to defeat...

MC: AHHHHHH, don't steal my mission items--

MC: Only 5 points? Why?

My tiny avatar was jumping around the screen like a newbie, not at all as gorgeous and elegant as when its being controlled my Kiro.

When I finally finish a wave of tasks, the points progress bar moves forward only a little.

The unsatisfactory progress of the mission makes me purse my lips tightly, and the noisy sound effects of the game leave me more and more frustrated.

I simply mute the game and take off my headphones.

Silence returns to my ears, only the sounds of Kiro and I breathing are intertwined in the square inch of space.

After operating the avatar to complete another task, I can't help but look down at him.

Perhaps it's because the new bandage on his arm made him uncomfortable, but Kiro's sleeping face isn't as peaceful as it usually is, and his brows are slightly wrinkled.

I reach out my hand, attempting to smooth out the wrinkles.

Kiro: MC...

With my fingertips still hovering in the air, a soft voice spills from Kiro's mouth.

Kiro: Stay with me...

In an instant, his whispers seem to melt my heart and turn it into mush.

I put away my fingers, lean over, and quietly replace the touch with a kiss.

MC: I'll quickly complete this task, and come to accompany you in your dreams.

——*:･ﾟ✧——*:･ﾟ✧——

[PART 2]

Kiro: [inhaling sharply] ...!

MC: Hm?

The sound of inhalation pulls me out of my sleep. I rub my eyes and look at the person next to me.

Kiro is already sitting up, but for some reason, he doesn't seem to be moving. He just stares ahead in a daze.

After a moment, he turns his head hesitantly.

Kiro: What time is it now?

MC: Huh? Let me see... it's half past eight.

Kiro: Eight thirty... you - you didn't wake me up yesterday?

I don't react until I sense him stammering a bit as he speaks.

MC: Oh, about that!

I sit up and point to the laptop on the bedside table.

MC: Don't worry, I helped you finish the mission.

MC: Don't say I didn't wake you up. I called you twice but you didn't respond--

Before I finish speaking, the corners of Kiro's mouth that were previously frozen in place, suddenly rise. He cheers and rushes towards me.

Kiro: Miss Chips, you're amazing! Mua! Ouch, my arm...

When an indulgent kiss falls on my face, Kiro's nose wrinkles again from the pain.

I burst out laughing, press my forehead against his and give him a soothing kiss on the tip of his nose.

Kiro: Was it tiring?

MC: Fortunately, it was just a bit difficult~

Kiro: But if you helped me with the task, wouldn't you have already discovered the surprise I wanted to give you?

MC: Surprise? What surprise?

Kiro's expression suddenly freezes and he lets out a sigh.

Kiro: Didn't you finish it? You should have discovered that the prize redeemed using the points from first place is the limited-edition skin you really wanted but couldn't get.

MC: .....

MC: Ki-Kiro...

Kiro: Wha-what is it...?

MC: If I tell you that I shut down the device directly after finishing the event, is there any way to retrieve it?

Kiro: Well...

Kiro's expression remains frozen for a long time before he stiffly straightens up.

Kiro: Let's go online and take a look.

We re-log into the game with one last glimmer of hope, but reality proves to be an icy bucket of water poured onto us.

MC: The redemption deadline was 5 a.m.

Looking at the closed grey game store, and a great feeling of depression invaded my heart.

MC: Sorry...

Kiro: Hm?

MC: I wanted to help you, but I didn't finish it to the end... I wasted so many points...

MC: If I had woken you up yesterday, this situation wouldn't have happened. It's all my fault for acting too smart.

Kiro: MC, don't say that.

Kiro interrupts my triad and stretches out his hand to cup my cheek.

Kiro: It's just a prop in the game, and it was meant for you.

Kiro: If you're sad because you missed it, wouldn't that be against my wishes?

MC: Do you really not blame me?

Kiro: Why should I blame you?

The hand holding me exerts a little more force, as if to hold up my falling emotions.

Kiro: I know you wanted me to get a good rest. It's not in line with the "Kiro-Chips Code" to get up and play games after sleeping for three hours.

Kiro: If you're in a bad mood, let's not touch the computer for a day and go out and have some fun.

Kiro caresses my cheek again. Just as he is about to get up from the bed, I abruptly reach out and pull his sleeve again.

MC: What about you?

MC: Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?

Kiro: Me?

The corners of Kiro's mouth condense slightly and then rise up into a familiar arc.

Kiro: The Miss Chips I know wouldn't have such a conflicted look on her face

Kiro: Having said that, I don't care anymore.

Kiro: If you're upset, let's visit the most delightful amusement park in the world!

MC: ...Mm, okay.

Do you really not care?

I know how long Kiro had been saving those points for. If all of my hard work had been wasted like this, I would've probably been depressed for at least ten days and a half.

But now Kiro is acting like this. I feel like if I continue to aske questions, he'll just show-off his "indifference" even more.

Was there any way to resolve this?

I take in a long breath and open the quilt.

If he really intends to hide his frustration in his heart, then I'll try my best to make him happy all day long!

-

We stand at the entrance of the amusement park and the bustling crowd forms a noisy sea, almost drowning out the the sounds of the park rides.

MC: Which one do you want to go on?

Kiro pulls down his mask and answers without thinking.

Kiro: The Magic Flight of course!

I take a look at the queueing time for the Magic Flight shown on the map and take in a breath.

MC: Two hours...

I reluctantly search for fast passes, but because our trip was an impromptu one, and since we arrived late, all VIP tickets were sold out.

Kiro: ...Forget it, let's do what you want to first.

MC: No, no, no, you're the one who has been wronged today and I should make it up to you! As long as you don't mind waiting in line!

Kiro startles for a moment, then smiles and holds my hand.

Kiro: With you by my side, I won't mind anything.

-

We stand at the end of the line and begin to move forward slowly.

It isn't until I share almost all the interesting things that I'd found recently on the internet, that our turn for the Magic Flight finally arrives.

MC: Phew... it's time to be happy!

Kiro: Mm, it's time to be happy!

Please press the lever and stay seated, the Magic Flight is about to begin--

Woosh--

After two hours of queueing, we get a minute of excitement. We stumble out of our seats and Kiro takes a picture of the map.

Kiro: Now it's your turn. What do you want to ride?

MC: Me? I originally wanted to ride the Wonderful Journey, but it seems like we'd have to spend more than an hour in queue. Forget it...

Kiro: No forgetting it. You've satisfied me, so how can I not satisfy you? Let's go!

MC: Can...

I open my mouth but swallow the rest of my words.

After all, I owe Kiro today. I just have to make him 100% happy.

If going on an amazing ride with me is fun for him... then we'll do just that!

-

The queue for the Wonderful Journey is just as endless.

The crowded queue causes many couples to complain. Sometimes there are children crying, making one's ears throb and hurt.

Kiro pinches my palm and sighs softly.

Kiro: Are you tired?

MC: Nope!

I almost burst out my rebuttal and raise a big smile at him.

MC: Why do you think so? Chatting with you in line like this actually made time fly by really quickly.

Kiro: .....

Kiro purses his lips and a subtle emotion flashes in his eyes, hidden behind his glasses.

Kiro: All right.

After another wonderful ride, my legs begin to faintly protest. I grit my teeth.

MC: I remember you said before that you wanted to ride the Star Wheel? Let's go...

Kiro: Let's take a break.

He doesn't wait for me to finish speaking. Without any explanation he pulls me to the bench and sits down.

People come and go in front of us, everyone's faces filled with pure joy.

Kiro and I just sit quietly.

The atmosphere is a bit stiff and awkward.

What's the problem? I bite my lower lip.

Do you want to make the other person happy so much that it makes him unhappy instead?

Guilt wraps around my throat so tightly that I find myself unable to speak. In the end, all I can do is rub my face hard.

--You should at least be happy while you're here! If you have any questions, talk to him about it after you've thought it through.

I raise a big smile again and turn to Kiro.

MC: Seems like the float parade is about to start. I remember your favorite character's there. I've already rested. Let's go and get good seats!

——*:･ﾟ✧——*:･ﾟ✧——

[Memory Silhouette]

Clap your hands one by one and join me in rejoicing happiness; clap your hands and forget all your worries...

For the first time ever, Kiro finds the music in the amusement park a bit too loud. It's also his first time finding that the crowd watching the parade is very congested.

He calmly steps back, allowing the girl in front of him to wave her arms and sway to the music.

MC: Say hello to new friends and start a new day with you...

She was extra lively today, as if she was trying her best to monopolize all the happy cells in her body.

But Kiro can never seem to forget the girl's dazed profile as she was sitting on the bench to rest.

She wasn't as happy as she let on, he knows.

MC: Kiro, Pink Rabbit and Lazy Bear are coming soon!

The music gets louder again. His sleeves are being pulled on and the girl's bright smile hits Kiro's eyes.

As if it's a conditioned reflex, Kiro immediately smiles

Kiro: Mm! I've got to give them a high-five soon!

This is what I usually do at an amusement park - whether it's laughing and joking with her while waiting in line, or interacting with the mascots during the parade...

But for some reason, Kiro finds that there's a strange awkwardness in all of his actions.

I shouldn't be like this, he thinks.

In the morning, when he found out that his rewards weren't redeemed in time, he was indeed a little disappointed, but he quickly convinced himself to let it go.

After all, he didn't want to see the girl showing remorse. That would only make him feel worse.

However, he didn't expect MC to care about him far more than he imagined.

But he'd already told her not to bother about it, so why does she still show such a cautious expression?

Was there something I didn't get right enough to make her so hesitant?

Kiro's thoughts wander to a far away place, making his swaying movements a little absent-minded.

It isn't until Lazy Bear walks up to him and stretches out its thick plush paw towards him that Kiro reacts, as if waking up from a dream.

Dear friends, please smile; clap your hands and join me in rejoicing happiness--

The music gradually fades away, the crowd disperses, and pleasant sounds come again in front of the surrounding amusement park rides.

MC: Where do we go next...

The girls stands there with a confused expression again.

All Kiro feels is a string in his heart being tugged at. It isn't painful, but it's sharp and stinging.

I want to make her happy. I want to satisfy all of her emotions.

If she's not going to tell me, then I'll just directly respond to her with action.

Kiro: MC.

Kiro takes the girl's hand and speaks every word carefully.

Kiro: Go where you want to go. As long as you like it, I like it, really.

——*:･ﾟ✧——*:･ﾟ✧——

[PART 3]

So tired.

After coming back from the amusement park, Kiro and I say almost nothing to each other. As soon as we reach home, we collapse onto the bed and quickly fell asleep.

When I wake up again, his spot is empty.

I carelessly turn over, my body already waiting for Kiro to come back so I could curl up into my most familiar position.

However, even after napping for a while, he still hasn't come back.

At this point... is it insomnia?

The fine thread in my heart knots up again. I decide to get up and look for him.

-

The living room is dark and quiet, with Apple Box and Cello nestled together. When they hear my footsteps, their little heads attentively turn around.

Apple Box: Awoo...

MC: Shh.

I quickly shush twice and signal them to continue sleeping as I walk around their beds.

Faint light streams in from the door of the study. I quietly approach it--

Jingle--

The first thing that greets my ears is the sound of glass ringing.

The goldfish ornaments in Kiro's study collide with each other as they sway, producing a lovely sound.

Kiro sits beside the hanging ornaments with his hands folded, his eyes lowered, making me unable to distinguish his expression.

Only the downward cast of his slightly pursed lips makes me realize that he must have something on his mind.

Kiro: I don't know what to do anymore.

Hearing his words, I can't help but pause as I am about to push open the door.

In the room, Kiro mutters to himself and reaches out to pick up a small goldfish.

Kiro: I know she's been hiding what's on her mind today, and her happiness today was all to make me "happy".

Kiro: But I don't need her to be like this "for me".

Kiro: I just want her to be "happy" without having to worry about anything.

Kiro: ...Does it sound like a tongue-twister? I think so too.

Kiro: But this is a tormenting matter. I can't help it.

MC: Pfft...

I quickly suppress my laughter, wanting to hear what else Kiro would say to the little fish.

Kiro rests his head in the crook of his arms and the little glass goldfish shakes in his hand. Then, it suddenly swings it's tail and turns towards the door.

The eyes that had been lowered suddenly rise, a sly smile within them.

Kiro: So little fish, can you convey this tongue-twister to the girl standing outside the door?

MC: ...!

MC: So you knew I was outside!

Kiro lets go of the little goldfish and stretches his hand out to me.

Kiro: All I can do is blame my ears for being too sensitive. I suddenly heard Apple Box snorting happily when he saw you.

I open the door, walk over to Kiro and sit down.

MC: Now that the little fish has told me, I also have something to say to the little goldfish to convey to Kiro.

Kiro: What is it?

I too pick up a small goldfish and sway it close to Kiro's eyes.

MC: I want little fish to ask Kiro for me - Do you not like the MC who made Kiro happy today?

Kiro: It's not that I don't like you, it's just... I feel like I've failed in some way and am asking you to accommodate me.

MC: But this is an accommodation I'm willing to make. I'm very sorry about what happened this morning. You have to give me a chance to make amends.

MC: I want to make you happy, and you want to make me happy, which leads to awkwardness between both of us...

MC: Doesn't that violate our original intentions?

Kiro's eyes flash. He sighs and takes my hand.

Kiro: What you're saying makes sense. It feels you're much smarter than me when it comes to this. Just...

MC: Just what?

Kiro lowers his head and puts my finger to the corner of his lips.

Kiro: It's just that it's impossible for me not to care about how you feel. Wouldn't that make me a bad guy?

Seeing Kiro's expression get more and more troubled, I simply wave my hand generously and deliberately tease him.

MC: It doesn't matter. You don't have to be so conflicted, it's not like you haven't been a bad guy before.

Kiro: Huh? When did I become a bad guy?

MC: When you came to see me as Helios a long, long time ago.

For a moment, Kiro's throat rolls violently, and his expression suddenly becomes a little reserved.

Kiro: You... still remember.

It's over. I seem to have said the wrong thing.

Seeing that not only the tail of the person on the other side is drooping, but also that dark clouds have gathered above his head, I cough lightly, trying to mentally make up for my faux pas.

MC: Ahem, actually, looking back now, I just find it interesting that you were "bad" back then!

Kiro: Interesting?

Kiro: What's interesting?

His hand quietly exerts a bit of force and the temperature warms the glass goldfish we hold in our palms.

Even though it's clearly a memory from a very long time ago, for some reason, when I mention it, the entanglement with the person in front of me at that time is still clear, as if it were yesterday.

All that bitterness, the sorrows and joys are superimposed with more experiences, becoming memories that can be spoken of frankly.

MC: For example, you never let me follow you back then, and you often deliberately scared me...

MC: That time in the clinic, I clearly recognized you, but you still insisted on saying that you weren't Kiro, deliberately made excuses to not recover from your injuries and also...

Kiro: Also what?

MC: What else did you say, "Did you think I was going to kiss you?"?

MC: Now that I think about it, you really were a bad guy.

Kiro: .......

Kiro pauses for breath. There is a hint of emotion in his eyes that I can't fathom.

Supporting himself on the floor, he moves closer to me.

Kiro: Why do I feel... like you seem to relish me like that more?

MC: No way, aren't I reviewing your feelings from that time?

MC: I know you must have been conflicted like that; a hundred times more conflicted than you are now, right?

Kiro: You're wrong.

Kiro's answer is very straightforward. I can't keep myself from feeling a little stunned.

MC: It's not right?

Kiro: Of course not. You want to know what I think when I'm being a "bad guy"?

MC: Very much.

I nod honestly-- This is something we'd tacitly agreed not to talk about, but now that the topic was brought up, it was impossible for me not to get curious.

Kiro smiles.

The next instant, all I feel is my hand being emptied and the goldfish slipping from my palm.

Ding-a-ling--

The colored glaze makes a pleasant melody during the sudden and violent impact. I find myself half-kneeling, pressed into Kiro's arms.

Our posture now is just as it was back then - just as powerful and just as dangerous.

What comes into view is the brilliant blond of his hair and his bewitching smile.

Kiro: I wasn't troubled at that time at all.

Kiro: I just wanted to...

He responds to me with practical actions.

Like biting a raspberry, Kiro easily captures my lips.

Different from how gentle Kiro usually is, his kisses get more and more aggressive, leaving me almost struggling for air.

MC: Kiro...

Numbing currents spread throughout my limbs, down to my very bones, almost making me incapable of holding myself upright. In the end, all I can do is let him pick me up.

Kiro: [huskily] There is a price to pay for curiosity, MC.

The light diffused by the glass traces the ends of his hair, like bright gold or brilliant silver.

It dazzles me.

——*:･ﾟ✧——*:･ﾟ✧——

Part 2: Here

[life-caretaker]

Working on personal logistics specifically pertaining to Batfam height stuff, so I have always liked the idea that Jason after coming back from the Lazarus pit would be taller than Bruce cause he would flaunt it (it would be funny).

But something a friend of mine pointed it is depending on the height he died at, and then throwing in the Pit at, he would have stretch marks. Which as a person who has stretch marks I think that would be awesome.

Research into Jason's height Pre pit shows that he died at 5'4"

As seen here when Dick accesses files from the cave, and sees that Jason is dead.

HT 5'4" or 162.10cm

Then he's thrown into the Lazurus pit after coming back from being Comatose. Something I hate about the Pit is we don't have solid rules implacable for what the pit does, does it give Jason that white streak in his hair..? No, he bleaches it in (future state: Dark Detective 2').

My favorite theory from PandaRed is that post-death scars (his autopsy scar) remain after the Lazarus Pit because wounds inflicted after death aren't affected, the Laurus Pit only heals wounds, and scars procured pre-death, so any wounds he would have sustained during the explosion, or when he was hit with the crowbar meaning he gets to come back looking all pretty, and unharmed except for his autopsy scar, and the white forelock.

But what would this mean height wise, it is never mentioned that Jason has Stretch marks. I don't know if it's ever mentioned for any of the other Batfamily members either considering that what you need to prevent stretch marks is lots of water, moisturizer, and nutrient-heavy foods this makes sense with their training regime.

But Jason died at the height of 5'4", and in the comics, Jason is said to be two inches shorter than Bruce who is 6'0" meaning his revival height is 5'9" which with all of the muscle he put on still doesn't negate the fact that he could have formed stretch marks.

The real question is would they stay..? Because if the fact that he was thrown in the pit and it is water adjacent and holds healing properties we would assume that he would be in the right moisturizing environment for them to not form through the league wouldn't feed him well so all of his time spent Comatose where he's gaining muscle would mean he would gain stretch marks post-death. So if we go with PandaRed's theory they would stay.

Another thing that I have never understood is the scene we get in the comics where Jason is pushed into the Lazarus pit, the frames show him going in as a kid, and coming out as a fully grown adult. I believe this is symbolic because he is comatose when he enters the pit, and when he comes out of it he comes out alive and thinking, in this sense he was trapped in a child like state of mind before the pit.

How ever if we take this as he was short before he was shoved in the pit this means he grew in the pit, and again stretch marks could be plausible if it weren't for the fact that he is submerged in water. The out would be curing all his malnutrition from when he was a child meaning his bones would grow at the proper rate of a nourished child.

I personally like to believe Jason Todd would be 6'5" two inches taller than Bruce (6'3" Arkham games referenced), he would keep his autopsy scar, and would have stretch marks because I personally have stretchmarks, and think some more representation in that department would be cool (This is my opinion you don't have to agree).

Thank you for taking the time to read over my rant.

[swamp-spirit]

Not a doctor, but trying to use my experience as a long term Anxiety Disorder Haver to figure out what could have happened to Jason in Gotham War. Listen, I know comic book science is made up, but let me have my 'fun'.

This is also a lot about how trauma and anxiety chemically works and Jason and Trauma in general.

(Discussing my own anxiety disorder a lot here, so don't click if that might be upsetting. Also please minimize the Bruce discourse here. I wanna talk about Jason.)

EDITS because I wrote this in a fugue state and replaced all words with homonyms

So there's two main elements to anxiety. There's the emotional element, the kind you can deal with in therapy, and the physical element, the kind you can deal with via medication.

I related a lot to Jason in Gotham War, because I have very physical anxiety. Even when I can calmly reason through a situation, my nervous system is very physically reactive to the point where I'll be holding a conversation and cracking jokes while seizing. Unmedicated, like Jason, I couldn't do light exercise without triggering a panic attack.

What Jason seems to be experiencing is an issue with his nervous system. To massively oversimplify, because I'm not a doctor, let's say the sympathetic nervous system is the gas, the parasympathetic system is the brakes, and triggers are the foot that decides when to push the pedals down.

When you're in a situation where you need to be amped up, your body hits the gas. You get adrenaline, faster heart rate, fight or flight, but this state isn't sustainable. First, it's very resource intensive. Second, it's a state designed to Do Something, and is very emotionally stressful if there's nothing to Do. This is why people with anxiety disorders can often function in actual danger, because that's what those reactions are designed for.

PTSD is pretty much 'your body hits the gas because your brain has misidentified a safe situation as a dangerous one due to previous experience'. Jason pretty consistently shows signs of PTSD, which makes sense. He has pretty much never been in a safe situation. Even before he was a vigilante and brutally murdered, being homeless, especially as a kid, requires constant vigilance. Most people of any age develop a level of PTSD after living homeless. Witnessing the death of a parent, (depending on the canon) growing up in an abusive home, and being homeless again while brain damaged and vulnerable could all cause PTSD on their own.

We see Jason be triggered a number of times. We also see him trying to self sooth and manage, to 'hit the brakes'. The 'breath deep' on his door in the new Boy Wonder, his stack of books on trauma and chronic pain management in Three Jokers, ect.

So Jason's already got his foot on the mental pedal. He's already scared, and for good reason. His world has always, always been violent. His behavior in Gotham War looks a lot less like ZEA!Bruce turned up the engine and a lot more like he cut the brakes.

As somebody who's experienced the 'lightly jog, and you have a panic attack', it's pretty much a failure of the parasympathetic side of things. You want some adrenaline for a light run. You need to take in more oxygen, but, when your nervous system isn't regulating, it goes out of control. It keeps amping up until you're breathing so fast that you aren't actually processing the oxygen you're taking in. These heightened states are rough on your whole body. When your body is running danger mode, it's not supporting things like sleep, digestion, and wound-healing.

What makes this more horrifying is ZEA!Bruce seemed to feel this would be permanent, even if Jason tried to reverse it, which means it wasn't just an injection the system would flush. To me, the most logical conclusion would be that the injection would have done permanent damage to the parts of his brain that kick in the parasympathetic nervous system.

This also... wouldn't keep him from killing. Jason is usually a calm killer, not a passion killer. Physical excitement is what the body is supposed to do in violent situations. It's much more likely to cause a panic attack in a safe situation where there's no physical outlet. He can take a shot without nervous system excitement. It would keep him from, or at least interfere with things like: -Jogging -Having sex -Watching emotionally intense media -Handling triggers Like, he definitely wouldn't be able to operate as Red Hood because RH does intel work, extended battles, etc, but he could very much kill.

SSRI's probably would not be that helpful, a serotonin tends to help more with stopping anxiety at the 'thought spiral' part than dealing with the nervous system. SNRI's and beta blockers would be a better bet, though Bruce clearly didn't think those would be enough to let him operate at Red Hood.

So... how is he better? Well, the actual answer is 'comic are bullshit', but let's try and roll with it. The given reason is Joker Gas, which is odd because Joker Gas seems to function like... a neurotoxin? A stimulant? My best guess would be that dying or brain damage in general is kicking in some sort of residual Lazarus healing factor and repairing the physical structure that controls the parasympathetic system.

[moonspirit]

I may be slightly late to Assassination Tuesday ™, apologies.

Something I think about a lot is either Armin or Annie (or even Reiner or Pieck) being injured during an assassination attempt post-rumbling and just not being used to having to heal severe injuries without their powers.

For Armin maybe it might not be as extreme of an adjustment, since he only had his titan powers for four years (although that’s still a pretty significant chunk of his life as a nineteen year old).

For the other three though, I imagine it would be definitely be surreal to suffer a life-threatening injury and have to deal with it for weeks, months or even years in various stages of healing.

Hello xD I had to keep this until the next Assassination Tuesday, which is... today.

I think I remember some discussion a while ago about how the shifters would deal with injuries and such after losing their powers. It's very interesting to think about imo, in particular because the perception and methods of dealing with pain is bound to be very skewed for the shifters, especially Annie, Reiner and Pieck who've lived with the powers from an extremely young age.

I'm unable to find those old posts atm (T^T sorry) but what I talked about there was basically how the expectation that wounds and injuries will heal on their own would've become second-nature to these three. Whether a cut, a bruise, a gash, or a ripped-off limp, the kids would've just gone to sleep knowing the pain will not last long, and that when morning comes, they'll be as good as new again.

Pain never lasted long.

But now... what if it does?

I can't imagine it's anything less than a traumatic experience to spend day after day struggling to cope with the pain and the very, very slow recovery process. A leg is broken and it's been days... why has it been days? When will the swelling go down? When will this pain just stop?

In a way I think, for Annie and Pieck specifically, this would be a very unpleasant thing. Annie atleast would've grown to rely on the titan powers to keep annoying things like injuries and pains at bay - she prioritized efficiency and perfection after all. The powers, in that respect, were helpful for her.

I don't know if Reiner would welcome suffering. Yeah sure it's... not an ideal thing to go through, but maybe given his depression... well it's something to think about xD Something something punishing myself with debilitating pain~

Armin then, is better adjusted. He knows what pain feels like, and how it is to recover from it. His titan powers did come at a later stage than the other three, so it could be that it's not as unusual for him to sustain a wound and have to lie in bed for weeks after. Until the age of fifteen, he was nothing but human after all.

[calisources]

KLAUS MIKAELSON SENTENCES QUOTES. quotes are taken from both the vampire diaries and the originals. warning, some of this quotes might include threats, mentions of blood, gore and some other vampire terror. change pronouns as you see fit.

He made me feel powerless and I hated it. 

 Power, loyalty, family. I made him in my image and he has bettered me. I want what he has. I want to be king.

Those who live hate me more than ever.

 You're all out of your minds... if you think some liquor-fueled one-night-stand - no offense, sweetheart - means a thing to me.

I will walk away and I will never come back. I promise.

 You'll never again have to look me in the eye and cover our connection with hostility and revulsion.

People have been after me for 1000 years. And I am always one step ahead. So whatever it is you're thinking of trying, go for it, give it your best shot. You won't succeed.

Don't underestimate the allure of the darkness, (name). Even the purest hearts are drawn to it.

 I don't have to prove anything, love. I am the alpha male.

Come on. One dance. I won't bite.

Don't tempt me, little wolf.

Maybe you should mind your business, wolf girl.

The only thing stronger than your craving for blood is your love for this one girl.

You are supposed to be dead. What are we gonna do about that?

I invited him to the party, love. He's the one dancing on the table.

And what kind of father allows another man to die for his child?

My hatred for you runs so deep it's difficult to pinpoint its origin

I believe that secrets are a poison that need to be spat out.

A better man would protect you with that lie. But I am not that man. And so I leave you with the burden of a truth that no one will believe.

End of the day human life is just a means to an end. Our means to our end.

Perhaps one day, in a year or even in a century. You’ll turn up at my door and let me show you what the world has to offer.

From all the poems written on the subject of unrequited love, there are so few on the pain of being the object of that affection.

We are the savage villains in fairy tales told to children. But not for (name)

He has done damage only a father can do.

There's no power in love! Mercy makes you weak! Family makes you weak!

This family comes with many hardships, but there is one benefit. You will always have a home here.

This family makes me want to murder people.

The line between what brings us pain and what sustains us is far thinner than one imagines.

Is it evil to take what one wants, to satisfy hunger even if doing so will cause another suffering? What some would call evil, I believe to be an appropriate response to a harsh and unfair world.

You can't win a war without a few strategic losses, no matter how regrettable they may be.

We all must stand alone against our demons.

They say that the passage of time will heal all wounds, but the greater the loss the deeper the cut.

Over the course of my life I've encountered no shortage of those who would presume to speak of good and evil. Such terms mean nothing. People do what is in their best interest.

You know, it's funny how often a person's sharp tongue can end up cutting their own throat.

. Death dances silently in everyone’s shadow, and she doesn’t give a damn. So why give a damn about her?

Art taught me that one's vision can be achieved with sheer force of will.

If I tell you who I really am and you refuse to beleive me, then I can hardly be blamed.

If you knew even a fraction of who I am, it would break you in two.

Because what’s important to you is important to me. What makes you happy makes me want to keep you so. What scares you, I want to tear apart. 

I do not wish to watch you from behind glass, (name).

You rant and rave about the monster I have become.

 There is beauty in the courage of the fragile fighter. Those that persevere, despite all they've been through, those who still believe there is good in the world, as dark things we often find we need that light the most.

ou presume to know me? Then know this... I will gladly end you for what you did to (name).

Mere hours after you lecture me about boundaries and here you are at my house in the middle of the night.

Mere hours since she died I've thought of a thousand things I forgot to say.

I can tell you I love you tomorrow. You're not dying today.

Violence is unavoidable then. Well, I tried.

In my experience an offer from a malevolent witch always comes with a catch. What's yours?

It would be better for you if you did fear me.

You know, you all seem to think this is a democracy, and I assure you it is not!

I quite enjoy my obsessions, thank you very much.

Everybody knows you're in love with her. 

You do realize it is not I who is to be the husband you can boss around.

You declared war when you came after my family and for that, I will make you suffer as only I can.

 I'm sorry, is this some sort of motherly critique? Please feel free to choke on it.

The whole time she lied to me. She made me weak.

Well it was a challenge to find a good pairing. What wine goes well with treachery?

A man damaged by his demons and those demons are not dormant, they are hell-bent on killing me and everything I find beautiful. And you, you are beautiful.

[erinnkenobi]

Dark horse |chapter two

chapter one - chapter three

Pairing | Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Warning | friends to lovers!swearing!trust issues! Spencer is a boobs simp, you can't say otherwise.

Summary | set on season two of Criminal minds

author's note | sorry for the bad English, English is not my mother tongue, I apologise for the misspelt words and beyond.

"In vain I have struggled, it will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you." — Jane Austen, pride and prejudice

x

Rebecca Bryant's case closed — it was her own father with mental problems, you guessed right yet not even knowing his name yet.

P911 case closed - you guessed it right again, it was the supposed father's boy, you thought to yourself, how could a "dad" sell his baby? After this case, you went to the gym and punched uncountable times.

The perfect storm - oh honey! You're the one that couldn't stop cross-looking at the blonde girl, she was BAU unsub, they've let her alone, you talked with Spencer and for less than minutes he linked the dots and told the others who were their dominant, you went for the loo but in a blink of an eye, she ran away this was the same time everyone went crazy. You guessed it right, again.

"So how did you do it? Right about our unsub?"-Hotch questioned and you were all smiley.

"She didn't even was bothered by the victim's pictures behind her and was always looking at her husband, a demanding staring if she was afraid of him after he beat her ass up, she would be trembling and she wasn't."

"That's my child.-Morgan hugged you by the side shoulders making you laugh.

"Doctor Reid will be jealous, that you called me child while it's you who calls him kid".

"Nah, I have now a couple of nerds prodigious kids"

...

When you were left alone with Reid in a room, he seemed stressed as usual as he was thinking about something due to his stressing thoughts.

"What's up to your mind, jealous of me becoming also Morgan's kid? Don't be, I'm a girl and I'll never be the wandering Wikipedia"

"What? No no! Ain't about any of it, but about just one thing, you got the answer before me and nobody agreed on that, even though I should have, sorry."-he awkwardly says.

"No need of any of this mate, but I know you have another doubt, go on."

"It was your paranoia again saying to not believe the supposed victim because of the bruise on her face?"-You chuckle agreeing with his statement.

"Woah, you know me well, yes, we can't just believe in someone just because appears to us as a lost little lamb, but she knew damn well what she was doing, so what's the answer to our riddle today?"

"Beware of a wolf in sheep's clothing – Aesop and Matthew 7:15"-you playfully blinked at him.

"Right, and...?"

"Believe in y/n paranoia, she's 99% right, 1% just in case of minimum doubt"

"That's what friends are for."-you give him a sheepishly grin hugging him givi around his chest, getting him in shock, he didn't hugged ye back, you didn't care at all, the hug sustained for les than 1min.-"Betta go".

And you left him in the room with an astonished state.

Psychodrama case closed – and you nailed it again, although they took time to believe in you, people were killed but now case solved and others survived.

The aftermath – You hates this with all of your heart, you saw agent Elle suffering and you couldn't do anything, you even talked with Morgan and Garcia "She's not right, there's something inside her mind..", yet they told you she would be okay.

Your paranoia disagreed, then you talked alone with Spencer about Elle and he confessed he spoke alone with Elle and he agrees with ye, she wasn't in her right mind, however his statement you told him "No, she's not only at her good mental state Spence, she's hurt, she has a recent wound that hasn't been healed yet, she's traumatised and within this case, she'll have a burnout, she's... Please, I know that everybody doubt and she fake it right, but she can't trick me, I find hard to stare through people's eye, but Elle, I saw something, an anger misty filled with thunderous fear".

No sooner said than done, Elle left without saying goodbye, well, she sent to you a letter explained everything and even apologise for not being able to come, hug you and say goodbye, it would be harder for her if she saw the team.

The Boogeyman case closed – After finding the dairy products inside the refrigerator, the magic lamp above your head popped up like magic. It isn't an adult due to the EpPen found on the table, that person also didn't eat its spinach which you thought to yourself:"only a child would ignore its vegetables, I'd do the same", plus with a clue what you guys found inside the refrigerator,someone else is lactose intolerant and must be..A child, a boy It's a checkmate, you ran to warn the others, Spencer, Gideon and Morgan, but when you walked in Gideon left to attend a call with Hotchner and Spencer was talking with Morgan about Elle, their talk back in Ohio, you knew it.

Now you four were talking about your fears, you laughed when Spencer answers came and you also didn't even flinched with JJ story, you did not believed making her roll her eyes. Then it was your time to tell, what are you fears? What are you afraid about? You answered unbothered:- Dying alone, without no one caring about your death, simple and honest.

Morgan hugged you by your side denying it:-"Oh poor kid! Don't ever think about it."

Spencer says:-"I wouldn't let you, we, we wouldn't let you die alone I-I mean, we care, then it will never happen."— JJ grins sneaky towards Morgan:-"Oh yeah, don't ever think about this, if you died, I think someone would have an heart attack."-Morgan understood her leave, Garcia called so the subject was substituted for another. JJ left the room, so you quickly sat next to Spencer and muttered while Morgan was on his call:–"What do you think? Who's our unsub?"-He look at your face, making you hold off averting his gaze.–"Do you have one already?"-he smiles.—"Yeah, I think...It's a kid, not a grown up man".

Spencer seems so chill about it:-I don't doubt you, but let's Morgan finish his call and tell him what you think.

–Do you really think he will.. Believe me? When I always say my guess, the team always tell me to hold on until we've got all the right clues and answers.

– I do, I do believe in you, your guesses lead my way of thinking, you let the knots freely flying on the air and then I...-Morgan interrupts Spencer.

–Call Gideon, we just found our unsub.-Morgan glares is darker.

So you all take your leave, you're the one calling Gideon, Spencer asks who's the unsub.

– The school counselor, right above my nose, were heading to his house.

Then Spencer realised, when Morgan arrest the unSub, he might not be the one, his son, easy to way to win the other children trust.

The following step you guys catched the school counselor, he had the red cap in his hold, yet you stood with your mindset, checkmate baby, it isn't the father, its his son and you guys would waste time with his interrogation.

You were around a corner thinking about your team next move, when you tried to alert 'em they were already wasting their time with the father, you didn't wanted to bother Gideon's call, Morgan was in the interrogation room, when JJ appeared all worried followed by Spencer, okay, a hint of jealousy.

– The boy never went to school.

Ok, now you'll leave, you'll bring your dog, Nala and in this case you begged Hotch to bring it with you, right decision girl.

Before your leave, Spencer holds your wrist.

–Where are you going??-he quickly says with a curious and worried countenance.

–Find them, you can they the others, I heard about the school bus route, I'll just bring something or..-you widen your smile.- Someone, I'll catch you up.

– Can I go with...-Gideon call you two, Spencer grunts letting go of your wrist gently.–Go on, I'll tell him.

– You deserve another hug.-you leave him without thinking twice, you did not saw his face but his cheeks were reddening.

So as you thought you all were at the playground, Nala was with you and after finding a girl's backpack, Nala smelled it you guys waste no time running after your girl, from a distance with wide eyes the ginger boy was ready to whack the girl with a baseball bat!

Thanks god your dog jumped right at the boy's hand that holds the bat.

–Nala!-your dog is unwilling to let go of the boy arm,

if wasn't for Gideon's hold, for godforsaken, the boy wouldn't have his right hand anymore.

The little girl hops on your arms, gripping hands tightening around your shoulders and neck, she was scared to death. You gently pat her backs.

Nala right next to ye leg, sitting as a well behaved princess.

The Boogeyman case is closed. Unfortunately Spencer and all your teammates seems sad, its about Elle, and you heard Morgan giving Spence a advice also heard Gideon's call with Hotchner, Elle did mot admitted anything and you mentally agreed with Elle actions, might be wrong? According to this country laws, yes, according with your humans being guts? No.

After all this mess, you're with your dog at home when you hear a knock-knock.

You did not open, until Reid voice came out.

– It's me, It's Spencer Reid, Doctor Spencer Reid and I work at BAU with you, you told me we're best friends.- he means "best-friends" with a strange tone, hm. You open the door.

– Come in please, you know, if you weren't Spencer, Nala would jump on you and destroy your pretty face, is momma wrong sweetie?-you say the last part with a baby talk tone, making Spencer smile, Nala barked as a reply.-Told ya.-you close the door.– So, why such illustrious presence is doing at my house, to whom do I owe the honour? Did Gideon or Hotchner send you to warn me to not bring Nala into anymore cases?

– Oh no, otherwise, they're okay with Nala and she did a great work, besides the bite, a win is a win,but hm, you know, I'm not here for this.-he wags his hands that were carrying supermarket bags, he bought and brought things, but for what reason?

Straight to the epidural point, he's here because he wanted to see you again, since the last visit he wasn't able to come any longer thanks to BAU's cases, an alert and all of you need to leave your houses and fly away to wherever you need.

Howbeit he wouldn't tell the truth reason of his visit.

– What are those?

– Food?-he says with a confused look, which makes you grin.

– Okay, but for what? It's past dinnertime and I see that you're, how can I tell..-you stare with no shame at his figure.-You don't seem to eat much, mainly at night.

He scoffs at your statement, seriously, are you profiling him right now?

– Aren't you profiling me, are you?-He puts the bags on your isle kitchen table with only two seats, he notices that you ain't a huge fan of inviting people in, he can't really judge your.

– Sorry not sorry.-you follow him standing by his side with curious eyes.– What have you bought?

– Hm, coffee bags, noodles, two sodas, chips and yogurt, I didn't bought any ice cream because the distance from the supermarket until your house would melt it

–Thanks, but you will eat all these snacks with me? Right?

– Sure, if I weren't I wouldn't brought a pair and...- be says naturally, you snoop inside the bag and see a good dog brand of treats.- Sorry if it sounded rude.-you wave your hand denying with a smile.

– Nah, it's okay, nothing against the literal obviousness.-he doesn't know where else to look, besides your face, people in his university class would ignore him as soon as he open his mouth, he's not used to it, kindliness.-Go on mate, we've been in a hurry all these days with sleep deprivation and lack of basic nourishment, I can't even believe all of us don't eat what is sustainable, so when I'm back home I make sure to cook my dinner and packed lunch for the next day if we don't get a call for the next case outside town, obviously.-woah, while you were speaking out your mind he's amazed, so you know how to cook and care for everybody health, that's the reason why you leave on everybody's table a coffee or tea plus a treat, before the Boogeyman case you left on his table a brownie.

His forearm was bolstering on the table in front of you while his eyes were upon focusing on you, yo unlike you, you couldn't stand eye contact from more than seconds, but the entire talking his eyes landed on you.

– So... That's why you put on our tables coffee and treats? Even on Gideon's and Hotchner's.-you feel your cheeks warm-up, you thought coming 30min early before everyone arrivals, so they didn't knew that was you doing it.

– How do you know it?

– We're profilers, everybody knows but they made me promise I wouldn't tell so you could still surprising us.

– Wow, when you say like this, make me feel ashamed of meself.-you laugh uncomfortably, but not in a bad way.

But he doesn't know it.

– No no, we like it, I mean.. -he panics shaking negatively his hands.-I like, don't stop with it, but I'd like you to show up, I know when you come earlier than us, even over me, you don't sleep well.-you finally breath soon opening a smile.

– Okay, I'll make sure to take your advice, then let's stop talking and let's eat.

He awkwardly agrees while rubbing his scruff.

[Break time]

00h21a.m

You were laughing all giggly while he was explaining you with all of his patient about scientific facts even when you were making dumb designed question just to make him talk more and more about stuff that makes him comfortable around you and happy.

– Okay okay, now you understood how the suppose fire we see coming from the sun is not really fire.

– Yeah, because in space there's no oxygen and within it, fire cannot be produced, sun is made up of hydrogen arpund 70% and 28% of helium. Carbon, nitrogen and oxygen make up 1.5% and the other 0.5% iiisss..-much information, too much and with a pout on your face he continues.

–Is made up of small amounts of many other elements like neon, iron, silicon, magnesium and sulfur.-he proudly smiles.

– You know I might forget it soon, don't you?-he eat his yogurt while shaking positively his head.

–And I'll remind you of it.

One o'clock a.m

You didn't let Spencer get out of your house at this hour, it's not even a possibility.

– You stay here tonight till we left to go to work and don't make up any excuses.

– I wasn't going to though.-he leaves his guard down while having a wide smile, which makes you giggle awkwardly.

– Okey dokey, I wasn't waiting for it... I'll bring you a pillow, a soft blanket and when you wake up, you don't need to leave as soon as you wake up, there's an extra toothbrush and after this you can go.

– Is this an order?-He stands up with his hands on his hips.

– Yes and no! No because I can't control you and yes because I'm just saying because isn't safe to walk past home at this hour, as far as I can reckon, you're a FBI agent, then yup, you can't leave, not now.

– though I wasn't going anyway but you gave me more reasons to stay.-he shows off a smirk

This silly danny boy.

[On the next morning]

08h11 a.m

Nala sniffs Reid's face waking him up, in a huff he complains while getting up, when he headed to the loo he sees you getting out with loosen hair but all already brushed, yet his eyes automatically landed on your chest, you weren't wearing a bra, what is wrong with him, why does his stomach churns when you're around? Not in a bad way, but in a good...

–Spencer? Spencer Reid??? Reeid? Earth calling Spencer Reid!?-you snap him out of his mind.

– What, What happened?

– Nothing, you just stared at me, do I have something on my face?-you suggest and he quickly denies.

– No no, I just, I'm just sleppy, sorry, can I use the bathroom?

– Sure, I'll make us breakfast before you go to your house and change clothes.

He agrees only moving his head getting inside, Jesus Christ, "did she noticed, that I wasn't staring at her pretty face yet her other beautiful pair of eyes?" Spencer needed to wash his face so he could fully wakes up.

You're not dumb, you noticed, however you wouldn't say a thing, you changed clothes and tied your hair.

Acouple of minutes after the coffee and the rest of the breakfast fast is set on the table, Spencer come out wearing his clothes, opening a shy smile.

– I could smell everything from the loo and you didn't burnt anything.

– So you thought I would burn everything?

– Not exactly, I mean...

– To tell you the truth, my first period living alone I did burnt things without mom or grandma tutoring me, but now I'm a good chief.

– Sure you do, the smell is hella good.-you ended laughing.

– Hella good? I think me and Morgan are an awful influence on you,

– Don't think I'm all saint, I reas a lot of books.-you give him a cocky smirk.

– Oh fine, I can't forget that ma boy isn't naive, he kissed an actress months ago and I still waiting my Prince on a dark horse will come.

Idiot, why did you said that? What you meant with it? When he told you this and what he said Morgan told him right after, you kind not liked it, yet you hide this feeling pretty well. Spencer seemed surprised by your statement, he notices your body language change.

– Hmm, yeah, you know, I thought my "first" kiss would be special, but it wasn't, but when I kiss someone else in the future again, I hope that time will be with a special, smart, kind and funny person.

Well, you're all this, but too naive to understand he LITERALLY dropped a straight hint towards you, heaven help the fool who falls in love but can't show it properly.

–But why the Prince on a dark horse and not a white one, as usual?

– Because of it, I want something unusual, different yet magical, the life we are living is not simple, it's tough and dangerous, so I'd like to someone, somehow, become my only special place, when I feel fear, happy, sad and even angry so I'd run to his arm's and when he holds me I can..-he complete your sentence.

– Feel safe.-he says with a tender-hearted tone, as his heart and mind spoke by itselves and you shyly open a wide grin.

– Yeah, now you understood why, what do you think about it?

– I just can think that your mind is unbelievable as your skill while we're working.- what he really wanted to say is: "I'd like someone like that too, so when I have nightmares, this person would be my refuge, you amazes me."

[Break time]

North mammon case closed - since Elle left BAU, Hotchner started putting you to work with him and Morgan, you didn't complained, but you wanted to be set with Spencer as you used to be with, however when Aaron Hotchner say it's an order.

Nevertheless Spencer was not pleased, sometimes he'd ask to Gideon:-"Will agent y/n come with us?" then when a no is following by, he's not happy and it didn't go unoticed by neither Morgan, JJ and Garcia. Morgan would slip sometimes to Garcia "The boy does a funny face when Hotch says y/n will work in camp with me, babygirl, I'm starting to think he might be fond of her, what do you think?" And she would say:-" I dunno, you know, he sees like a person that don't enjoy abruptly changes, they're the same age and intelligent as well, he found someone like him". Morgan:–"That what I'm saying, doll, she's the other half of his orange, they match!". Garcia would laugh:–"Do you wanna bet?"–"Woman, my money's is on them."

Empty planet – Yeah, Spencer is different(than his usually difference)the atmosphere when you're near each other when coming forth and back cases is juat like chalk and cheese. He either calm or super spirited while solving profiles, then when you're paired withour each other company he is all centred and reticent, not mentioning when he's worried when you have to run alongside Morgan chasing mad killers, offenders and suspects.

The last word – when the killer of women came inside the BAU department aiming at a police colleague everybody draw out their guns, however you were pulled behind Spencer by himself, not even managing to draw your gun, he pulled you behind him as if it was possible to protect both of you, since you were next to a pillar, you were taken by surprise and your face stupefied was, you were ready to say something about this action but his hand in front of your body almost touching your arm to stay behind him shush ye.

Glad that Morgan were able to stop the unsub and save the police officer.

Spencer is relieved that nobody got hurt, he now turns his feet to you.

–Are you okay?-and you just confirm with a head wave.

– Thanks for being my "wall" protector, but I'd be the one protecting your arse, since I'm with a gun and you don't have one.-you laugh at his petty defensive face.

– Someone has been told to me to just believe sometimes in your guts even if they sound unbelievable.-you scoff giving him a tap on his arm.

– I was there when it was spoken.-he got the reference (obs: The lion, the witch and the wardrobe).

– What do you think, after we put these men behind bars, do you mind going with me to grab a coffee and brownies?

– Without hesitation, payment is on you.

Would it be funny if you were the one that fell first but he fell harder?

The first time you saw and listened to what Dr.Spencer Reid had to say, you already fell for him, but what about him? Should he feel the same?

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