#So scared my health is getting worse in really dangerous ways. Could have died the other morning

[tpup]

having such an absolute shit time which is horrible because I had put so much effort into making this week bareable only to be fuckin stranded in the worst place I could be rn because my health was so bad I couldn't leave i feel so fucking bad and helpless and fated to having to suffer over and over and over

[justme315]

Tiny best friend 3/5

First part:

Previous part:

Next part:

!Warning!

paranoia, mental health issues, gore, murder (noone really dies), being scared, angst

----------

Their meeting was not long. Jake begged Lucas to let him go and promised to come back the next day and explain everything, because at the moment he was under the influence of too much emotion. Lucas agreed. He really wanted to come back, but when the next day came he realized that it was dangerous and that he couldn't do it. At least not yet. Many days passed in this way, and eventually weeks. Jake blamed himself for bringing up the subject of borrowers at all, and now he had lost a great friend. Lucas didn't hurt him when he shrunk and released him, but his earlier words and how gigantic he was compared to Jake made him unable to go back there. He tried to force himself to, but he was too afraid. He never wanted to go back there, he was afraid that everything could go very badly. In the end, he decided to give up his friendship, even though he suffered a lot from it and fell into an almost depressive state when he realized that he would never get back what he had before.

Lucas was no better. The boy blamed himself for what he said, but still he couldn't suddenly change his whole way of thinking, all his life he saw the tinies as toys, that's what he was taught by society, and suddenly he saw his friend in this form. It wasn't easy for him. He had many questions but when he saw how Jake was he couldn't bring himself to ask him, he let him go because he believed that he would come back and explain everything. He believed everything would be fine. But Jake did not come back. Lucas was slowly losing his mind day by day, worrying and being mad at his friend at the same time, falling into paranoia. Ultimately, he didn't know what to do with himself, he was waking up at nights having nightmares about Jake and trying to find him around. He didn't want to give up.

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

Lucas didn't want to go to school. Recently, he could not eat, drink, sleep or functionate. There was nothing unusual about it, after all he had lost someone he considered family. Jake had a special place in his heart that was empty now, as if pierced through and bleeding. He didn't want to get up, but he knew he was worrying his friends and his mom, who looked like she was considering more and more of locking him up in a mental institution. He understood why they were worried, but he couldn't live like this. It was even worse when his mind played with him and reminded him how he and his friends had killed that tiny and replaced it with Jake. He felt terrible and decided that he had had enough and went to the forest. He hoped his mom would at least think he went to school and lived a normal life, but his plan was obviously different. He just wanted to lie in the woods where no one would see, criticize, or worry about him. When he reached the forest, he lay down and went to sleep. Maybe he'd at last have peace of mind in his sleep.

He slept long. His head was slowly starting to hurt. He heard screams around him, which suddenly stopped. He opened his eyes and saw what he was holding in his hand. Blood ran down his fingers. There was so much blood and broken flesh. This small, delicate creature was in his hand, completely crushed, destroyed, broken, with an unreadable expression on its face, dead. He crushed a tiny. He killed someone again. God, he did it again. He started hyperventilating. He lost his sense of everything. He tossed the ruined corpse away from him and backed away in panic.

"I didn't mean to, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." he started crying and panicking. He didn't mean to hurt anyone. Oh my god, what if it was Jake?! He now understood why Jake didn't come back, he was a monster even in his sleep! He was a murderer who hurt everything around him. He sat down on the ground under a tree, panicking, but as soon as he sat he heard an unpleasant crunch. Hell no. He got up and saw that he had just squashed some more tinies. He sat on them. They were innocent, they did nothing wrong, and they got the worst death under a huge weight, crushed to the thickness of a sheet of paper, destroyed, bled out, with no chance of rescue. He panicked and screamed, trying to get out of there. He did not mean to do this. He really didn't mean to do this. There was so much blood and dead bodies. The bodies were ripped, organs out. He though he would be sick. There were screams coming out from everywhere. There was tiny flesh everywhere. It was all his fault. He did that. He murdered them. He had to run. To leave. A scream pulled him from his run. Lucas got up. It was a dream. Luckily it was just a fucking dream. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, he was covered in cold sweat and his hands were shaking. Even though it was just a dream, the feeling of murder stayed with him. He really didn't mean to do it.

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

Jake couldn't believe what he saw. When he saw Lucas lying in his forest, not far from his hideout, he wanted to run away and preferably move. But then he realized that the boy was sleeping. He was clearly having a nightmare. Tears ran down his cheeks, he struggled in his sleep. Even though Jake was still terribly scared, he couldn't look at Lucas at that state. He had to do something before the boy hurt himself in his sleep. He shouted on top of his lungs to wake the boy up. As soon as he shouted the boy got up and looked around everywhere and on his shaky hands. He looked like he'd seen a ghost a moment ago, but it was a bit better now. Jake sighed with relief. As soon as he opened his eyes again and looked at Lucas, he saw that his gaze was fixed on him. A cold shiver ran through his body. Lucas was shaking, crying, and now he was looking directly at him. Jake froze in fear. Why did they have to meet like this again? Why did they have to see each other after so many weeks under these circumstances?

"Jake..?" Lucas whispered uncertainly through his tears, not blinking as if he was afraid that when he looked there again, it would turn out to be only hallucinations. Jake took one hesitant step back. That's when Lucas stroke in a panic.

"Don't leave, I'm begging you!"

[nerd-chocolate]

Hey! So I decided to make some angst headcanons about @artzychic27 Ms.Mendelevie’s class and the Austins. Sorry if these headcanons aren’t perfect and some of things topics I tackle aren’t best and please educate me in comments or in the ask box, I very much appreciate it. Also it like 1:00 am when I’m done making this so that also probably explains my sloppiness of this post. But, I hope you enjoy these headcanons! Trigger warnings for Mental Health, child neglect, eating disorder, health issues, abusive relationships (romantic or familial), bullying, harassment, and death.

Austin T has an eating disorder (specifically Anorexia Nervosa) ever since he began middle school, because the other Austins were starting to make fun of him for his weight but ever since he broke off his toxic friendship with them, he is getting better. The class, especially Jean, are helping him recover and have been seeing a therapist to help him with that journey.

Ismael has been seen as a burden in his mother’s eyes even at a very young age and didn’t want anything to do with him. So Ismael built this emotional wall between and others so he wouldn't get hurt again.

When Audrey left for Paris and didn’t come back for a while, Zoé felt kinda conflicted. Part of her felt joy that she was gone but another felt sad and mad that her mom just forgot about her.

Cosette feels like they need to fix the problem so they feel useful to their loved ones and if the situation gets bad or worse, it either feels like it needs to fix the problem whatever means necessary or it’s their fault they need to fix it.

Denise works at a very young age in their parents’ restaurant, so their relationship with their twin sister feels like they are more like roommates than siblings but still try to make some time for them.

Reshma didn’t have friends until she was in Mrs.Bustier’s class because her parents were a bit overprotective of her and got her private lessons with tutors.

Alec was never really in Mireille’s life unless he wanted something from her like to brag about her to his coworkers. So Mireille is aloof to him most of the time.

Aurore is the golden child of her family and definitely is scared to fail so her parents won’t get mad and disappointed at her.

Jean had his heart broken before and got humiliated for it so whenever he gets a crush on someone, he just wants those feelings to go away so he wouldn’t get hurt.

Ever since her parents died, Lacey has felt like she needs to do whatever in her power to keep her loved ones safe even if her life is in danger.

Simon has been bullied for his parents leaving him, So he didn’t have that many friends growing up because of that.So Simon felt very angry at them and want to ask them, why did they never care about him.

Marc never really talked about his thoughts and feelings ever since he and Lucien broke up and had nightmares about him. So felt really scared about getting into another relationship that could potentially hurt him again like Lucien did to him.

Denise overworks themselves to the point where they don’t even get a good night's sleep because of it. Denise even gets muscle pain because of it.

Cosette has self worth issues because of their siblings' treatment of them (it is not very good at all by the way). Their siblings even said how they are related if they don't look or act the same way.

Jean didn’t really know his mom since she died after giving birth to him. So he felt like it was his fault but his dad never once blamed him for it.

Austin Q’s parents forgets he exists since they are always focused on his brother who is more successful than he is. So they just give him money whenever he asks to spend time with them.

Austin A’s mom has never been around since she was a beauty company so he tries to look as best he can to make her notice. So that is why he is so focused on looks and appearances.

Austin B’s dad has very messed up secrets that he accidentally found out about so his dad makes him keep these secrets until he allows it.

Mireille has abandonment issues ever since Alec abandoned her and they got very worse when Sabrina dropped her as a friend. So she needs to do anything to keep that friend.

Austin T felt like if he left his friendship with the other Austins, he would be alone with no friends or support at all. So he keeps being friends with them even if he knows what he is doing is very wrong and feels like a coward because of it.

Cosette has been harassed before just for the way they look because the other kids from their last schools always thought they were some freak and even some of the adults in their life even though their appearance were a bit strange.

Mommy issues: Ismael, Zoé, and Austin A

Daddy issues: Mireille and Austin B

Family issues in general: Aurore, Cosette, Austin Q, and Denise

[aetheternity]

I have a request

Levi's wife y/n and 4 or 5 year old son get kidnapped by kenny and the military police. They get taken to the crystal cave with eren and historia. So when levi comes to save them he is livid and is quickly taking down every mp in his way. Luckily both y/n and her son make it out safely with levi and his squad.

Levi, y/n, and their son have a soft moment and they all hug and give kisses 😚😚😚 and day squad teases them

(I added my own little spin to this where Y/N is playfully argumentative and sometimes wild with Levi. Hope that's ok! I also thought it would be cute if Levi and Y/N’s son was named after Levi’s late friend Farlen.)

"We have more than just Historia and Eren now." Levi grunted, facing Hange. "My son and Y/N were taken as well."

"We can't wait then. We'll leave as soon as possible."

Levi squeezed the paper Hange had given him earlier in his grasp as his squad whooped and hollered behind him. Kenny probably wouldn't kill them, they were insurance after all. Which was that much worse for Levi.

He already knew if he didn't manage to calm himself before they got to Kenny he would lash out recklessly. The one thing he'd told his wife and son to never allow themselves to do.

~~~~

"Oi." Levi stepped closer, concern etched onto his face. His eyebrows scrunched where he looked into his wife's eyes. "If you continue moping around our child's health will be at risk and yours. The doctor already told you that."

She turned, eyes narrowed and lips tight where they were pulled into a frown. "What else am I supposed to feel? The father of my baby is running around dodging death. Am I supposed to be happy Levi?"

Levi rolled his eyes, his hand already coming up to the bridge of his nose in expectation for the upcoming brawl of sorts. "I'll be alive for the birth of our son."

"Will you though?" She stepped closer, challenge rising in her tone and eyes.

"I'm not leaving you or the soon to be kid we've made. And you already know that." He fought back. "I'd sooner go back to the underground."

Her hands ran up to his collar tugging him closer. And he let her, let every bit of fury trapped beneath those stone cold eyes run over his spine like a flash of lightning all with the same neutral expression.

"I'm so serious you wouldn't even believe. If you don't come back one of these days and I have to raise this baby all on my own. I'm gonna bring you back to life just so I can kill you again. Do you hear me Levi Ackerman?"

Levi let out a little huff and a small smirk ran over his lips. She let him go and he straightened out his collar. "You get scarier everyday." He remarked "Way scarier than any damn titan."

He grabbed her wrist, pulling her down the mostly empty corridor. "You saw the doctor again today right? Tell me what happened."

"We've got a healthy Ackerman on our hands. He's grown bigger than he's supposed to be at this stage actually." She smiled softly as she placed a hand on her belly. "Probably cause he has your blood."

"Tch, moron. He's already his mother. Constantly kicking every time I touch your belly. He's gonna be a brat just like you."

"I hope he gets my height and not yours."

"For his sake your height instead of your mouth would be good."

"My mouth has gotten you through many long nights so I wouldn't complain if I were you."

Levi playfully rolled his eyes as Y/N's soft laugh filled the corridor. Her eyes shining brighter than they had her whole pregnancy. It was weird Levi had always heard about new parents being scared but he barely was.

When he'd found out he'd been more surprised than anything but he'd barely even had the time to over analyze the situation until that night. This unbelievably wild girl was the mother of his child. What more could he want.

Fear did dawn on him. Knowing he'd have something new in this world that needed his protection. Something so precious and small to protect. But another part of him knew that kid would be safer if he got his mother's fighting spirit.

"Hey, you better not be thinking about other girls." Y/N huffed as she poked at Levi's forehead.

Levi grabbed her finger. "Dumbass, no one else would be able to handle you if I left."

"Just sounds like you're making excuses so that you don't have to tell me, you adore me and could never find anyone else who brings you this much joy."

"No." That barely even scratched the surface..

~~~~

"Do you have a location on them?" Hange asked

"There're a whole bunch of military police and Kenny's squad is surrounding the entire area. But no sign of Kenny himself or any of the people who were taken." Sasha replied

Levi huffed, brain not wanting to retreat to the worst possible scenario. Besides the conversation currently developing in front of him there was a sort of quiet drifting in the atmosphere.

"We have a plan right?" Armin suddenly asked

And Hange nodded, "You're gonna need these." Her hands clasped around the cool metal of the signal flares.

"Signal flares??" Jean stared in disbelief

"Don't worry, we're getting out of here alive hostages and all." Hange stated before turning to Levi. "They're ok."

Levi blinked, slowly but surely uncurling his fists. He looked around to the others their faces a mix of concern and in certain cases glee. But they all had the same sentiment.

"Put the plan into motion." Levi stood

~~~~

It went surprisingly quickly. From the barrels they'd deployed to the signal flares being shot off. Sasha and Mikasa taking out the military police like no one's business but Levi could already feel his Ackerman rage growing.

Where the hell was Kenny? He thought.

His question was soon answered when a bullet flew past his cheek immediately drawing blood. The next bullet striking an ice pillar with a hard crack as he ducked for cover behind it.

Levi paused repositioning himself to jump and land behind one another of the thick pillars searching for the source of the bullets. "Where the hell are they?" He grunted voice raspy, thick and loud where he called to the only person that would be behind this.

Kenny's laugh was boisterous, heavy where it bounced between each pillar. The amount of sweat that had collected on Levi's palms had his weapon slippery in his grip and the vein in his forehead was close to popping.

"I think you have other things here you should be concerning yourself with."

In the blink of an eye Levi's head shot backwards, Jean's scream mixed with the heart shattering sound of Hange hitting one of the pillars caught his attention. A bullet releasing her blood as she slipped and rolled over against the ground like a discarded toy.

"Tch!"

"Levi! Oi you should be worried about me. After all. Your little family dies by my call!"

If Levi was boiling before his blood was erupting now. With incredible skill and speed he bounced his way around the pillars dodging each bullet as Kenny shot them out. His agility raised as he flipped over Kenny's form and behind him. In an instant Levi was tossing a bag full of flammable liquid in time to meet his next shot.

When the bag tore open Levi flew forward, through burning flames created by Kenny's gun tossing his blade. The motion caught Kenny off guard but he managed to dodge it, his hat flying off into a nearby pillar along with Levi's blade to hold it up there.

Levi's heart was hammering taking the advantage he'd managed to get he flew at Kenny with incredible speed slicing through his torso almost like it was butter. In the heat of adrenaline Levi watched as Kenny's body fell to the ground of the cool cavern.

He landed with a hard breath before retracting the odm gears hooks. He couldn't wait any longer. He couldn't stop himself from running forward no matter how stupid and dangerous it was.

He heard bits and pieces of speech behind him. "Follow Captain!" And "Wait, hold on!" But none of it stopped his feet.

He skidded in his pace as he heard soft calls of, "Dad! Dad!"

And he was immediately headed for it. A bit of relief flooding his chest as he heard the faint sounds of odm gear clanging behind him. His squad clearly keeping good pace.

When he arrived he instantly locked eyes with his five year old son and wife.

"Dad!" Farlen's voice echoed. He didn't look injured from what Levi could tell and neither did Y/N. Farlen's hair tosseled as if he'd merely been running outside.

"Where are Historia and Eren?!" Mikasa called as she ran up behind Levi.

"Guys!" Historia's voice boomed. She slunk forward barely supporting Eren's weight. His shirt gone and his face covered in blood.

Levi quickly ran to untie Y/N and Farlen immediately embracing Farlen when he jumped into his arms. If he were any other kid Levi would probably be questioning why he hadn't shit his pants and why his face was tearless. But he definitely wasn't any other five year old.

"Geez, you guys took forever." Y/N remarked, stretching her hands above her head. "I was about to wreck all these Military brats butts for you." She said with a smirk at Levi.

Levi huffed, rubbing his son's back. "Next time you can save yourself then." He remarked giving Farlen a soft head rub.

"Ugggh Mom.. Dad not now.." he sighed

"There won't be a next time!" Y/N fought back. "I'll never get caught up like that again."

"Tch, whatever."

"Are you challenging me Mr. Ackerman?"

"You're a brat, Ms. Ackerman."

"How about I show you how much of a brat I can really be?" She chuckled with a dark smile etching over her features. She pulled him closer, hugging his and Farlen's form with a firm hand on Levi's lower back.

"Don't start something you can't finish." Levi whispered back.

"Ewwwwww.." Farlen mock gagged between them.

Y/N just laughed loudly. "You'll understand when you have someone you love to hate, Farlen."

"Yeah.. I'm with Farlen. That's eww." Connie remarked with a shake of his head.

The others soon joined in with their own little laughs and teasing words. "I can't believe how soft Captain can be." And "They're such a cute family I hope I get that some day."

Levi repositioned Farlen on one arm ignoring all the chatter. Though his cheeks bloomed a rosy color that was extremely unmistakable "Historia, where's your father?"

"He escaped before you guys got here. He's headed toward the wall." She replied

"We've gotta hurry then."

(I'm so sick of people on the internet rn I swear🙄)

[iwriteforthetincanman]

Kiss Marks, Not Bruises

A/N: this is such a cute idea and I almost missed it because I posted it saying I would write it straight away but I’ve been very busy since then so I haven’t really had a chance to, but here I am now! Anyway, hope you enjoy it!

Requested by: @skellytrash​

Despite snowflakes beginning to casually litter the grounds of the BPRD, you couldn’t stop the flurry growing inside of you. Worry etched into your features as you paced the garden. A pair of robins flitted past, a brief reminder of what, or rather who, you were waiting for.

“Agent Y/L/N!” Manning shouting out of a window from above you. “They’re back.” the solemn tone laced into his words did little to cease your concern.

“Oh Abe…” you muttered to yourself before charging back into the federal building at full speed. Skidding around each and every corner, you apologised to every agent you bumped into, never stopping as you rushed to the medical wing.

Upon opening the heavy doors, you gasped at what was revealed.

“...Hello love.” Abe had been stripped of his uniform, leaving him in his swimming shorts with his wonderful blue skin on full display. Only this time instead of admiring it, you couldn’t help feeling tears fill your eyes at the sight of the many bruises dotted across his body.

“Abe? ...what on earth happened?” the air around you turned chilly as you tried to keep calm.

“I’m fine Y/N. Trust me when I say it could’ve been much worse.” Abe attempted to joke, although he wasn’t aware of the full extent of your worry.

“Don’t you think I already know that! Everytime you leave on a mission that doesn’t ‘require’ me, I worry. They tell me not to since emotion links directly into my powers but how can I not? What kind of partner would that make me? Honestly, I wish you’d never get hurt at all…” You started pacing for a short while until you broke down into short, quiet sobs.

“My love, I’m sorry...I didn’t know.” Abe silently slipped off of the bed, wrapping his webbed hands around your forearms. “Please, sit with me?” His gentle invitation encouraged the small flurry building around your form to dissipate. Having powers relating to snow and ice was such a fragile business.

Most days you could be just as dangerous as Liz. Not today, today you just felt...shaky.

“You only didn’t know because I refused to tell you...apparently keeping secrets and freezing people out of my life are the only two things I’m good at.” You replied bitterly. Abe chuckled to himself at that.

“And I know, better than anyone, that that is nowhere near true. Y/N...you are wonderful. You take such good care of me and all those around you. Before I met you...I didn’t know I was capable of loving another person so...much.” It was rare to see someone as eloquent as Abe, struggling with his words.

“I didn’t know anyone even wanted to try loving me...I was all alone in those mountains. I was so surprised to see anyone up there. Let alone you and the others.” Thinking back on the day that the BPRD had found you upon a desolate mountain, they were surprised you hadn’t froze to death. But the legends were true, people were scared to travel up those mountains because they believed a witch had laid a curse on it. Anyone who dared to travel up those icy paths would never return...and if they did, they would never be the same.

Those legends were only half true. You had travelled up those mountains nearly half your life when you were a young girl. One day, you went up there and discovered an old woman, struggling to move. Thinking the worst, you took her back to your village and nursed her back to health. When the woman awoke she thanked you for your kindness, yet when she discovered you were all alone in the cottage she asked where your parents were. Telling her your parents had died and that you were an orphan hadn’t bothered you as much as it did her.

So, when she told you she was a witch, you weren’t surprised either. She offered to train you since you were ‘pure of heart’. But as you grew older and the witch’s grip on reality loosened, you realised, pretty soon, she was going to be leaving you all alone again. After that, you ventured into the mountains, hoping to never be seen again. Shooing away anyone who came close. Tempting yourself with friendship was something you couldn’t bear...not anymore.

That was until you saw him...your Abe. His appearance didn’t phase you at first, but he was freezing to death so you calmed down your flurry. The last thing you wanted to do was kill a literal fish out of water. Once he saw you, he thought he was dead. Claiming aloud that you were an angel, you couldn’t help letting out a little giggle, discouraging his claim.

Hellboy almost knocked you out after he saw what happened, he almost jumped the gun, thinking you were about to murder one of his closest friends. When in reality, you were just helping him up and out of the snow.

Keeping calm whilst falling in love with Abe surprised you. The emotions stirring within you set off a few more alarming new powers, but nothing you couldn’t easily cover up. Being in love brought out the best of you, little did you know, Abe was under your spell almost as much as you were under his.

Which is probably why it hurt so much more to see him like this. Love brought so many wonderful things along with it, but loving someone who got hurt on almost a regular basis felt like someone was stabbing at your own heart.

“Y/N...I’ve lived a long time and I’ve never loved anyone the same way I love you.” Abe’s sincerity brought tears of pure happiness to your eyes, even if your heart was still hurting. Wanting to show him that same amount of love, you began with pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.

Watching the skin under your lips turn a light purple, you grinned at his blush. Pulling away, you bit your lip at the sight of the lipstick mark. It was a light pink, despite the powers you possessed you always tried to contradict them with a more summery attire.

Preferring the way it looked upon Abe’s skin, you began to decorate many different spots with the same mark. Hearing a giggle bubble up in his throat, you hummed at his reaction to your affection. Usually you were the one who would melt under his. But today you had been so worried and you weren’t going to waste another moment.

**

Little did you know Hellboy was walking towards the medical wing with a bunch of files Manning had gifted him. He needed help and of course, the first person he was gonna ask was his best buddy Abe.

“Hey Abe, old pal could you help-” after opening the door, Hellboy discovered a flustered Abe covered in lipstick marks with you sat next to him with an innocent look rendered useless by your smudged lips.

“...I’ll come back later.” HB chuckled to himself, closing the door.

[ibijau]

A Little Help pt3 / On AO3

A third secret meeting between Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen

Nie Huaisang barely made it out of the Unclean Realm this time. In truth, he would have preferred not to leave at all. Distance hadn’t been such an obstacle thus far after all. Lan Xichen, after some hesitation, had agreed to send the score for Cleansing to Nie Huaisang, along with detailed written instruction on how to play it.

Nie Huaisang had taken it as another proof that Lan Xichen could be impossibly naive for a man this clever. It would have been so easy to sell the score of that song to interested party. Certainly, Su Minshan would have paid a real fortune to get his hands on that. Not that Nie Huaisang would ever have traded with someone as slimy as Su She, but he could have, and Lan Xichen shouldn’t have trusted him so easily.

Then again, they’d had no other choice. Nie Mingjue had barely accepted the excuse his brother had given for leaving without permission last time, and Nie Huaisang hadn’t been sure he could have gotten away with it again. He had hated admitting that to Lan Xichen, but Lan Xichen had been very kind in his reply, reminding him that this was only the result of a deep imbalance, that Nie Mingjue loved him and trusted him. And Lan Xichen was right of course, but lately it was a little too easy to forget that.

Lately, Nie Huaisang had become scared of his brother, the way he’d once become scared of their father.

For the past two months, Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen had only communicated through letters and hidden messages, taking ever increasing precautions not to be discovered. Nie Mingjue would have had a fit if he’d learned his brother was conspiring against him, and Lan Xichen remained worried his brother would be harmed if he was discovered to have gone against the Lans’ council of elders. But there was only so far their plan could go without meeting in person again, and Nie Huaisang was forced to eventually agree to meet again, at that same spot as before.

As before, Lan Xichen was waiting for him, wearing a robe of blue so dark it almost looked black. The colour suited him well, better in fact than the usual white of his sect which washed him out. Not that Nie Huaisang had time to spare on such frivolities, not this time.

After the briefest of greetings, Lan Xichen asked to hear the progress he’d made regarding Cleansing, and Nie Huaisang was only too happy to oblige. Time, more than on their previous meetings, was of the essence.

Nervous as he was, Nie Huaisang did his best to play the song appropriately. He paid attention to each note, infusing them with what little spiritual energy he could offer at every key moment, making sure to play at exactly the right speed. It was strenuous work to play that song, but the thought of his brother’s health had pushed him to put more effort into this than he ever had in anything. 

By the time he finished playing the song, Nie Huaisang felt a little weak, and his head was spinning. Thankfully Lan Xichen was sitting right next to him, and Nie Huaisang was able to lean against his side to rest a moment.

“You did very well,” Lan Xichen said, briefly wrapping one arm around Nie Huaisang’s shoulders before quickly removing it, afraid perhaps to act improperly, even when there was no one to see them. “I think you only need a little more practice and you’ll be ready to play it.”

“How soon?” Nie Huaisang asked, pulling away from the other man. “A week? Two? I’ll practice until my fingers bleed, and you can fight off your elders, and…”

Lan Xichen frowned. “Huaisang, it’s not that simple.”

“But I don’t know if I have more time. We need to act soon!” Nie Huaisang urged, grasping Lan Xichen’s hand. “Da-ge is… he’s been like this too long, and he’s really not getting better on his own. I think he’s even getting worse.”

It had been Lan Xichen’s theory that without the corrupted song played to him so regularly, Nie Mingjue might start recovering on his own, without the need for more Lan songs. Nie Huaisang had thought that was more likely than himself ever mastering a complex piece of magic in a matter of mere weeks.

Hope was a bitch.

“I’ve heard he’s become… quite aggressive toward small sects that are taking the Jins’ side,” Lan Xichen cautiously said.

Nie Huaisang miserably nodded, prompting Lan Xichen to gently squeeze his hand.

It had always been Nie Mingjue’s problem that he saw things in black and white, good or bad. That mentality used to be balanced out by his conviction that most people were honest, with only a few bad apples here and there.

Nie Mingjue didn’t believe that anymore.

“You have to do something,” Nie Huaisang said. “You have to make a statement, to let everyone know that da-ge isn’t crazy, that the Jins really did attack him! Otherwise he’ll just end up all alone, like…”

“Like the Wens?”

“More like Wei Wuxian,” Nie Huaisang whispered. He felt Lan Xichen shudder at his side, but refused to look at the other man and glared instead of the guqin before them. “Er-ge, you have to do something, you have to help, you have to!”

“They still have Wangji,” Lan Xichen replied. “I don’t dare… It would be so easy for the council to order his death. Not only that, but they could make the whole world applaud. Just one sentence from them, and even your brother would rejoice at Wangji’s execution. You as well, perhaps.”

"What could he have done to…" 

"I trust you with almost anything, Huaisang,” Lan Xichen quietly said, taking both of the other man’s hands in his, his expression painfully earnest. “But this is not something I can tell you. Even telling you that Wangji's actions put such a threat on his life is too much, but it was the only way to show you I’m not… indifferent to the situation. I just don’t have a choice. You seek to save your brother, and I have to protect mine.”

A fair point, and yet Nie Huaisang grimaced. He simply couldn’t imagine what Lan Wangji, always a stickler for rules, could have done to deserve death. But with Lan Xichen holding his hands like that, it was impossible to ignore the wild beatings of his heart, as if he were truly terrified on his brother’s behalf. If Lan Xichen said that Lan Wangji was in such danger, it had to be true.

“What if… what if you sent him somewhere safe?” Nie Huaisang suggested. “I don’t know the situation, but if he just left, maybe…”

Lan Xichen’s hold on his hands tightened.

“Wangji is not currently in a state of health where it would be wise for him to wander the world or hide in wilderness,” Lan Xichen explained. “Not to mention…”

He hesitated, staring at Nie Huaisang as if searching for something on his face. “It is not just about Wangji,” Lan Xichen confessed. “He’s declared himself the protector of a young orphan he found somewhere. The council of elders has agreed to let this child reside safely within the Cloud Recesses, but only as long as Wangji behaves.”

That certainly complicated things, but it also made sense. It explained why Lan Wangji, in spite of having done some horrible deed that went against his sect’s morals, would remain with them. It could also have been the mere fact that Lan Wangji was definitely the sort of person who believed in rules even when they had negative consequences for himself… but few men kept that sort of belief when the consequences in question were their own death. While if there was a child…

“If your brother could be offered a safe house of sorts where to hide with that child until everything is under control again, would he accept?” Nie Huaisang asked.

“Perhaps, if I explained to him why I need him to disappear for a while,” Lan Xichen replied, a small crease forming on his brow. “But I’m not sure there’s anyone who would accept to hide him at the moment. Not when I’m almost certain the elders might reveal…”

“Er-ge, let me make you a promise,” Nie Huaisang said, gently squeezing the other man’s hands. “Because you see, I own a house a little way out of Qinghe. My father bought it for my mother when they married, for when she needed to retire somewhere quiet, and when she died it went to me. It’s abandoned now, and in disrepair. It’s also quite isolated. So here is my promise: if you trust me enough to send Wangji there with that child of his, I won’t reveal he’s there, no matter what I learn about him. Whether he killed someone, or consorted with demons… even if he ate human flesh, even if he used evil ways to improve his cultivation… no matter what terrible people he associated with, or how inhumane his deeds… as long as he is inside my mother’s house, I will not tell a soul where he is, for your sake.”

And for his own sake as well, Nie Huaisang thought, knowing his brother and him desperately needed an ally, someone the cultivation world would not dismissed as biased against the Jin or touched by madness.

That little declaration had exactly the effect Nie Huaisang hoped for. Lan Xichen froze, his grasp on Nie Huaisang’s hands nearly painful. His face, so pale a moment before, took on a warmer hue visible even in this dark night, while his eyes shone as if he might cry. Before he could shed any tears, Lan Xichen let go of Nie Huaisang's hand so he could pull him into a crushing hug. 

Nie Huaisang only hesitated only a moment before returning that hug. It was just a ploy to get Lan Xichen to finally act, nothing more, but he hadn't been hugged in so long, and it felt good to be held that way. 

"Huaisang, I am so grateful that you would offer this," Lan Xichen whispered, sounding as if he might really start crying. "But I can't accept. It's too dangerous. If your brother found out, in his current state…" 

Nie Huaisang pulled back, not quite breaking the hug, but enough to bring his hands to Lan Xichen's face, cupping his cheeks the way he'd seen some particularly besotted lovers do. 

"You help me with my brother, I help you with yours," Nie Huaisang said with more earnestness than he'd planned. "We're in this together, so please trust me as much as I trust you." 

Lan Xichen could only stare at him with an expression of such open affection that Nie Huaisang almost felt guilty for using it against him. 

Guilt, surely, was the only reason he felt almost dizzy while held so closely, and gazed at with such tenderness, the explanation for his heart beating too fast. 

Nie Huaisang felt guilty, but it was all to protect his brother. And it was also to protect his brother that he impulsively pressed his lips to Lan Xichen's. 

If that didn't convince him to do what was right… 

But it did the trick, just as planned. When they stopped kissing, too breathless to go on, Lan Xichen looked as if he would have gathered every star in the sky, should Nie Huaisang have asked for them. 

"I will talk to Wangji," Lan Xichen promised. "I will convince him… I doubt he'll put up much resistance. He doesn't like that they're using little A-Yuan against him, and he'll like it even less when he find they're using him against me." 

Nie Huaisang agreed, and gave a detailed explanation on how to find his mother's house, and described where he'd hidden some money there, in case if emergency. Nie Huaisang doubted that he would be able to go greet Lan Wangji for fear of attracting attention, but he could provide some help even from a distance. 

"I am for ever in your debt, Huaisang," Lan Xichen said, stealing a quick kiss. "I swear I will repay it. I'll make sure everyone knows the truth about Jin Guangyao, I will force my sect to stand with da-ge. Just hold on a little longer." 

"I trust you," Nie Huaisang replied, stealing a kiss as well. "And until da-ge can see again you are truly his friend, I'll keep practising your song. We're going to save him!" 

"We are," Lan Xichen agreed. 

He looked so happy as he said that, as if it truly mattered to him to help Nie Mingjue, and that in turn made Nie Huaisang’s heart race in his chest. He might forgive Lan Xichen for having sided a while with the wrong sworn brother, he thought. Lan Xichen was doing his best to correct his mistake after all, the way a true friend would do. 

In fact, Nie Huaisang might have already more than half forgiven him.

Still, just to make sure Lan Xichen remembered he had much to gain by doing the right thing, Nie Huaisang kissed him again. Just for safety, he told himself. And the next kiss was to distract Lan Xichen so he wouldn't ask too many questions about Nie Mingjue's current state. 

For the last kiss they shared, Nie Huaisang had no excuses. He had just felt unbearably scared as they both prepared to head home, and he'd wanted a last moment of warmth and tenderness before returning to the coldness and isolation of the Unclean Realm. 

It might not have been his smartest decision to have lost time with that. Dawn was starting to colour the sky when Nie Huaisang finally reached home. Not that it mattered much, he told himself. The secret passage he used to get out was well out of the way. It also wouldn't surprise anyone if he slept later than strictly reasonable once he made it to his room. Or else if he was spotted inside the Unclean Realm, he'd just say he'd wanted to do a bit of bird-watching and got up early. That always worked. 

What he didn't have was an easy explanation being discovered outside the Unclean Realm by his brother, just as he was about to enter that secret passage. 

"I swear it’s not what you think," Nie Huaisang cried out, but the expression on his brother’s face only darkened.

This time, Nie Huaisang was in trouble.

[i-love-hobbies]

My happiness with Eda kinda not being rude towards Lilith (ft. Hunter)

I already praised this but I just realized, I should have more!

In this essay I acknowledged everything bad Lilith has done, so I'm not doing it here, but you DON'T need to read it to understand this post!

Here I forgot something really important.

Lilith was in a cult!

We all know about the people that tell cult members stories of how they have sacrificed people to satan and then laugh about it.

They're laughing about someone being genuinely scared for their life!

This is a threat to them!

Sometimes people that run cults use this to make sure their members are scared from the people outside the cult.

They also make them try to "save" others so it gets even worse.

I'm really happy that Eda's answer to "You look like some sort of a trash collector. Oh wait, you are!" wasn't "I was told by wild magic to sacrifice the person that says this to me at midnight! The last time this happened It felt so relaxing! See you then!"

This repeated a few times in my opinion would have stopped Lilith from saving Eda in episode 19, because if she doesn't join the coven she is beyond saving plus Lilith is risking to become just like her. And later on Lilith would have probably had even more mental health issues. I don't want to imagine Luz, King and Hooty.

Disclaimer:

I can't find a way to continue without saying how I think this should be handled. So I should say I'm not an expert.

I'm an atheist, the last supernatural thing I believed in was fortune telling, chakras and so on. But I realized how easily this can be used to scam people.

My parents buy this tea from this people, that say every doctor except for surgeons can be replaced.

Luckily my parents don't believe in everything.

I wouldn't say I have a lot of experience with this as I'm not sure if what I described is called a cult, honestly. But I've seen some stuff.

Like the fear in my mom's eyes, when I don't take tea, cause it "helps with my tics, adhd and mental health".

How did Eda handle it?

We don't know much about how Eda decided to not join a coven or how much she has heard of other people stories.

But we do know at one point she stopped believing in Belos.

Season 1

She never really talked about Belos with Lilith.

I think this was a good choice, cause all she would get is Lilith telling her how clearly in the wrong she is. Plus Lilith is tired, she can barely process new information and everything in her life is about the coven.

I've heard some people suggest that Eda should have broken into the coven and gotten Lilith out of there. This is a horrible idea. It would only scare Lilith and she would try to run away.

She shouldn't be kept captive. This will traumatize her even further. At this point she'll try to kill herself so she doesn't become like her sister.

So what did Eda do? She put on a show for Lilith to enjoy, full of nostalgia.

She gave Lilith what she needs, a break.

She was showing her that things haven't changed.

When Lilith opened up a bit in episode 11, she showed that it isn't dangerous.

When Lilith came to her house, she played a game with her.

The only time she did something resembling her "I'm gonna steal your tongue." jokes was "If anyone is putting you down it's gonna be me."

Which considering what just happened was clearly not gonna be taken seriously and gave Lilith even more nostalgia.

If Belos didn't give Lilith a timer she was on her way out of the coven.

The problems I have with Eda here are her laughing at Lilith for thinking she'd join the coven as if anyone in there is an idiot, making Lilith defensive.

Also her lie in episode 17 which made the game way too important.

Don't get me started on what would have happened if she lost or when Lilith realises she was lieing.

Episode 18/19

Now in episode 18 Eda lost it. She tried to talk Lilith out of it IN THE MIDDLE OF A FIGHT.

She was trying to hurt Lilith the whole finale, both physically and emotionally.

I'm not calling Eda a bad person, this is how humans react, she went through hell, but this was a mistake.

She should have tried sneaking or something and if she got caught only force to the point of getting out. No name calling.

Season 2

It took her less than two weeks to stop guilt tripping her.

They worked on their competitiveness problem in the second episode.

They could trust each other with physical stuff like the other putting themselves in danger for them.

Lilith is in a safe space, wether she believes so is debatable, though.

I'm impressed by Eda except for the guild tripping but again she's "human".

She deserves praise for this impressive response to Lilith being in the coven. It's not perfect but knowing the average person, it's godlike.

Hunter

After episode 9 I think she might try to help, but so far she hasn't.

She threatened him and then got humiliated.

She made fun of him even after seeing Hunter obviously being hurt by it.

"Don't you recognise that annoying voice?"

"Why does everyone say that?"

"You must be fun at parties!"

No wonder Hunter doesn't respect her at all. He has only seen her the episode after the finale and one episode after Eda's requiem.

The last line was after he was trying to help her.

The only good thing is that, she isn't talking about Belos.

I died from second hand embarrassment watching both of these episodes.

[spiritualgateway]

The crisis virus

written by Steven Black:

While you look around and get the impression that the whole world has gone crazy and is going nuts, you have to realize: This is all perfectly normal and has happened over and over again. With the pest plague, the cholera and the Spanish flu – people reacted with unreasonableness, resentment and rebellion, against ordered measures.

With the plague, people selectively believed that bad winds, an unfavorable constellation of Mars, Jupiter and Saturn or the contaminated water were to blame because the Jews were poisoning the wells. As a logical consequence of such thinking, persecution of Jews throughout Europe occurred. Entire Jewish quarters were burned down and their inhabitants murdered.

Oh yes, a punishment by God was also possible. Even then, in the early 14th century, quarantine and isolation were ordered – as a very late measure.

In the case of cholera, 1831, quarantine and isolation were also applied. From the chronicle of the german city Stettin of this time, one learns:

„The burial of the deceased, buried in a special newly built churchyard […] aroused fear and horror, especially among the lower classes of the inhabitants. These precautions were made even worse by the complete blockade of traffic, which deprived a large part of the inhabitants of their livelihoods and probably also their means of subsistence. The lower classes could not bear this state of affairs and, believing the most absurd rumors, saw in the precautions taken only the means to their perdition.

„The prolonged duration of the cordoning off increased the bitterness, the excitement grew with each passing day, so that the workers most affected were finally inclined to use force to overturn the hated coercive rules.

„…because the agitated crowd, misled by some troublemakers, was under the delusion that cholera and security measures were only being used „to exterminate the common rabble.

The Spanish Flu, 1918 – 1919, rolled over the globe in three successive waves and claimed millions of lives. Conjecture and conspiracy theories arose among the most diverse peoples. Some saw the disease as the devil’s work of German agents, and Germany was suspected of either using insidious biological weapons or poisoning aspirin tablets from the pharmaceutical manufacturer Bayer in order to win the world war. Another theory, widespread at the time, was that the flu had been imported from Spain in tins, which had been poisoned by the Germans who had brought the Spanish canneries under their control. Or it was oraculated that the cause was consequential damages of the war by poison gas missions, which were caused by the exhalations from the mountains of corpses of the battlefields. And of course there was also the evergreen that it was a punishment from God …

First with the second wave, the danger was really recognized and flu alarm systems were introduced, quarantines were imposed over ports and railroad stations, isolation stations in hospitals were set up. „Social Distancing“ was ordered, mass gatherings were prohibited. Schools, theaters, markets and churches were closed. The use of face masks and disinfectants was recommended and in some areas made mandatory by law.

Those who refused to wear face masks were fined. By the way, later studies proved that the prohibition of mass events and the requirement to wear a mouth-and-nose mask reduced the death rate in American cities by up to 50 percent. Where it was not prescribed by law, i.e. only announced as a recommendation, there were many more deaths. The same thing is currently happening in Sweden.

The Corona Virus – today

100 years after the Spanish flu, a new medical crisis is entering the global stage. And just as with the plague, cholera and Spanish flu, where fear and uncertainty accompanied the daily events, the most colorful rumors and theories are flourishing. There seems to be a lid for every pot.

Some political party sees the Corona virus as an obvious foreigner epidemic. Logically, migrants must be to blame for it too. Within the extreme right groups the old perennial argument is active that the Jews are to blame for Corona.

Many vaccination critics freak out at the name Bill Gates, who allegedly wants to decimate humanity and enslave it with microchips. He has the WHO, the media and Angela Merkel personally in his pocket. Then there are people who believe that the new 5 G technology is the real cause of the Corona virus. The Qanon community believes that the virus is merely an excuse for Donald Trump to free thousands of poor, tortured children from underground tunnels.

There are an ever increasing number of people who believe that the virus is nothing more than a normal flu. There is also the idea that this Corona virus does not exist – it would all be just an excuse to get rid of cash and have a controlled financial crash. The usual suspects also know exactly from whom and why – of course to enforce the infamous New World Order, either by the „Deep State“, the „Kabale“ or the „Illuminati“.

A few fundamentalist church officials also took up the same cause:

In a text entitled „A Call for the Church and for the World – to Catholics and all people of good will“, signed among others by the German Cardinal Gerhard Ludwig Müller and initiated by Archbishop Carlo Maria Vigano, former Pontifical Ambassador to the USA, the Corona measures were sharply criticized. The signatories had previously spoken out against bans on worship because of the corona virus and they are all arch-conservative opponents of the current pope. The text stated: „It is a fact that under the pretext of the Covid 19 epidemic, in many cases inalienable rights of citizens have been violated and their fundamental freedoms have been disproportionately and unjustifiably restricted, including the right to freedom of religion, freedom of expression and freedom of movement.

It was further stated that there is reason to believe „that there are forces that are interested in creating panic among the population. Their goal is to permanently enforce „forms of unacceptable restriction of freedom and the associated control over persons and the persecution of all their movements“. „These illiberal attempts at control are the disturbing prelude to the creation of a world government that eludes all control“.

Personal note: By the way – dear church idiots: What about the „forms of unacceptable restriction of freedom“ of my mind, by your religious doctrine? Or „the associated control over persons“, where you let people slide around on their knees and establish a sense of sacrifice by having a figure nailed to a cross worshiped? But a „God’s world government“ would be all right with you, wouldn’t it?  

Anyway, I don’t really expect an answer to that. But what else you should know – the signatories represent an arch-conservative, right-wing current within the Catholic Church. They fervently hate the current pope because he accepts homosexuality and divorce as facts of life and is open to pro-migration and capitalism-critical positions. It is also no coincidence that these clerics of all people are waving their fear of a „new world order“ around. The whole thing is organized by a notorious ultra-right-wing populist – namely Steve Bannon. The man who brought Donald Trump to power through tons of fake news and conspiracy theories.

By the way, there are strong indications that the art product „QAnon“, a fictitious Internet personality, is a product of Steve Bannon. He is the thinking head and mastermind of the so-called new right.

The American government, led by Donald Trump, sees itself as the victim of a Chinese conspiracy initiated either by a mysterious „Deep State“ or preferably by the Democrats – which is one and the same thing in his case. Evangelical clerics see the Corona virus as a punishment from God for homosexuality. A handful of doctors contradict the official statements and believe that the Corona virus is little more than a common flu. The population would get scared over nothing and wearing masks would be very unhealthy. And in the chest tone of conviction, many an empathy-free idiot rambles that it would only affect pre-existing patients who would have died soon anyway.  You know, just collateral damage …

In the USA, the president himself is the main accelerator of emotional states. There were protests against the curfews in several US cities and about 3000 demonstrators, some of them armed and wearing Trump campaign caps and flags, took to the streets in Michigan. Encouraged by Donald, who tweeted „Free Michigan,“ dozens of gunmen entered the parliament building in the city of Lansing.

In Germany and Austria, people suddenly took to the streets and demonstrated against the corona measures of their government. Against an alleged panic-mongering, against an allegedly intended compulsory vaccination, against the curtailment of their basic rights, against an allegedly threatened freedom of opinion, against the obligation to wear masks, against an alleged „Corona dictatorship“, against a „New World Order“ by Bill Gates and much more. What one would not have thought possible before, happened now:

People who call themselves „leftists“, right-wing conservatives, neo-Nazis, people of the freeman movement, spiritual people, and also people who had never been involved with any of the groups mentioned before, stood together in a public square and chanted „We are the people“. And of course they did not wear masks, and of course they did not keep a „minimum distance“. With righteous indignation they held flyers in their hands where „The Basic Law“ is written on them and lamented a loss of it. Although the basic right to personal liberties was only limited due to the situation and receded into the background in favor of the basic right to personal integrity of EVERYONE, suddenly not only the Corona virus seemed to mutate.

A wide range of people suddenly mutated into virus specialists and health experts, legal luminaries and political insiders. It was not at all helpful if individual physicians and virologists publicly held different views, which are not in accordance with the scientific consensus. These people were suddenly elevated to „heroes of „truth“ and made anti-witnesses of the establishment.      

Like moths to a flame, all the discontented, angry opponents of the system, critics of capitalism, right-wing populists pouring oil on the fire, bawling bald-headed people and „Merkel must go“ yellers flocked together and mingled with yoga practitioners, meditators, as well as people who simply wanted a „better system“. Emotional fire accelerators like KenFM, Sven Liebich, Lügenstöckl, NPD offshoots and various AFD supporters moderated the „happening“ and it did not take long until this situation led to the foundation of a new party – called „Resistance 2020“. Founded by Victoria Hamm, the Sinsheim swindle doctor Bodo Schiffmann and the Leipzig lawyer Ralf Ludwig.

The appeal of „Resistance 2020“ continued as long as Covid 19 and the restrictions imposed by governments were highly active. In the meantime this has abated. First the chairwoman Victoria Hamm stepped down from the party (because of internal differences of opinion), her replacement, the chairwoman of the supervisory board of „Humanimity“, Sandra Wesolek, also threw in the towel soon after. And now also the founder and vice-chairman of the party, Bodo Schiffmann, has left Resistance 2020. Only Ralf Ludwig remains, who keeps the coma patient „Resistance 2020“ alive.

In conclusion – it will not yet be completely silent about the topic Covid – 19, but it slowly fades in its importance. At least for the moment. If we are lucky and there will be no 2nd or third wave, it will stay that way.      

Crisis intensification

Another topic has now captured the attention of the world, people and media – a topic that has never been completely absent: racism and police brutality in the USA.

The violent death of the African-American George Floyd, after a police operation, was followed by peaceful protests in the USA, but there were also riots and looting. And as in dealing with the corona virus, Donald Trump shifts to denial of the structural problem, puts the blame on others and does just about anything to pour even more fire into the heated atmosphere.

Under the hashtag #blackllivesmatter, which has been known since 2013 and is a name for an African-American civil rights movement, people are gathering again to demonstrate against state arbitrariness, police brutality and unfair treatment of dark-skinned people. Previous slogans of the movement, such as „Hands up, don’t shoot“, „White silence is violence“, „No justice, no peace“, „Is my son next?“ are being used again, including the now popular „I can’t breathe“ and „BlackOutTuesday“.

It is no longer just a movement of the „black community“. Within just a few days, numerous politicians, celebrities and large companies have raised their voices and spoken out in favor of the BlackLivesMatter movement. More and more representatives of the video game industry are also joining in. Sony, for example, has refrained from presenting the new Playstation 5 due to the current situation. But also companies like Microsoft, Activision, EA, Massive Entertainment, Square Enix, Bethesda, Naughty Dog, Disney, Marvel, Warner Bros, and many other global big players made clear statements against racism and expressed their solidarity. Over 50 influential companies have donated large sums of money to the movement.

Yes, Soros‘ Open Society Foundation is one of them (about $33 million), but is rather outdone by all others, especially FORD Foundation and Borealis Philanthropy (about $100 million). Also worthy of mention are the Hill-Snowden Foundation, Solidaire, the NoVo Foundation, the Association of Black Foundation Executives, the Neighborhood Funders Group-Funders for Justice, Anonymous Donors, and many more.  

It is already becoming apparent that this issue could potentially break Donald Trump’s neck and prevent his re-election. „Poor Donald“, after his mismanagement in the Corona crisis became visible to everyone, now police brutality and racism challenge him. And here again he reacts headlessly and impulse-driven instead of showing presidential leadership. Instead he meets the problem in the familiar perpetrator-victim reversal tactic.

Incidentally, the same thing happens as in the Covid 19 demonstrations in Austria and Germany – extreme right-wing „withe supremacy“ agitators mingle with the demonstrators. They incite people and loot, start brawls and set fire to buildings. Incited by Donald Trump, who simply claimed that it was „the ANTIFA“ that was firing up the demonstrations, his followers do everything in their power to discredit the movement and make it look bad in the eyes of the public.

In a series of messages, a Twitter account called „Antifa US“ had called on protesters to march into neighborhoods and „take what is ours“. Twitter itself had cleared up the fact that behind this account „American Identity Movement“ is the extreme right-wing formerly known as „Identity Evropa“, that was behind the protest and deleted the account.

Blacklivesmatter is a movement that I wholeheartedly endorse. What I find less good about it is that this conglomeration of people is happening on the streets while the corona virus is still highly active in the  world. There is also no question of keeping a distance, a large majority can be seen wearing masks during the protests, but not all of them. I fear that this will have some unpleasant consequences. But the German demonstrations against a „Corona dictatorship“ and against police arbitrariness and brutality by blacklivesmatter could not be more different.

The sense of demonstrating against a world domination by Bill Gates and an alleged forced chippings or because one is forced to wear a mask temporarily stinks against blacklivesmatter. This is about addressing really important issues of the human species. The core statement of „Blacklivesmatter“ is – “ stop treating us like shit!“

It did not take long, of course, for the rumor mill to start bubbling on this topic as well and the „usual suspects“ went peddling „THE truth“ about it to everyone. You know, from „it’s all a government diversion“ to George Floyd wouldn’t be dead. It would all be a false flag operation and George Soros would be behind the protests. Xavier Naidoo also tells his followers about it and although the man from Mannheim had his own experiences with racism, he is not too stupid to devalue the blacklivesmatter movement. He described the demonstrators who are now taking to the streets against racism and police violence as hypocrites. And ends with a whataboutism rant – „anyone who comes up with an organization called Black lives matter is a divider“.

Naidoo justified his statement by saying that for him all lives count. Sounds plausible on the surface but clearly demonstrates that he did not understand the fundamental problem at all. Naidoo parrots something he has probably read or heard from Alex Jones or another opponent from the disinformation movement. The blacklivesmatter movement has been struggling with such whataboutism arguments from the beginning, since 2013. Not surprisingly, „All Lives Matter“ is often used as a counter-argument by the racist „white supremacy“ groups.

Barack Obama found good words for this: „I think the reason why the organizers use the term „Black Lives Matter“ was not because they wanted to imply that other lives do not matter. They are saying that there is a specific problem in the African American community that does not exist in other communities. This is a legitimate problem that we need to address.

Sounds logical, right? It is. Let’s say you broke your arm and you go to the doctor. He won’t tell you – „all bones count“, but will turn to the current problem. The bone that is just broken. If your house is on fire, the fire department will not tell you “ all houses caunt“ – they will simply put out the fire.  

If you come to blacklivesmatter with alllivesmatter, you are part of the problem not the solution. This tries to ignore or disguise the problem by directing the criticism behind it to another topic.

It is definitely crisis – and virus time

A virus form that is completely unknown to most people is going around and is at least as infectious as Covid 19. They are mental and emotional viruses. Positive, negative, destructive and constructive viruses of all kinds. Created by humans every day and they influence all humans, more or less.

We are usually not used to accept the idea that our thoughts as well as our feelings and the words we utter have substantial meanings. Substantial is literally meant here – both thoughts, emotions and words contain substances that act as carriers of their expression. Through which the respective content of thoughts, feelings/emotions and words is transported, which always involves an „inaudible“, complex bundling of frequencies and takes on form, sound and tones. We do not „just think“, we generate a thought form for it, depending on the intensity of our respective thoughts – a kind of „pale being“.

And we do not „just feel“, we generate emotional signatures that can be perceived, „read“, felt and recognized by other people, consciously or unconsciously. We do not „just talk“, our words always convey a large context of mental and emotional content. Whoever listens carefully can often discover contradictions in the words, because the transported feelings are not in harmony with them.

As the person we are, we resemble a piano. We are a musical instrument with many keys and tones, with which the most diverse vibration frequencies can be expressed. Depending on how well we have learned to handle our instrument and how the individual tones are tuned, it will decide how harmonious or disharmonious our personal sound, our own melody, is. Everything we think, feel, say or do sounds through us and creates sounds that are received by others.

The more sensitive a person is or the better he can listen, the more contents of his counterpart he will be able to perceive. How aware someone is or is not of these levels, however, is basically irrelevant. The thought forms, emotional content, sounds and frequencies of other people are also perceived unconsciously. Basically, we all speak through individualized codes – the spoken or written words mean nothing in themselves. The linear arrangement of symbols (letters) that form words has a meaning for us because they are charged with emotional and mental sounds that form a kind of overall picture. We all encode such images on a daily basis and send them out from us. And we all decode every day a huge accumulation of sent consciousness images – which we have either seen, heard or read.

How much we are influenced by the opinions of other people or media – their generated images – depends to a large extent on our own identity structure. And on the respective topics that are founded in it.

Our exchange of information and images becomes a virus – either constructive or destructive – when it spreads in wide circles and becomes more and more emotionally charged. Our thoughts, emotions and the words we speak not only influence ourselves, but also other people. This means we infect other people with our ideas. And other people infect us with their ideas. If an idea or assertion fascinates, impresses, captivates or outrages us, it can go so far that we forget the origin and, spurred on by the charge of an idea, run amok with it.

All of us together are embedded in a collective frequency field, which is reflected in personal, national and global situations. None of us is virtually „an island“, we all manipulate and influence each other. We can hardly escape this, unless we have no contact to other people anymore. But even then it would probably be difficult to escape the collective astral field.

The collective field contains positive, negative, destructive and constructive viruses of all kinds. We encounter emotional and mental viruses all the time, but nowhere in such a concentrated form as in the „social media“. In this respect, the Internet is a single, gigantic virus slingshot. And all of us who make use of it cannot get away with it.

The opinion of others

The technical development of the Internet has made it possible for us to be exposed to a storm of opinions and views on a daily basis in a way that has never been possible before. About 22,510 GB of data are fed into the Internet every second. That is about 2 billion GB per day (exactly 1,944,864.00 GB [2015]). YouTube has a monthly data volume of about 16 Exabyte (Exabyte = 1018 Byte). About 3 million videos per hour are consumed on YouTube. There are 1. 012 315 000 websites on the net. About 16 million of these websites are hacked annually.

About 4 million new blog entries are written every day, 80 million photos are uploaded to Instagram, 618 million „tweets“ are posted – that is 7130 tweets per second. Facebook processes 2.5 billion pieces of content, 2.7 billion likes and 300 million photos every day. All in all, this adds up to a daily data volume of more than 500 terabytes, just for FB alone. About 4 billion search queries are made daily via Google and 10 billion videos are viewed on YouTube. And these numbers will increase, the rush on our inner senses will become more and more intense.

One drama after the other is being chased through the internet every day. An ever-increasing number of bloggers and websites vie for our daily attention. And hardly anybody takes the time to ask themselves, is it really true what I hear or read? What is it really about? And what would be even more important: Does it really have anything to do with ME? Is this really MINE? Or did I just get infected with an emotional virus that is related to a personal topic?

Although we humans generally assume that we have reasonable opinions and justifiable arguments, or that we see the world with clear eyes – this is rarely the case. Each of us lives in our own reality and we all believe that the world is as we secretly assume it to be. The perspective of how we see the world is largely based on the filter of our own beliefs.

One of the effects that has come through the Internet is the amazing development that many people have become aware of how the mainstream press often reports manipulatively or at least with omission – and sometimes doesn’t present the whole picture. By the way, this is not the fault of the press. Nobody can cover all sides of a story, and certainly not in a single article. If you want to know halfway exactly what’s going on, you have to make an effort yourself and look at different perspectives. But the same people then believe every shit that somebody says on YouTube. Actually, many people today don’t believe anything anymore.

But „alternative facts“ to the corona crisis, you believe them. Doctors who are not virologists or virologists who have not been up to date in this field for a long time, we listen to them more than to the top specialists.

We believe that a statesman who uses victim reversal as a means of perpetration. People who lament with a chest sound of the conviction that the Basic Law is in danger – we let ourselves be influenced by that. We reject a black civil rights movement because we allow ourselves to be persuaded that this means that not all lives count. One encounters „BlackLivesMatter“ with WhiteLivesMatter or „AllLivesMatter. Or if someone once again complains – „you’re not allowed to say all this anymore“ – we agree with indignation. Not realizing that he/she has just said it on Facebook, Youtube, Twitter, blogs, etc. Which of course leads the statement ad absurdum, but somehow we don’t really notice it anymore.

A youth movement for environmental awareness, „Friday for future“, is met with „Friday for poverty in old age“. Renewable forms of energy, such as wind turbines that generate renewable electricity, are met with „but they kill innocent insects“. If you read somewhere, in any newspaper, that right-wing extremist violence has increased again in the last year, you don’t have to wait long for someone to comment „hey, what about left-wing violence? A women’s movement for sexual abuse and violence is countered with the argument that there is also abuse of women against men. An African-American movement against police brutality and structural racism is countered with „and what about racism against whites? Particularly deep-seated – „what about racism against Germans?

What is actually wrong with us?

Why do we let „whataboutism arguments“ manipulate us? Why can’t we see through the transparency of such cheap maneuvers and recognize that they distract us from the actual core of a situation or a justified criticism and divert our attention to another area?  

Besides all the positive and constructive things the Internet stands for, there is also a dark side to it. Among other things it is misused for a modern form of witch hunts and witch burning. Angela Merkel, Greta Thunberg, Barack Obama, George Soros, Bill Gates, the Rothschilds, Rockefeller and many other public figures are burned at some Internet stake every day, applauded and cheered. And this comes not only from the right, but from all sides. If you look at the comments on such postings, you can observe the violent reactions, where a storm of indignation, anger and hatred is unleashed, which is then projected onto the designated persons.

The art of differentiation seems to have become a lost art.

There is such a variety of information and opinions, often colored by interests, sometimes just imaginatively lied about and only partially true, that it would basically take some time and energy to separate the facts from rumors and lies. A personal effort that hardly anyone is willing to put in, or perhaps doesn’t have the time.

But that is what we all have to learn.

Media competence

Without media competence, we run the risk of drowning in the flood of information. Not only reading texts, but also watching YouTube videos or films today requires more and more critical discernment. The critical filtering of information, comments, text content and the images offered in addition, is proving to be an ever increasing challenge. Today, for every x any topic, completely different and often contradictory opinions are in circulation. And we are experiencing the phenomenon that people often only read the headlines of articles and not the whole article. The attention threshold has become extremely low for some people. Headlines alone can lead to emotional convulsions …

It is important that we learn to understand how communication works and how information affects us. When we read or hear words, we don’t just sort the meaning of the words and sum them up in a particular context. We also record all the unsaid, the energetic, mental and emotional signatures that the speaker or writer gives to their words. It is already scientifically known that in communications, brains are synchronized. To a synchronization of brain waves that goes beyond mere speech processing. It will not be long before we discover that this synchronization does not only occur in spoken communication, but in any kind of communication, even when the information is transported via screens.

If we identify with what someone writes or says because something within us resonates with it, then synchronization occurs with the mental, intellectual and emotional content that is presented to us. Emotional content of all kinds affects the heart field, the glands and the electrochemical energies of the body, i.e. the energetic environment in the body, which causes either an increase or decrease of the personal energy level.

The question that arises is, what do I focus my personal attention on? And can I think for myself or do I simply take over every piece of information offered to me, which includes concepts and perspectives from other people that I usually don’t even know? If we take over everything that strangers prepare for us, we are condemned to walk around with concepts that are not our own.

But the only person who has a responsibility here, what kind of information he lets into his system, is me. The only person who is able to differentiate between the information and my personal feeling about it is me. The only one who can learn to check the opinions of others is me. Nobody will do that for me.

Nevertheless, it is also true that constant effort, investigation, checking and research is no guarantee for a secure knowledge – sometimes you are simply confronted with the fact that you cannot know at the moment! But you can learn to endure that.

What we see is in my eyes, in many respects, an expression of a massive crisis of orientation and a resulting upheaval. Humanity is beginning to define itself anew, once again. We are moving from an age where people were rather „prisoners of their consciousness“ and their experience, to an epoch where people understand that they are NOT their consciousness. But that his consciousness is an attribute, a quality, his very own being and his creative power. And how this is expressed, lies in his very personal responsibility.

The old psychological self of humanity, which accepted oppression of the weak, predator capitalism, perpetrator-victim conversion, wars, exploitation of earth and humanity, will be replaced. But this old energy is struggling for survival. Hard and fierce. We are far from being through this.

One thing can be sure – the next crisis is waiting. And again it will be driven through the Internet village in an over-dramatized way. Where will you stand then? To which side will you then give your spiritual support? What will you be guided by? Your reason and your own views after you have dealt with the situation to some extent or will you follow the emotional pull that was triggered by the opinions of others?

What kind of sound will you add to the overall melody?

Until next time same station

DISCLAIMER: Nothing you read here is THE truth. It is my truth. My perception and how I see things – now, in this moment.

THE INFORMATION SPACE

[thatfilthyanimal]

I really don't want to vent here but I also don't want to overload my friends so I'm just going to do it and suck it up, fuck it.

I feel pretty fucking horrible in a very deep way and I don't know how to talk to people about it. This started up around the beginning of April and I thought it was in relation to April just being generally rough on me because of how my dad died, but it hasn't let up yet. If anything, I feel worse. Way worse.

I'm guessing I need to raise the dosage of my medication and I'm actually really heartbroken about that in a way I don't know how to describe. How am I supposed to feel if shit is so horrible I have to take the highest possible dosage I can safely take of a medication? How am I supposed to feel calling up a psychiatrist I just told two months ago my dosage was stable and I was feeling great, to tell her "ha ha ha I high key hate life and want to die again, please, raise my shit so I can hold up the illusion that I'm not a fucking lost cause a little longer?"

So... some of the only stuff I'm really comfortable touching on here is the whole transphobia at the doctors, thing. After spending most of 2020 living at doctors because of unknown stomach pain and just trying not to fucking die from something during a global pandemic I'm at a loss now. Nobody ever figured out my pain issues, I've just changed around what I eat and it seems better... Sort of? But mostly my existence in general hurts because coming out as trans to my newer doctors has been... uncomfortable. Now it feels like every time they "ma'am" me or pointedly call me "a woman" or "female" in a phone call (where I'm specifically asking for help regarding getting on testosterone) I want to claw myself out of my own skin and bury myself deep in the ground where nobody ever has to see me again.

Literally all the shit that I was terrified of that kept me from admitting to myself I was trans this entire time is fucking real and-- I'm weak, I'm fucking weak and scared and tired because I've never needed so much help with something so desperately in my life and the ONE PLACE I should be able to get help from I'm... terrified of, now. I just want to cancel all my future appointments and just never leave my house again because what is the fucking point. I'll never look right and I'll never be taken seriously and my weight is always an issue some-fucking-how regardless of the actual problem, so just. Fuck. Why leave. Why go anywhere. Why try to take care of myself anymore just. why.

I knew this would happen if I came out, I knew admitting I was trans would be a challenge of my ability to continue to love myself and... you know, I do, I do love myself, and coming out has proven that more than anything, but the cost of that almost feels like it outweighs the euphoria of being myself.

But now I'm in that weird middle-state of my body and voice not "matching" my gender and nobody taking said gender seriously and. What do I do. I'm so terrified of this happening at another doctor's office that it hurts to try to reach out. Literally the nearest doctors that might help me are an hour and a half out in Chicagoland, if not Chicago proper. And things feel so uncomfortable here where I am that I may literally need to drive that hour and a half just for basic health care, not just the hormone therapy and. Like. It hurts.

If I had figured this out sooner while I was in Champaign, there was an endocrinologist there and the city was super LGBTQIA+ friendly and I'm kicking myself for not doing something before I moved three hours away. Getting help could have been maybe a 15 minute drive in my own city instead of an hour and a half into the heart of Chicago, which, btw, I fucking hate driving in because everyone out there drives like a crazy asshole.

Idk. I'm tired and I'm scared and worn down and I don't know how to ask for help. I tried with one of my local friends but, well, their life is busy and its always "oh I forgot to ask my friend about that place here that would help you, sorry, there's been so much going on" but. It's been months now. They were the one that suggested I reach out to said people about whatever place it is, and I don't want to be rude but also... are you going to help me? Because it sounds like my sorry ass is stuck going to Chicago in a global pandemic to get T and I'm really upset about it.

Like, if my friend can't even see it as important than I guess I just have to do everything alone. Just like I've had to with BPD.

This is getting way longer than I meant, and it's not even the worst thing just. I'm feeling vulnerable and isolated as hell and I need more support than I have and I'm too scared to ask for it. And most of the people I know can't do jack or shit about it because there's really nothing they can do, so like. Why ask them. Why tell them. Idk.

I'm talking to a therapist too, have been for months, and she's nice but she's not great for trans issues. She's supportive but it's not her specialty. Because I have borderline I have to kind of choose my battles when it comes to therapists... There are therapists that handle BPD and therapists that handle trans issues but my insurance doesn't cover one that specializes in both at once in this town. And BPD is super misunderstood-- the wrong therapist may admit me for just passive suicidal ideation not realizing it's a common and (generally non-life-threatening) part of BPD that doesn't hold real threat. Getting a therapist for trans issues that doesn't know how to read the weight of my depression/anxiety/suicidal thoughts and call them correctly is dangerous and... that's its own problem. I have to choose my battles here and it's really hurting me.

Like I really don't know what to do. Do I get a second therapist and risk that they may not understand BPD and may be overwhelmed and scared to work with me? God. I've never had two therapists at once and the thought is... idk. It hurts.

I just want to feel okay, and I don't. And I'm more tired and scared and feeling misunderstood than I've ever been and the idea of reaching for help is terrifying me. This feels like stuff I should only be unloading on a therapist, not my friends... my friends deserve better than that. But also I'm well aware of how my friendships will go if I start to use them to vent and seek help like this.

Idk. I wish I knew how to talk about everything that's wrong right now but I... can't. It sounds horrible and mean when I say it all and I don't want people to look at me like I'm fragile and someone to pity, but that seems to be my life and how people are going to view me. I basically exist as an example of what not to be. So. Idk. I'm tired and I want help but I'm scared to ask for it.

Past friends have taught me that if I seek help and cry to them that I'm a Problem that they need to distance from and. It hurts. There may be friends that do genuinely want me to come to them and I don't know how to try; the idea scares the shit out of me. Everyone I've ever opened up to (besides my partner) has eventually grown sick of me and I can't handle losing what support I have right now.

I need to hush cause this sounds blamey and I don't mean it that way. My life is just... highkey fucked and I'm trying to hold on and struggling about it.

I don't regret finally admitting to both myself and everyone else that I'm trans, but fuck, the weight of this level of medical rejection on top of the BPD feelings interfering with my ability to reach to friends for help just... it's so much. And I feel guilty complaining about it at all.

And every time I post something public about it I'm just giving people insight on why they should avoid me, or worse, exactly what they can do/say if they want to hurt me.

[skylarmoon71]

AU Leonardo x Blind Murdock Reader (TMNT 2014/2016)- Chapter 7

~Two Months Later~

“It’s in your left hand.”

“Damn she got it again!!”

You smiled at Mikey, and he tossed the candy into his mouth.

“Alright Mikey, it isn’t a magic show stop messing with her.” you grin at Leo’s comment.

“I don’t mind. It actually helps sharpen my senses.”

Leo just shakes his head, a small smile playing on his lips. Mikey was pretty easy to keep entertained. He jumped from his spot, giving you a high five as he moved to the game console to occupy his time.

You turned in his direction, the smile never leaving your face. Although you couldn’t see him, just listening to his voice, you could almost picture him. How could someone shoulder so much and still be so cheerful all the time. It was amazing, inspirational even.

You gripped the cane in your hand, leaning your head to the left.

“Leo?” There was a quick strum of his heartbeat, and your brows knitted in confusion.

“Everything okay?” You could have been imagining it, but he was acting pretty weird lately. He kept lingering around you, when you trained together it was different too. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

“I should probably leave you to it.” He didn’t wait for you to even form a reply, he was already leaving. You frowned, baffled at the strange behavior.

“Don’t take it personal, Leo’s weird like that.” Raph stepped over giving you a pat on the shoulder. “If you ask me though, I think he has a cr-”

“RAPH! C-Can you help me with this please.” Donnie’s stuttering voice made you raise a brow, and Raph grumbled walking over reluctantly. “You know I’m no good at this tech stuff.” he groused. You were left standing there, perplexed.

“Leo has a what?” With all you were capable of, you honestly thought it made reading people easier. But it was still a slight mystery. Or maybe you hadn’t quite mastered all your talents yet. What you did know though, Leo was definitely keeping something from you. You were going to find out what.

You followed in his direction, determined for some answers. It’s been just two months. So much had changed. Your perspective on life, it was completely different from before, and you had the turtles to thank for that. In the beginning you convinced yourself that you were fighting for the city. Your father never wanted you to follow in his footsteps, that is why you worked so hard at school. You did your part to ensure you could pursue a healthy career.

But when he died, because of your selfish wish for him to win that stupid match, you couldn’t think of what else you could do. You needed to do something to make up for his death. To fill that hole in your chest. So you fought. For people who couldn’t fight for themselves. That’s how it started. Somewhere along the way you stopped caring about your own well being. It wasn’t really your tolerance for pain, it was more like your disregard for your own health. You didn’t care about the hits your body was constantly taking. You just..wanted it to end.

If you hadn’t met the turtles, that would have still been your mindset.

Their optimism, positivity, dorkiness...love, it’s what has completely rewritten the world for you. You didn’t have to be alone. You didn’t have to hurt. You could be a part of something more, and still make a difference. That’s what you thought. Your head lowered. Leo’s behavior made you question if you’d done something to offend or possibly sway his trust in you.

You couldn’t recall such a thing happening. The start of your partnership was tough, maybe more on your part. Trust issues kind of did that. But you were better now. Or so you thought.

A gentle knock to his door.

“Leo?”

It creaks open, and you can feel where he stands, just a few meters away. His hand stills from his present action.

“(Y/N), is something wrong?” you close the door. “I was about to ask you that, you’ve been acting weird. So I came to find out why.”

“Nothing’s wrong, I’m fine.” You stop walking, a bit stunned by something. There’s a change in his voice. One that Leo’s never used before.

“You’re lying.”

Leo had never once lied to you, and now you’re a bit terrified. Did you really do something to jeopardize your relationship with him?

Leo spots the panic that’s clear on your face and before you can overthink it, he makes his way over to you, you're a bit scared of what he’s going to say. Does he not want to work with you anymore? He rests his hands on your shoulders gently to calm you down, and your head raises. This is one of the few times you wish you could see. You want to read his expression, find some kind of indication of what he’s going to say. What he needs to say.

“Leo I-”

“I can’t do this anymore.”

Your heart almost stops at the statement. There’s a little part of your mind that tells you to run as fast as you can. You don’t want to hear the rest. It’s your biggest fear. You finally manage to trust someone again and it’s stolen from you. Your body nearly goes into autopilot, but the strumming that rings in your ears, it stops you. You swallow as you begin to make out just what it is and where it’s coming from. It’s a heartbeat. You catch every quick increase.

“I can’t continue to pretend that I don’t have feelings for you (Y/N).”

This is far from what you thought. You’re not sure what to say, because for the longest while, you sort of forgot that you’re a teenage girl. When was the last time you even felt like one. A warrior, that’s been your title since you realized what you were capable of. How does someone as amazing as Leo fall for someone as broken as you.

It doesn’t make sense, this doesn’t make sense. Hell, didn’t guys like that whole damsel in distress thing, and what about sex appeal. You were covered in scars for goodness sake. Not all visible, but still very much there.

“You...y-you can’t..that’s...I’m not..”

You’re not even pretty. Damn you didn’t even know, the last time you saw your reflection was when you were ten. You backtrack to try and evaluate all of this. You can’t get your mind to focus and because of your current predicament, you don’t even register the bed. The back of your knee hits the bottom of the bed, and you fall back in shock.

Leo notices, moving to help. He stops when he notices there’s no clear danger, but your flustered expression, it just increases his heart rate, and that jump starts yours. Leo is still partially leaning over the bed, hand pressed into the side of the mattress right at your side. You can feel him, and it leaves you breathless, and red faced. Were you really blushing. You didn’t think you were capable of such a thing.

“You..really have no idea how amazing you are, how beautiful…” His whispers just make the color in your cheeks worse, and you're angry at your heart. It just won’t slow down. He lowers unto his elbows slowly, and you feel a bit paralyzed in this moment. What do you do? You’ve never been in this position. Leo is now face to face with you. His other hand rests on your cheek, and you’ve regained some movement.

“L-Leo you-” his finger runs along your lower lip, and you tremble with want.

Why the hell does it feel so damn good to be touched by him?

“I know how I feel about you (Y/N), I think I’ve known the minute you took off that mask.”

His head turns, and now you feel his breath gently wafting over your lips. He’s right there. Probably mere inches away. If you move just a little, you can close the distance and claim them, claim him.

“But I won’t do anything until you’re ready.”

You haven’t even noticed that your hands have been trembling. Leo apparently has, and all at once, his touch disappears. He lets out a soft breath.

“I’m willing to wait (Y/N), because I care about you, and you’re more than worth it.”

You're in awe, and you can tell it takes everything in him to walk away from this moment, but he does. And your left lying there, reconsidering all that’s happened that led to this point.

[kitkatt0430]

the flash and the problem of the pointless sacrifice

It starts at the end of season one. Eddie Thawne picks up his gun and shoots himself, dying to protect Iris, Barry, and the rest from his dangerous descendent Eobard Thawne.

Season two ends with its reversal, Barry creating the Flashpoint Timeline that, though its eventually set back to 'normal-ish', leaves a time remnant of Eobard Thawne alive and well (if running scared from the Black Flash/Hunter Zolomon as a speed zombie) to wreak havoc once more.

And I get it. The Reverse Flash is one of the Flash's most iconic villains - killing him off in season one couldn't be permanent. But apparently Eddie's suicide could be and the message that sends is... unfortunate.

Eddie is an extremely kindhearted person and we see that about him again and again throughout season one. He always has a smile for the people he cares about and he's an absolutely terrible liar. But we also know that he was bullied as a child/teen and since he never brings up the subject of his own family, it's likely he doesn't have a support structure outside of Central City. And the support structure he does gain in Central City was Barry's support structure first. There's not a single person we see Eddie spend time with in season one that didn't know Barry first.

And that's a big part of what wears him down over the course of the season. When both Barry and Eddie need support, Barry gets it first. Barry's secrets are treated as something Eddie has to prioritize over his relationship with Iris. Barry's loved Iris longer than Eddie's known her and while Iris loves Eddie, she also loves Barry and she's infatuated with the Flash - not realizing he's Barry's alter ego. Over the course of the season, Eddie constantly tries to connect with Barry and Barry constantly holds back. Their relationship is never equal. And that's what leaves Eddie open to Eobard's manipulations with the future news article.

And Eddie tries to make his own future with Iris anyway. But even with Iris accepting his proposal, Joe makes it clear he'll never truly accept their relationship and Eddie's sense of self worth is at an all time low. And that's the state of mind he's in during the fight in the pipeline. When Barry chooses not to let Eobard go after all, it puts them all in a position of potentially having to deal with this fight between the two speedsters just... never ending. It puts Iris in danger because Barry cares about her and because while Eddie is Eobard's ancestor... Iris isn't. From Eobard's point of view, Eddie's the only one who isn't expendable and from Eddie's point of view... he's the only one who is expendable.

His answer is suicide. And his death immediately erases Eobard from the timeline, but its also implied to have contributed to the re-emergence of the singularity. But at least Eobard was dead.

At least, until Barry created Flashpoint at the end of season 2. Presumably Eddie was alive in Flashpoint, but we never see him. Maybe he stays in Keystone instead of transferring to Central City. Never meets Iris. Never gets worn down to feel like he's not good enough. Never kills himself.

When Flashpoint is reset, Eddie's dead again but now his sacrifice has been rendered moot because Eobard's still alive as a time remnant.

It sets a rather nasty precedent for the show.

Season two also ends with a suicide. This time it's Barry's.

Much like Eddie the year before, Barry's been worn down. He had his place in his family's come into question, with Henry leaving at the start of the season and Wally's arrival midway through the season. His back is literally broken by the stress of fighting Zoom and despite everything he's suffered for the city, his honor is called into question the instant a different speedster takes to thievery. He has to give up his speed to protect Wally only for that to immediately put Caitlin in danger. His colleagues are brutally murdered by Zoom to teach him a lesson. His father finally comes back for good, only to be murdered in the same place as Barry's mother.

Honestly, there is no question (to my mind anyway) that Barry's suicidal at the end of the season. And because Barry his time remnants are fundamentally the same person at the moment of their split, the time remnant Barry creates is suicidal as well.

That time remnant tears himself apart to stop Zoom's plan to destroy the multi-verse. His very existence also lures in the Time Wraiths that take Zoom away, transforming him into the mindless Black Flash. All at the cost of a version of Barry killing himself, going unlamented and forgotten. But at least the multi-verse was safe.

Until the Red Skies Crisis when the multi-verse is actually destroyed and rebooted.

Another sacrifice rendered pointless.

HR does not kill himself in season three. But he deliberately places himself in a position to be killed in Iris' place. He arrives on the heels of a scandal on his Earth where he's been revealed to have been taking credit for someone else's work - with that person's blessing, but its still ruined his reputation. He comes wanting to reinvent himself, but from the start he's not the person the team really wants. They want Harry. Cisco wants Harry. He gets it hammered in that his strengths aren't appreciated by the team because he's not a scientist. His efforts to help STAR Labs are dismissed entirely. The only reason any attempts to help his museum venture succeed are because changing the future might save Iris.

It's not that HR is disliked, but he's left acutely aware that he's considered 'a bit much' and that he's always going to come second to the people he puts first. In fact, Tracy's probably the only one who truly and completely appreciates HR as he is.

So HR swaps places with Iris, knowing that he's going to die when he does. And while HR doesn't kill himself, there's an argument to be made that what he did was still suicide by proxy.

And this is a sacrifice that sticks, because Iris West is the love interest. She's never going to be killed off for real.

Three seasons ending with a suicidal sacrifice. And only one of them doesn't have that sacrifice reversed or nullified. Unfortunately, that's not the end of it either.

Harry leaves his Earth at the start of season four. His relationship with his daughter, which was shown to still be strong in season three, has somehow deteriorated to the point where she's thrown him off her support team and he comes to Earth-1 to reconnect with the found family he forged during season two. He's in the midst of a crisis and his understanding of himself as a parent is unraveling. And then DeVoe calls the other pillar of Harry's self identity into question, because Harry's genius isn't enough on its own anymore. He's not smart enough to out think DeVoe and his Earth-1 family is suffering. So Harry creates his own downfall, burns out his own brain trying to be the smartest. And he sacrifices his last moments of lucidity to find the answer to stopping DeVoe. In doing so, Harry puts Barry in the position to save Ralph's life.

But DeVoe still gets the last laugh when he causes the STAR Labs satellite to come falling down, nearly destroying the city and creating Cicada in the process.

But unlike previous seasons, Harry doesn't die. He gets some of his intelligence back and immediately gets exiled by the writers back to Earth-2 due to the massive problems with ableism this show has. But that's a different conversation.

Season five is probably the only season not to include a suicidal character who's kills themselves. Nora dies when she erases herself from the timeline by accident, but we know now she'll be back in the back half of season seven, along with her new brother. But one out five seasons not taking a suicide (or similar action in Harry's case) and painting it as a noble - but ultimately useless - gesture is rather... bad as far as track records go.

Season six has the alternate Barry Allen - implied to be the Barry from the 90s show - who dies in place of this show's Barry. To save the multi-verse and let this other Barry go home to his wife, something he'll never have with Tina again. And the multi-verse is destroyed anyway.

Season seven opened with Nash Wells, whose usual method of investigating mysteries and hoaxes led to the Anti Monitor's freedom and the multi-verse's destruction. His home Earth destroyed so he can never go home. He's confronted with an alternate version of his dead daughter, who can barely stand his presence. He begins to hallucinate alternate versions of himself and is possessed by the Reverse Flash and all his research on how to create a new Speed Force - to try to make up for some of the damage he's caused - points to a single conclusion. The only way to make things better is for him to die.

Instead, Nash's death immediately makes things worse. The artificial speed force is flawed and Barry destroys it in the very next episode. And while one could argue that Nash's death allowed Barry to save Iris and ultimately restored the original Speed Force, it doesn't negate the fact that Nash's suicidal state of mind wasn't addressed by the people who called him friend. And his legacy was immediately deemed a failure and destroyed.

While I wouldn't say the show is glorifying suicide, there's a subtle and incredibly troubling repetition in the story telling on the show that frames suicide as the right decision in certain circumstances. Even though what's being sacrificed for often comes to naught. And it's incredibly uncomfortable, seeing it all laid out like this.

I'm still really not sure what to make of it all, but I've got no doubt it ties into the show's ableism with regards to mental health issues. Because every time its someone whose mental health has been brought down to a low point who commits these acts of 'sacrifice' and while the team grieves these losses... they don't seem to learn from them either. Because it just keeps happening.

(Think I missed something? Please, by all means, add on.)

[hedgebtch]

     the magicians sentence starters.      part i.

there are more important things.

it's always something with you, isn't it? it's always an emergency.

your ability to think that we have the slightest molecule of control over anything never ceases to amaze me.

well, i'm sure you're a hit at parties.

i'm still high.

i am the angel protecting your future. tighten your shit.

you can't run away hard enough, can you?

everybody medicates.

am i hallucinating?

if you were hallucinating, how would asking me help?

thank god that you're confused too!

don't you want students who make actual inquiry instead of just accepting like sheep?

this won't hurt a bit.

quit dicking around! do some goddamn magic!

playing with time is such difficult magic. you'll just make it worse.

magic is real. but you've gathered that, haven't you?

so... 'be a magician'? is that illegal, or..?

are you guys trying to take over the world, or...?

if you want to take over the world, we don't teach that, but... give it a go.

why do you have all that nerd-boy dragon porn shit anyway? are you twelve?

hmm. he's not that cute.

do not come by our house if you have anything important to do the next morning.

maybe he should be scared.

we all signed this waiver. i hope you read yours. it says 'spell work is not unlikely to murder you. and if so, oh well'.

so stay on the garden path, kid.

let's go find something magic to smoke.

it's good to be aware that the world is inherently unfair.

you go back out there to the great big boring world, and you'll never find your way back without us.

i need you to tell them they were wrong about me.

god, were you always this smug?

you have no idea how long it took me to find a spell that was real.

you're hurting yourself, and you're not okay.

they cut off my life.

you thought the school was the only place to track the gift?

it's going to kill you. do you understand?

i know you feel you finally belong, but that place isn't the point.

you feel right because you're starting toward your destiny. that's all.

seek real answers that will help you fight!

i really don't want to get kicked out.

i really don't want to be the guy who dies in the first ten minutes of the movie because he's like 'you know what? let's take out the ouija board. what could possibly go wrong?'

i'm obviously coming with you.

great, well. that makes me feel a whole less nervous.

there's no such thing as safe magic. you should know that.

might as well take a risk.

did you think that i came here because i just love magic so much?

i got that you guys need some extra hands or something.

let us know if shit gets exciting.

so what is this place exactly, besides a health hazard?

you ask a lot of questions.

i'm waiting for something interesting to happen.

now, it is so well stocked, it's like the end of the rainbow.

i know we're not supposed to fire off battle magic, but... i mean, come on.

we live in a world that is one world among many.

we do not know the exact nature of this entity, only that it is powerful and malevolent.

jesus, you didn't tell me you were dangerous.

we're stuck, and they're trying to kill us, so--

these people are not murderers. trust me.

there's a bad story every few years around here. i'm not sure that's avoidable.

it's amazing i survived as long as i did not knowing that i was a magician.

he died instantly and i ruined my favourite button-down.

funny little irony they don't tell you -- magic doesn't come from talent. it comes from pain.

so, do you know what it was, the thing that attacked you?

i thought you might be familiar with some pretty crazy shit, since your family...

i just want to be your friend, i guess.

jesus christ, they're gonna kill us. why did i sign up for this?

just let us out.

don't be stupid.

you have to find your way out.

look, if you can't get through this, you definitely can't deal with what it takes to do what we do.

we could not have screwed up that spell worse, and we can't take it back, and --

you should hate me right now.

honestly, growing up, the last thing i wanted to do was read fantasy.

i mean, look, we called something from another world. i don't know, can that really be a coincidence?

don't get caught.

i can't get kicked out.

you don't understand how mind-blowing that is!

i know i don't know you that well, but i know you're not the type to scare easy.

let's just say life wasn't exactly nonstop fun growing up.

why would you leave the only place with experts that might actually be able to help you with this?

if you're guilty, i'm guilty.

this is serious for some of us.

okay, you know what? i'm not interested in your personal issues.

come on, let's go before we freeze our tits off.

i found the most interesting thing buried in our woods.

i know they're your friends.

i can do nothing in this moment to stop the comet from crashing into earth, is there?

word travels fast when your life's over.

who would want to know that magic exists if there's nothing you can do about it... you know, if there's no one to teach you or help you?

you do not have to make me feel better, we -- really, we basically just met each other.

i bond fast. time is an illusion.

how about i find you and seduce you and so lift your spirits and life retains its spark for decades?

i need you to remind me that magic is real.

let's find a way out of this shit hole.

you piece of shit! you ratted me out!

who shot off that spell?!

scissors make a shitty screwdriver, by the way.

i'm done trying to prove myself to you.

you're smart. you're passionate. you question things.

you messed with my head!

how am i supposed to trust you?

why would you ever trust anyone?

i am willing to teach the right people everything i know... and i know a lot, because i have certain connections in certain places.

you want a drink?

hey, have you ever heard of karma? well, sometimes, it's instant.

you're a heartless bitch.

get me everything on this list, this week.

i kind of screwed that up.

you're a much better liar than i expected you to be.

you're not very remarkable.

you're so eager to belong, you even forget why you're here.

i've looked into that beast's eyes.

do you think you have a destiny?

i used to believe that crap too when i was young.

there is no destiny. no born heroes.

learn fast, by any means necessary.

relax, nobody's taking your mind today.

we'll make something of you yet.

don't hop back on the garden path like some little lemming, or i'll erase everything and start you over entirely, for your own good.

everything's connected. don't over-think it.

hope your bits are covered.

i knew he'd come, but i swear i didn't know so soon.

no one is ready. we need more time.

this is all my fault.

this is your problem that you should solve!

join the party, sad sack.

we're so drunk!

[bookandcranny]

Beatrice - Chapter Three

On a table in what she supposed was the dining room there was a floral centerpiece, dead and rotted. Freesias and baby’s breath were shriveled with blight and yet the dead petals remained frozen in place, refusing to fall. Gianna wondered if they’d somehow been preserved that way intentionally. She couldn’t imagine why, ugly as they were.

Soft footsteps padded across the tile behind her, and for a brief moment the anxiety resurfaced, seizing at her throat.

“Gianna?”

She took in a deep breath, letting floral sweetness flood her senses. “It’s me, Bea.”

Gianna was too stubborn to call out of work in the morning, but stubbornness only got her as far as until the gallery manager saw her flagging at her station and urged her to go home. The fumes from the conservators’ delicate chemistry could be dangerous on a good day if you weren’t careful, she reminded her, nevermind if you were already feeling sick. She wasn’t sick, just tired. At least that’s what she was telling herself. Still, she stopped by the drugstore just in case the faint nausea and light-headedness were indeed early signs of some bug.

On impulse, she also picked up some hair bleach and a box of dye. She hadn’t done anything new with her hair since before moving and her brown roots were starting to look more like branches. Normally this wouldn’t have bothered her except, well, for the first time in a long time there was someone she really wanted to look good for. If she was going to ask Beatrice out, first she needed to be in an attractive state of mind.

All her vanity was in vain however; by the time she’d arrived home whatever sickness had grabbed a hold of her was setting in in earnest, leaving Gianna feeling weak and off-kilter. With the last of her strength she managed to force down a couple painkillers along with a cold glass of water before collapsing into bed. 

When she woke up from her addled fever-sleep her skin was clammy and cold. She wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and forced herself to sit up, squinting in the dark of her surroundings. Something had woken her. The sound of that finicky overhead light blowing out after she’d passed out with it still on. Somewhere in between the passing out and now, night had swept over the city, but as was its nature, faint fluorescent light still streamed in from the world outside her window. She hobbled over and pried it open.

Though the breeze made her shiver, it also brought with it the sweetness she’d come to recognize as the combined scents of the Rappaccinis’ garden. The familiar smell revitalized her somewhat. Actually, she felt remarkably improved after just a few short minutes of sitting by the window. Maybe all this was just chemical fumes messing with her head. She’d never had a problem with it before, but she’d been working longer hours lately. That combined with the recent stress, of course it would leave her feeling poorly, she thought. 

Down in Casa di Rappaccini there were lights coming from every window and shadows moving before them. Gianna had never even entertained the idea of the family having company. Dr Rappaccini really didn’t seem like the kind of man to throw a house party in the middle of the week. 

Gianna pushed up the screen and went to climb down to her usual spot. It was only when she was hovering with her hands on the railing and her blanket still slung around her shoulders like a cape that she realized just how bad an idea that was. She was liable to break her neck or worse trying to climb down in the dark with a fever, and Beatrice certainly wouldn’t be gardening at this time of night. She was probably inside, socializing and having fun, impressing their guests with her vast horticultural knowledge and reciting poetry in Latin or something. Though it might get her attention, lurking around outside her party on the fire escape was not the way to get a woman to like you.

She returned to her apartment and to her bed, pulling the pillow over her head as if to guard against any more bizarre dreams. After a time, she managed to drift back into uneasy sleep, while violet eyes kept a watch on her window from below.

In the morning Gianna roused to a concerned call from work, but her groggy reply was more than enough to secure her another sick day. She went back to sleep for another couple hours, woke, forced down some more pills and some leftover stir-fry, slept, and finally woke again feeling not quite recovered, but at least somewhat rested.

She staggered to the bathroom and washed her face. Her skin was oily to the touch and her eyes were bloodshot but otherwise she didn’t look too bad, she thought. Recalling the night before, she went to sit by the window and indeed the fresh air made her feel worlds better. Whatever it was that was slogging through her system, she reasoned, couldn’t be too bad. Probably just some twenty-four hour flu or something.

As she leaned her head out the window she caught sight of Beatrice working in her garden as usual and she was out and shimmying down the ladder before she could remember her decision not to.

“Hey,” she called, her voice still slightly rasped with sleep.

Beatrice looked up and beamed at her, although her smile faltered slightly to see the loose curls plastered to her brow. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Oh, is it that obvious?” she huffed, trying to pinch some life back into her cheeks. “I’ll be alright, just a fever or something.”

“That’s why you weren’t here yesterday. I looked for you.”

Something in Gianna’s gut twisted hotly. “You missed me?”

“Of course I did.” 

It was a much more frank answer than she’d expected, and Gianna felt herself blush. No need to worry about her color after all.

“I was worried, I guess. You were acting sort of strange the day before. I thought I might’ve done something wrong.”

“No way,” she assured. Wow, I really am that obvious. “I was just sleeping this thing off most of the afternoon. I sorta thought you’d be too busy to notice, with the party you were having.”

Beatrice rolled her eyes. “My father was having one of his dinner socials. I couldn’t have gotten away for long either way but believe me, I would pick you over any one of his colleagues in a heartbeat.”

Gianna raised her eyebrows. “Isn’t that kind of thing hard on him? With his health, I mean.”

“He hires people for all the preparations and cleaning up after. Father can’t get out very much because of his condition, so this is how he… connects, I think. Otherwise he wouldn’t talk to anyone at all.”

“We all need to connect I guess.”

She nodded, looking away again. “He has his colleagues bring people for me too. Sons or nephews, you know. Boys he thinks would make a good match for me.”

“Oh. That’s… oh.”

“It’s sort of old fashioned, I know. I don’t really-- I don’t like any of them that way. You’re right though, we all need to connect. I used to think I didn’t need anyone else, but lately…”

Cautiously she met her gaze. Her brows were knit together like she was trying to piece together some puzzle in her mind. Gianna thought she should say something, offer some reassurance, but the image of Dr Rappaccini and his equally decrepit associates presenting her with an array of their eligible legacy offspring turned her stomach so sourly that she had to bite her tongue to keep from spewing something venomous.

Luckily or not, before either of them could speak there came a call from within the house.

“Beatrice, come here, girl!”

Gianna bristled but the young woman only turned and said sweetly, “Coming, Father!” She gave Gianna an apologetic glance and then added in a low voice, “There’s something important I want to talk to you about, but I don’t think I can do it here. Come over tomorrow?”

“You mean… like, in person?”

“Yes! Tomorrow my father is going to be out of the house from two to four o’clock. That doesn’t give us long but it’s the only time I can do it.”

Do what, she wanted to ask, bewildered and enticed all at once. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to just get coffee somewhere?”

“The code for the door is 5214. Meet me here. I promise it’ll be worth your time.” She fidgeted her hands together. Her eyelashes fluttered. “Maybe I can even show you around the garden.”

Something about the way she said that made Gianna suppress a shiver. 

“Of course I’ll be there,” she said. She hated to miss more work than she already had, but she doubted they would suspect anything. Even now her fingers trembled and some of that clamminess was returned to her skin, but oddly enough, she was feeling better than she had all week.

-----

The name placard next to the buzzer read G. Rappaccini. It didn’t sit right with Gianna, the conspicuous absence of the apartment’s other occupant.

Even though she knew she was expected, she felt compelled to announce herself. She pressed the buzzer and after a moment a quiet voice came through the intercom.

“Hello?”

“It’s me,” she said.

“Oh.”

She frowned. “Is that still okay?”

Beatrice let out a sigh. It sounded thin and tinny through the crackle of the speaker.

“Yeah, of course, come on up. Do you remember the code?”

Gianna punched in the numbers and made her way to the apartment. At least this complex had an elevator, saving her the strain of the climb. She was feeling less shaky but at the expense of her appetite which had vanished and made her wary of taking on too much additional strain. Her heart was pounding as it was, watching the floor numbers slowly tick by and thinking about how soon the two of them would be in the same room for the first time. 

Beatrice had never been too eager to meet up with Gianna outside their customary rendezvous, which Gianna had always attributed to her not wanting to leave her father alone for too long. She’d never analyzed her motivations too closely because doing so would mean having to take a serious look at her own.

The truth was, Gianna was scared. This thing she had with Beatrice was different than any relationship she’d had before, for reasons she couldn’t confidently place, and she was afraid that somehow breaking out of the pattern they’d established between them would change things, would tarnish the magic of it somehow.

Too close now to turn back, she stepped into the apartment. Right away the high ceilings and lavish spaciousness inspired a pang of envy. The furniture was antique, yet in pristine condition, everything so clean and crisp that it looked like something out of a catalogue. Not exactly homey. There were several signs of life however: books piled up on an end table in the living room, dishes drying in a rack by the kitchen sink, a stack of empty boxes piled up next to the garbage can. 

There was no TV or telephone, though she supposed that wasn’t so uncommon anymore. But paired with the furniture and the sterile environment it gave Gianna the feeling of being cut off from the modern world entirely. The very idea was stifling to her.

On a table in what she supposed was the dining room there was a floral centerpiece, dead and rotted. Freesias and baby’s breath were shriveled with blight and yet the dead petals remained frozen in place, refusing to fall. Gianna wondered if they’d somehow been preserved that way intentionally. She couldn’t imagine why, ugly as they were.

Soft footsteps padded across the tile behind her, and for a brief moment the anxiety resurfaced, seizing at her throat. 

“Gianna?”

She took in a deep breath, letting floral sweetness flood her senses. “It’s me, Bea.”

Beatrice looked different. Most notably because she was wearing canvas coveralls that seemed to be too big for her, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows to make room for a thick pair of gloves. For all the times she’d watched her working in her garden, Gianna had never seen Beatrice actually dress like a gardener. It made her feel a little silly for dressing up herself. She’d, perhaps optimistically, assumed that the first time they met face to face without the span of the alleyway between them would be a special occasion worth dressing up for. Maybe Beatrice didn’t see it that way.

“Are you still feeling sick?” Beatrice asked. “You don’t look so good.”

Gianna forced a grin. “Don’t worry about that. I’m just happy to be here.”

“Here, sit,” she beckoned. “I wasn’t even thinking. I’ll make you some tea.”

“That’s okay, really. I’m not much of a tea person.”

“You’ll like this tea, trust me.”

Gianna found she didn’t have the energy to protest and soon she was sitting in the kitchen holding a steaming mug. It was far from her drink of choice, especially in the summer months, but she gave in and took a sip for politeness’ sake. 

It was good. More than good, it was delicious! As soon as it was cooled enough she drained half the cup in one go. Almost as soon as she had, she found herself feeling better. Her headache was gone and nausea abated. In fact, she was starting to feel hungry.

“Good, right?” Beatrice smirked. As if she had read her mind, she fished out a box of cookies from the cupboard and slid them across the counter to her. “It’s a family recipe, made with herbs from the garden. Everything that grows there is medicinal. You just have to know how to handle them.”

“That’s incredible,” she said between bites. Now that her appetite was finally back it seemed to be making up for lost time.

Beatrice flustered prettily. “It’s not hard when you get to know the plants like I have. The garden was my father’s before it was mine, we grew up together.”

“So the flowers are kind of like your siblings,” Gianna joked.

She beamed. “Exactly like that. Drink your tea. You have to drink all of it for it to really work.”

Gianna did so.

“I know I didn’t say it before,” Beatrice murmured. “But I’m really glad you’re here too. To see you, really really see you, I can’t… there aren’t words, Gianna. It probably sounds crazy but sometimes, when I couldn’t see you, when I couldn’t speak to you, I started to worry you’d disappeared and I would never find you again. Sometimes I even worried you were never real at all. That’s why I… I was afraid to invite you over here. I was afraid to break the illusion, to lose you.”

She stared, speechless, her mouth gone dry. 

“I know how that sounds, I just-- for so long my world has revolved around taking care of father. I didn’t think I could have this, didn’t think I’d even want this. Not as much as I do, at least.”

“Beatrice,” she whispered breathlessly. “I know how you feel.” She reached across the countertop to touch her gloved hand. “I know what it’s like to want something and feel like you shouldn’t. I know what it feels like to be stuck in the shadow of parents who don’t understand you. I promise, you’re not crazy, and you’re not alone.”

The girl made a wounded noise, half gasp and half whimper, and clamped a hand over her face. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what--”

“It’s okay.” She threaded their fingers together. “It’s okay.”

Beatrice shook her head. “Gianna, I have to tell you something. Something important. Before we get in too deep or you hear it from someone else, I want you to hear it from me. I’m not normal.”

“I know, you’re not like anyone I’ve ever met.”

“No!” she cried, frustrated. “I’m not--”

The door creaked open and she spun around, pulling her hand away. Standing in the doorway was the hunched form of Dr Giacoma Rappaccini himself.

“Ah, good,” came the rasping voice of the elderly doctor. “You made the tea. I trust you’re feeling better now, Ms Alexander.”

Gianna tensed, unsure of how to respond.

“Father, you’re home early!” Beatrice chirped with false cheer. “I’ll make you a cup too then.”

“No need,” he said with a dismissive wave of his leathered hand. He set down his bag and shut the door behind him. “I had some this morning, remember? Ah, you might’ve been out in the garden then. You have been busy today.”

She shrunk back under the weight of his stare.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, sir,” Gianna said stiffly with a hand outstretched. “I’m--”

“I know who you are.” His laugh was the sound of dry reeds in a breeze. “Gianna Alexander. I’ve been keeping an eye on you ever since you started to show an interest in my daughter. I was curious to see how things might progress between you two, but considering the circumstances I decided it might be time to intervene.”

“Father--”

“Beatrice,” he reproached. “Going behind my back? Making secret meetings? You know better than that. Apologize to our guest.”

After only a moment’s hesitation she turned to Gianna and said, “I’m so sorry, Ms Alexander.”

Gianna balked. “What? You don’t have anything to apologize for.”

“I’m afraid that’s where you’re mistaken,” said Dr Rappaccini. “You see, there are proper steps to be taken in situations like this. My daughter should’ve spoken with me so I could arrange a proper interview. We could’ve had dinner. It would’ve been so nice.

“Instead, I had to find out what you were doing and pretend to leave my own home unawares just to get us all in a room together. I’m getting too old to play these games with you, Beatrice. It’s disrespectful to me and it’s disrespectful to our guest.”

“I’m sorry, Father.” Her voice had become empty, almost robotic, and she cast her eyes to the ground. Gianna felt a dawning sense of dread at the sight.

“Now then,” The old man pulled up a chair and sat with his hands folded over his lap. “Shall we get down to business? Beatrice, as you know, is a very special girl. In fact she’s the product of years and millions of dollars of research. 

“I’ve dedicated my life to studying the medicinal properties of plants and cross-breeding exotic species to develop into natural pharmaceuticals. Eventually I realized that no amount of remedies I could create in my lifetime would be enough to fix every inherent flaw of humanity, so I shifted my focus. Instead of searching for the perfect cure, I decided to create the perfect human being, one immune to mankind’s deficiencies. From my experience with altering and combining the genetic structures of various plants, I crafted a new, superior breed of human. Beatrice is the product of those tireless efforts.”

Gianna’s head was swimming. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Dr Rappaccini smiled ruefully. “I’ve long accepted that I likely won’t live to see my quest come to fruition. It took trial upon trial just to bring Beatrice into the world, and she’s only the first step. More accurately, the first generation.”

He put his hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “Someday, my Beatrice will be the mother to a brand new species, a new humanity. With their drastically increased lifespans, immunity to disease and disorder of the body and mind, and overall genealogical superiority, my creations will rapidly become the dominant species on earth, replacing the feeble excuse for intelligent life that exists now. And, well, with all that revealed, it’s obvious why I couldn’t let this little game of yours continue, isn’t it?”

He looked at Beatrice with an expression that was as a mockery of compassion.

“Socialization is fine, even healthy. I don’t blame you for that. It’s my own fault really, for not providing you with more enrichment and opportunities for companionship here at home. I’ll be more mindful of that going forward. In fact, if you want to continue these little play-dates I am in full support, as long as they’re supervised from here on out. Not for a while though, of course. That’s just what happens when you break the rules, my girl.”

Gianna stood up, slamming her hands down on the counter. “Are you completely insane? This is a person, your daughter, not a pure-bred show poodle!”

Dr Rappaccini spoke to her calmly, a faint amusement in his wrinkled features. “I don’t blame you for your anger, Ms Alexander, because I know it stems from ignorance. Beatrice is special but she also has a volatile, toxic nature the likes of which you can’t comprehend. She needs a guiding hand to help her control herself and make the right choice. Isn’t that right, Beatrice.”

“Yes, Father.”

Gianna stared at her friend in horrified awe. “Beatrice, you can’t possibly be okay with this.”

She didn’t move, she didn’t speak. She gave no indication she’d even heard her. It was as if she had been hollowed out, only the fragile husk of her remaining.

“You can throw as big a fit as you want,” Dr Rappaccini said snidely. “But as long as you are a guest in my home I have to insist you abide by my rules.”

Gianna glowered. She spared one last furtive glance towards Beatrice. Her chest ached. “Then I guess I’m leaving.”

--

next chapter

[jamiedc-they-them]

Ye who held too much faith (Platonic)

welp hi again, can i request daenerys x brother!reader (or sibling if ur not comfortable writing for male reader) where r gets injured and dany takes care of him. whether he wakes up i leave it up to you

AN/ Thank you! I’m glad you enjoy my writing :D Hope you enjoy!

There had been attempts on your life before. In fact, there had been multiple attempts on both of your lives during your journey together to cross the sea to take what was rightfully your own. The Iron Throne.

For Danny, her main goal was to seize the throne, but the other was to have you survive this war and be an adviser to her. As much as she knew that some families had incestuous tendencies (She was informed about them via Jorah) she broke that cycle when you were born. You were the youngest out of the siblings, thus making her more protective of you.

That’s what made this worse, that you had been hurt because of her mission to grab something to make you both feel more secure.

She had always been the protector, ever since your elder brother struck you, she did all she could to help you through those traumas. To help you feel a little bit safe, even if it meant that he turned his sights on her. It would’ve been worth it, as you would’ve been safe.

Now, here you laid, on the bed with a ghostly white colour to your skin. You looked dead, and maybe you were –

No, she couldn’t think like that, she couldn’t afford to.

You needed to be ok, you had to be. There was no other option; no other way this thing could go, really.

She wouldn’t let it.

“Have you slept yet, my queen?” Tyrion asked as he approached both of you, keeping his eyes on your sister as he spoke. He was clearly worried for her mental health; he knew that she wouldn’t be able to take much more of this. She seemed to just be losing people left and right.

Now it had really gotten personal with you.

You had to be ok, she didn’t care how it happened, you just had to be.

But, first, you had to wake up. You had to open your eyes and prove to the world that you were in fact alive.

 “I’m fine.” She said, though neither in the room believe it. Both could hear the quiver in her voice as she said those false words.

“Y/N might not –”

“Y/N will be fine.” She said, firmly, as if the other option didn’t exist. As said above, she wouldn’t let that version come into existence.

“He might not be.” He warned her, but it fell on death ears.

“He has to be…. He’ll make it, I’m sure of it.” She said, determined to make those words come true.

“As much as I believe in you and your cause, faith can sometimes go misplaced in anything or anyone.” He told her.

That did not get the reaction that he wanted to garner from those words, “Is that a threat?” She asked; as much as she had started to se him as friend, she was still weary of him and whether or not she should let him in.

Still, he was here; no one else had shown up, yet. No one had even asked her that question, yet. But he had. So, that meant something.

“For once, it won’t be.” She said.

The next moment, your hand that she had been holding tighten it’s held a little. It got her attention and stopped the conversation from continuing between the Queen and the Hand of said Queen.

“Are you alright?” Was the first thing your sister asked you as you opened your eyes; you took a moment to survey the room and realise that you were indeed safe and not in any immediate danger.

You then met the slightly worried eyes of your sister; since the day your brother had hit you, she had never fully ceased with that worry in her gaze. She was always mothering you. Hell, she was more of that than a sister at times.

She was mainly that as she wanted you to feel like you could be you. That you could be happy, even if a little. She just wanted you safe.

You were awake sure, but you still weren’t out of the woods, yet.

“What happened?” You asked her with a croaky voice, she passed you a mug of water; one you drank from in a rush, desperate to get yourself back up and ready to go as quickly as you could do.

“I- I, uhm…” She wasn’t sure if you even should know how you ended up like this. She had it all prepared beforehand; her lines rehearsed to a T; but that had all gone out the window the second you had opened your eyes. All she was going on now was instinct, both sisterly and motherly, to make sure that you were ok and see if she could help you in any way.

This was not one of those ways in her book.

“Danny,” She looked into your eyes again, “Please, I just want to know what happened. That’s all.” You told her softly, in an honest tone.

She sighed, knowing that she would only be making things worse if she didn’t tell you.

“Do you need me to fetch the –” Tyrion was about to finish his offer, when Daenerys answered.

“No, I’ll be fine on my own.” Her own voice was soft, she didn’t break eye contact with you. When you heard the door close, Daenerys sat on your bed and grabbed the bandage that the maester had left beforehand.

“Ok.” She said, as she begun to painfully recount what had happened to you.

 “Danny –” You said as you tried to beg your sister to let you go out to try and quell the seemingly endless amount of anarchy reigning outside. She, however, would not budge.

“No, Y/N! For the last time, I’m not letting you go out there, you’re safer here!” You sighed, knowing she was right. But that didn’t mean anything if there were still people dying.

Daenerys secretly hated that part of you, the part that was this selfless; granted, she had it too, just to a much lesser degree. Still, she knew that the fire of a dragon was deadly and rarely could be stopped. She knew that giving you the answer she gave wasn’t helping you; if anything, it was making you more and more impatient and more and more cause to want to go out and fight.

Still, that part of her soon died when the protective part of her overruled that thought.

“You are to stay, Y/N. I need you by my side…. What if you get hurt – what if you – I can’t…I can’t do this alone.” She said, letting her emotions take control now; let her worry be fully known to you. She couldn’t lose the advice you gave her; the way you could read her like a book and vice versa; but, most of all, she couldn’t lose her best friend and only surviving family member she could actually talk and communicate with.

She couldn’t go across the sea and have you not been there, it would feel hollow in doing so. She was waging this war for the both of you, after all. If you died, it would feel like this victory wouldn’t fully be earned.

“Danny,” You said softly as you grabbed her hands in your own, she squeezed them softly, “I…. I’ll stay, if that’s what you want. I’ll stay.” You promised you, even gave her a smile to try and sell it more.

She hugged you tightly, you returned the gesture, “Thank you, little brother.” She said as she then pulled away, planting a kiss on your head, before leaving to try and take back control of her currently burning city.

You let out an attempt of a calming breath as your sister turned the corner before exiting to your chambers. You had indeed done what she had asked, you just weren’t going to stay.

You also hoped that this wouldn’t backfire horribly.

 “How do you know I did that?” You asked Danny as she gently took off your old bandage and replaced it with a new one. Despite not being a maester, she was doing a decent job so far. She hadn’t caused you anymore pain and was quite calm. Externally that was, internally she was worried at making even the slightest mistake and hurting you.

“It was Grey Worm’s best summary of how you got out. No one else saw you; you aren’t as sneaky as you might think you are, sometimes.” She said in a teasing voice that then saddened when she remembered where those actions that got you.

“Oh…”

 The buildings were burning, and the streets were either filled with screaming people or the attackers in the city. You were in the midst of all that, of course; really, you hadn’t fully had a plan set out, mainly it was just go down and fight in any way you could.

You were capable of fighting, just not as well as these people were. You weren’t trained since birth, you weren’t forced to train every day, almost all day.

You were trained for a few hours to around a full day a week before you’d go back to supporting your sister.

So, in short, you were fucked.

You saw one civilian being attacked, and instantly ran over; the attacker swung at you, you ducked and tried to hit him; he, however, dodged and sliced you in the arm.

You sneered as you pulled a dagger and tried once again to attack the person, however, he blocked and punched you.

That was when the blade came down again.

“Why did you do it?” She asked as she wrapped the final new bandage; she did feel a bit stupid having now asked it, as she knew the answer, but she wanted to know your reasoning for it.

“You saved the city your way, I wanted to save it –” You stopped talking as you let out a gasp; Daenerys was set on edge, scared she had done something wrong; however, when your eyes started to show more blood in the corners, she knew it wasn’t her fault.

It was a poison instead.

“Y/N…? Y/N!” She cried out as she held your figure as it started to convulse erratically.

“Maester!” She yelled, hating to leave you, but having to find some help for you.

To make sure that you’d survive.

 The assassin must’ve thought you dead, as they had walked away the next moment. You weren’t, however, gone. But you had failed in your job to protect the woman, her dead and cold eyes stared back at you.

You were bleeding badly; you could almost feel the blood leaving your body. You managed to turn yourself over, only to see smoke still rising from one of the houses. There were still screams, but they were less in mass and fainter; whether that be further away, or you were losing consciousness or that one side was winning.

Only thing was, you didn’t know which one it was.

You turned to your side, placing a hand on the floor, your hand had patches of blood on it dotted around; you placed your second hand, seeing the same thing, only your left one held a lot more blood. That was most likely the hand that was on your now worse wound. You were sure it was probably infected by now.

 “How is he?” Daenerys asked nervously as she paced in the room, the Maester put a rag to your head to try and help with the sweating that had occurred moments after she left, it only made you shiver more however.

“It’s not just poison, my queen,” He told her gravely, “The wound was infected as well from dirt and other objects. Look here,” He pointed to your wound, “Someone had tried to cauterize it; however, they didn’t have much time or a clean instrument to use.” Danny gulped; the odds weren’t exactly in your favour for survival.

She was now allowing herself to panic, this could be your deathbed. This could be it, the moment it all fell apart.

 You fell into a crawl as your wound bled more and more. You groaned as you put your hand that had been scrapping through dirt to it, ignoring what that would do to you and your already agitated wound.

You slowly got back up, stumbling forward towards your palace in an attempt to get back to your room and find a way to patch yourself up without your sister finding you and worrying about you.

That was the last thing you wanted.

Your convulsions had stopped, but your sweating and groaning in pain had not ceased. Daenerys wished there was something she could do. However, in reality, the only thing she could do was hope and pray that the Maester would heal you and this would all be over. She could admonish you and then you both would move on.

Part of her knew, however, that neither of you would be the same after this. No matter what the outcome was. Even thought she hoped for the positive one (as any sister would), she knew that it would hold a lot of questions and doubt in the coming days/months/years until you both would reach your goal.

You reached the door, bloody hand pressing against it, it didn’t take much pressure to open it. Once it did, you pretty much fell inside, letting out another groan as you hit the floor in pain.

Someone reached you, your eyes opened to see Missandei hovering above you worriedly. She was speaking, but those words were lost on you as you felt yourself fading.

When you opened your eyes again to a blurry world, you saw the recognisable clothes of Dany kneeling next to you; you felt the faint touch of her hand as her own words were inaudible to you. But you were sure they were begging you to stay awake and not to leave her.

You closed your eyes one more time. This time not reopening for a while.

 She was outside of the room now, standing outside the door and nervously playing with her fingers. She didn’t have anything to say or do other than to stay silent and wait anxiously for the Maester to walk out of the room.

Finally, they did, but the grim look on their face told Danny all she needed to know.

You were gone.

 Daenerys had cried before over loss; she had cried before over pain. She had never done it over both at the same time, however. This felt like knives stabbing her heart over and over again without pause or an end in sight.

You were gone; her brother and her best friend in the whole world was gone. She was alone now, truly alone; the last of the Targaryen’s and left to carry the burden of being one alone.

She, however, looked out at the view of the city. Of the city you had died for, of the city you had helped her take just like the rest of them.

She let out a breath as she rose from her bed and went out onto the balcony, already missing how you would sometimes rest next to her and talk about your day or your plans for the future.

That would never happen again.

 “Fetch the Maester!” She yelled at anyone who would listen, Missandei was the one who followed through with it and left to get one. She, however, carried your body in her arms and burst into your room, placing your body on the bed.

“Please, Y/N; please, please, please, please. Don’t leave me, not yet. There’s so much we need to do. There’s so much I have to show you.”

 It was an empty promise now. There was, however, one more she could follow through.

That being to take back the kingdoms in your name.

 That fateful day led to a snowball affect: when she left to Winterfell, she was immediately outcasted, having you there would’ve helped calm that, helped her feel less alone; the next was the loss of two of her children, that loss made her fall further away from friends; then, finally, was the death of Missandei, her other best friend and a sister to you both.

It was what made her burn Kings Landing almost entirely to the ground, it was what led to her walking to the throne in a vision she had forgotten about long ago. She did it all in your name; all to make your death mean something.

It ended, however, with a dagger in the heart. As she slipped from this world to whatever came next. Her last thought, however, was of you; when she was an innocent but scared girl, and you were a damaged but happy child.

Those were simpler times, times when you could just be two siblings.

Now, you were both gone; if there was a world after this one, you’d meet there.

She’d make sure of it.

[kingreywrites]

Trust fall

Words count: 2731

Eugene Appreciation Day Six: Team Awesome

Summary: What if Eugene saw Varian fall in Cassandra's Revenge?

Read on ao3

@fishskiin

Eugene realised that, as much as he thought he was angry with Cassandra, he wasn't really furious until he saw Varian hanging over the air in a cage of black rocks. He had been sad, because Cassandra was his friend and she betrayed them; he had been frustrated, because she kept hurting Rapunzel, who had her flaws, but nothing that couldn't be solved with a discussion; he was concerned, for his friends and for Corona, concerned at what she would be willing to do.

Then, she kidnapped Varian and put him in a cage high above the ground, and he felt furious.

Varian, for his part, was scared but more focused on the last incantation than on himself, letting Eugene do all the worrying about the empty space under them, and how easily Cassandra could let them fall. When the rocks started retreating, Eugene had half a mind to curse - until Varian called his name fearfully, and he realised there were more important things. He took the kid's hand in his, squeezing it tightly and hoping he would understand that Eugene intended to defend him against Cassandra if need to be.

Well, except that she squeezed him between black rocks, and he was helpless to do anything but glare at her. She was using him to pressure Rapunzel into fighting and Eugene hated it, but when he tried to talk, the rocks squeezed tighter, and he lost his breath with a groan.

The next part was a little blurry. Or, more exactly, a little too bright for Eugene to follow. Rapunzel was shining and floating and exuding power like a goddess and, once Eugene's heart stopped beating so loud with anxiety, he would be awed by her beauty. She was fighting Cassandra, who was also glowing because nothing could ever be easy in their lives, and Eugene still struggled to breath, both because of the rocks and the sheer energy he was faced with. Some part of his brain told him he was also cursed with the "birthday should involve a near death experience" special, and he would have laughed if it wasn't his friends being in danger too.

Then, Rapunzel and Cassandra clashed together and the energy was enough to break the black rocks surrounding him, and push him away a few feet. He was fighting the strong gusts of wind when he heard a cry from behind him, and turned just soon enough to see Varian being pushed over the edge.

Eugene thought he screamed but he wasn't sure - there was too much noise all around and blood was rushing to his ears.

He scrambled after him, the wind pushing him harshly to his knees midway - but he got up again, he ignored the pain in his bones and rose up because he needed to see- needed to go and try to fix this, even if it already felt like he was too late because Varian fell and they were so high up the ground-

Eugene stumbled again near the edge and crawled the few inches left, his head sticking out over the staggering height. He felt sick, Varian's cry of terror like a twisted knife in his body - and Eugene knew something about those.

It felt like a dream, then, when he saw the tiny figures right under him - first a recognisable red-head, Catalina, then Angry right at her side, Lance and… Varian, in Lance's arms. It took several more seconds before Eugene managed to breathe again, laughing nervously as he was overwhelmed with relief. He closed his eyes and thought numbly that they had been lucky, so so lucky, but his body was still thrumming with anxiety and fear.

The energy of the sundrop and the moonstone disappeared and Eugene got shakily to his feet, running to the second focus of his worry: Rapunzel. He joked that she had been awesome, and she was too exhausted and wrung out to see that his smile wasn't quite reaching his eyes - which was good since Varian didn't seem to know that Eugene had saw him go over the edge.

Everyone was acting normal, so Eugene bottled up the terror he couldn't quite shake, and they went home.

------

"Hey Varian, are you- oh my god get down from here are you crazy?!"

"Hi Eugene!" Varian greeted brightly, ignoring the unmanly screech as he balanced himself precariously on a ladder, trying to reach the highest part of his new contraption. "You'll never guess what this do!"

"Varian-"

"I mean, I know I wouldn't have guessed, considering that this is beyond what currently exist, but I'm also the creator so nothing is impossible for me-"

"Kid-"

"Well some things are, impossible that is, but not this and once I tell you what this is I think you'll be pretty amazed that-"

"Varian!" Eugene's voice was loud enough to interrupt the alchemist's excited ramblings, something dark and scared hiding in his tone. Varian looked down at his friend, the other half of team awesome, and noticed that Eugene was white as a sheet. "I- Varian, please, can you get down from here?"

It was supposed to be a request but sounded so much like begging that Varian complied immediately, sliding down the ladders in barely three seconds. Eugene seemed ready to protest, but sighed instead, his shoulders sagging as he put his hand through his hair. Going by said hair, more precisely its disheveled state, something was seriously wrong with Eugene.

"Are you alright, Eugene?" Varian asked, biting his lips.

"Who, me?" Eugene laughed, the sound too high pitched to be genuine. "Pff, yeah I'm fiiine, always am! Anyway, uh, I have to- to- brush my hair, so see ya!"

And just like that, he was gone, without even asking what he came here for. Varian blinked at the half-opened door worriedly, rubbing his own arm as Ruddiger settled around his neck to comfort him. Since the events with Cassandra, Eugene had been downright weird - always insisting on safety measures, and stopping Varian from doing anything that could result in even a papercut as long as he was in the room. At first, Varian basked in the new found attention; then he was frustrated by Eugene's overwhelming protectiveness, because he wasn't a little kid; but now, he was only confused and concerned about his friend's state of mind.

That was the first time Varian tried to confront him outright, but it had resulted in exactly what he feared: avoidance. He would have worried that Eugene was angry with him, if the man wasn't trying to protect him from every little bruise and cut. His health in general seemed to be the centre of Eugene's concerns, these days, as the man also lectured him on good eating and sleeping habits.

Though, going by the dark circles under Eugene's eyes, that was irony at its finest.

Varian grimaced, looking up to his ladder but abandoning this project for a while, not in the mood anymore. He gathered his tools and tried to think back at what could have provoked this shift, why Eugene wouldn't trust him with his safety anymore, when it hit him.

Trust.

Since Varian had been kidnapped, Eugene lost his trust in him being able to take care of himself correctly. Upset at the thought, Varian frowned, before coming to a conclusion: he had to gain that trust back. He had to show Eugene that he shouldn't worry.

Easier said than done.

------

Eugene knew that he couldn't keep this up forever, couldn't avoid Varian forever, and he already felt guilty enough about it. However, he also knew that he needed to get a grip on himself - he could hear how overbearing he was being with the kid and, despite cringing internally at his own behaviour, he couldn't stop himself from interrupting each time there was the slightest sign of danger. His mind kept flashing back to that day, at the top of that damn tower - different but identical in the way that mattered, because he nearly lost another person dear to him in there.

Eugene looked at Varian now, and could only hear his desperate cry for help as he tumbled over the edge. Eugene looked at Varian, looked at the things that could harm him, and his heart started to beat so loudly he wondered if anyone could hear it except him, wondered if anyone could see the trembling of his own hands. So Eugene intervened, because the worst thing that could happen was being too late again when he could have done something - luck wouldn't always be on their side.

That also meant he was being an horrible and controlling friend. Which is why he avoided Varian, which in return made him an even worse friend - vicious circles were like that. 

Seeing Varian up on that ladder a week ago made his whole body tense in panic so quickly that it was a wonder Eugene managed to flee - and, after that, it took a very long time for him to be able to breathe normally again. And Eugene knew, he was certain he couldn't impose his own problems on the kid because Varian didn't deserve that - he'd have to deal with his issues first, and everything could come back to normal, and they would be team awesome again.

For the time being, though, he was an horrible friend.

Eugene groaned and buried his face on his pillow. He had to shake off the fear that gripped his gut when he thought back on the few seconds when he thought he would find Varian's sprawled body when he looked down - had to shake off the terror of thinking that this kid, his friend, had died in the middle of a conflict he had no business with, and tha5 Eugene had been useless to save him. Easy, right?

A knock interrupted his swirling thoughts and he frowned. It wasn't late exactly, but Eugene was pretty sure he had nothing planned for this evening, and he was also pretty sure that Rapunzel had other duties to attend, so it couldn't be her. He got up and-

"Hello Eugene!" Varian chirped excitedly, pushing back his goggles in his hair. "Got ten minutes or so?"

"Varian?" Eugene yelped, before he plastered an anxious smile on his face. "I, uh, I'd like too but-"

"I checked with the Princess, your schedule is clear for the evening," the alchemist singsonged without losing a beat.

Varian took Eugene's sleeve and tugged him out of his room without leaving him the time to protest, leading him toward the guards training area. Eugene could only gap at the multiple installations that were clearly not here earlier, and who looked like something you could find in the challenge of the brave. Hardcore version.

"I present you," Varian announced with a dramatic flair Eugene could only admire, "the TRUST! Or Training Regimen to be Used Safely and Tactically, as you wish!"

"What?" Eugene asked dumbly, taking in the spiky ball hung mid-air on a pendulum, or the obviously unsafe axe-throwing area or-

"Well, I noticed you've been very protective of me recently, and I think I know why." Varian nodded at his own words, ignoring the contrived stare Eugene gave him. "This is my way to show you that, even if Cassandra did kidnap me, it doesn't mean that I can't take care of myself!"

"Varian, that's not-"

"I don't blame you, don't worry!" Varian smiled weakly, self-conscious. "I mean, I guess I can understand that you would think I constantly need help, my life is rhythmed by disasters, but you don't need to worry constantly about me and I'll prove it to you right now!"

Varian made his way to the TRUST and pushed a lever Eugene hadn't seen, making all the different obstacles move in a very creative fashion, certainly, but also terribly dangerous. Eugene picked up his jaw from the ground before grabbing the kid's arm and stopping him as he made his way to the spiky pendulum, swaying from right to left quickly.

"Varian you don't need to do that," Eugene pleaded, guilt churning in his stomach.

"Of course I do!" Varian answered angrily, tearing his arm from the hold and backing off toward the contraption without looking. "You don't trust me anymore Eugene and this, this is my way to regain your trust. I- We can't be team awesome if you don't think I'm good enough to protect myself!"

"It's not that," Eugene insisted, "not at all Varian! It's not that I don't trust you, it's that I… I…" he stuttered, feeling his throat dry up as the dreaded images popped back in his head.

Varian took another step back, hurt, and Eugene knew he was fucking this all up but the words wouldn't come to him. Then, he saw the pendulum come their way and realised that Varian had backed off way too much - he didn't even scream his name, instead throwing himself on the kid and making both of them tumble on the ground, to safety. Well, more or less, going by the stinging pain in Eugene's arm - a glance told him that a spike had come too close for comfort.

"Oh god I'm sorry!" Varian exclaimed fearfully, grabbing at Eugene's arm before searching frantically in the bag he carried. "Wait, there's got to be bandages here, I'm sure-"

"Hey, kid, it's okay," Eugene reassured gently, both of them still sitting down on the ground as the could hear the swishing noise the pendulum made behind them. "It's only a graze."

"Yeah, a graze cause by one of my inventions! Again!" Varian's voice broke, and he lowered his eyes, his hair falling in front of his eyes. "Maybe you're right not to trust me," he mumbled, "everything I build ends up hurting the wrong people…"

"Varian," Eugene called firmly, his hand going under the kid's chin and raising his head, "I trust you. Actually, I trust you a lot more than most people, and your inventions may cause problems, but they also constantly help us. They're brilliant, kid."

Seeing the alchemist unconvinced and sad look made Eugene sigh, his free hand tightening against his own leg.

"You remember the mess with Cassandra at the tower, right?" Eugene asked, as if Varian could have forgot - even waiting until the kid nodded, nonplussed. "You… fell, off the tower."

"Yeah," Varian nodded quietly, the memory an unpleasant recurring guest in his nightmares, "Lance was there to catch me, though, I told you."

"You told me," Eugene assented quietly, "but I already knew, because I saw you fall."

Varian's eyes widened as he opened his mouth, before closing it with an audible snap. Eugene's eyes were looking at him, but they seemed glazed over, far away from the situation. His hands were trembling.

"I saw you go over the edge and… I thought-" Eugene trailed off, his voice too quiet to continue, before Varian sneaked his hand to take his. "It took me nearly twenty seconds to get to the edge and, for every of them, I was sure I would find you- find you dead. And I know I've been overbearing recently but- I can't get this fear out of my heart. I'm sorry, Varian," Eugene offered earnestly, "I know that I need to get over this but… I don't know what I'll do if something happened to you."

Varian hugged Eugene tightly right when he finished the story, his goggles digging painfully in Eugene's cheek.

"Thank you," Varian whispered, "for caring about me."

"Of course I do," Eugene whispered too, his arms settling around the kid's back. "You're one of my closest friend. Team awesome, am I right?"

"Team awesome!" Varian yelled in answer, nearly deafening Eugene for a moment as he jumped back to his feet. The kid paused, before proposing shyly: "Let's make a deal: I swear to do my most dangerous activities with someone to help supervise the experiment, if you swear you can accept that I am competent enough to do most things alone."

"Sounds good to me," Eugene grinned, happy that they made progress today - once they escaped the training equipment from hell.

He didn't think everything was fixed - didn't think he could stop being afraid for Varian so suddenly - but it was a first step in the right direction. As long as they were team awesome, they could surpass any obstacle.

[butterflyinthewell]

Dad took some steps today. He needed the therapist right there because he was so off balance that he would’ve fallen without support along with his walker. One of his feet is curling sideways and inward because he hasn’t been putting weight on his feet. That will be a problem and he may need a brace to straighten that out. It’s related to the whole “don’t use it and you lose it” aspect of Parkinson’s disease, and I was afraid of this.

I hope he gets to walk again as much as he could before because he will be stuck in one room for the rest of his life if he doesn’t. I think that’s the one incentive that makes him want to get back on his feet. My fear is he will then proceed to get up at night like he was doing when he got hurt in the first place. He still keeps mom awake till 3 and 4am because she’s a people pleaser who will give until she’s dead. Black hole people like my dad love finding bleeding hearts like my mom.

I’ve told mom to just put her foot down and go to bed, but I stayed up once to see what really happens. Dad whines and complains if mom says she’s going to bed. Suddenly he will want to be put on his bedside commode (which takes forever and then you wait for him to go and heave him back into bed), or he will want a sandwich or just anything that makes mom have to be busy on his behalf until she’s wide awake again when she was sleepy enough for bed before.

Just...AUGH...every good thing always comes with shit right behind it.

I think I’m going to ask my counselor or psychiatrist if there’s a way to screen for ptsd. My mental health is in the toilet and I’m having bizarre dreams and nightmares several times a week. My sleep is disrupted now, and that’s never been a thing for me. I’m constantly hyper vigilant. I’m having anger outbursts and the kinds of thoughts that intrude upon my mind are horrible.

If something happens to mom, I am helpless in all the issues that matter. Food, I can figure out, but I’m worse than useless for everything else. I cannot move dad to his commode or wheelchair, and he needs some support to move onto them. I’m too small, he outweighs me by over 100 pounds.

Most of my bad dreams are things happening to my mom, or there’s word that something happened and I can’t get any info on if she’s okay or not. Another kind I have is I’ve contracted COVID, or someone who comes in to see us has it and spreads it, and I’m the only survivor. Other dreams are the body horror type where I amputate my own body parts with a saw and hand them to people because I feel useless. I had one recently where I literally ran up to Hannibal Lecter with a knife and fork and told him to eat me, but he took the silverware away and wouldn’t do it because “no, you’re not rude.” I said I was, but he wouldn’t do it. I was so angry! I was angry about that dream all day!

I don’t believe I deserve anything good and I don’t see myself as a good person. I don’t deserve help.

I’m scared a lot. Just...I can be sitting here watching a cute kitten video on YouTube or eating dinner and get hit with a wave of fear.

None of this is how my mind usually works. I’ve never been in mortal danger(recently), but I’ve had my routines and life disrupted to such severe degrees that I feel like I’ve lost control of my life, and to me that’s almost the same thing as dying. I’m autistic, and autistic people are more prone to trauma from ‘mundane’ things that a neurotypical person wouldn’t flinch at.

I’m just worried the “not life-threatening” aspect will immediately disqualify a diagnosis.

In June 2019, I went into burnout after home health visits for dad threw all my routines away and they’re still getting destroyed by it because they can’t keep a consistent fucking routine.

July that year was my dad getting his DBS batteries replaced. It was sensory hell because I got my period the day of the surgery and spent the whole time nauseated and cramping, but being silent about it...only to get called selfish and horrible for mentioning how bad I felt after we were all home again. (Outpatient surgery)

September 2019, mom’s gallbladder almost blew up and she was rushed to the hospital. I was alone with dad, without warning, and had to function using emergency reserves that I didn’t have because I was in burnout. I ran around terrified that any mistake I made would get me screamed at by both my dad and sister. Mom was out of the house from Friday to Tuesday. Dad did nothing but demand and demand from me and yelled at me for melting down. I was almost out of meds and for awhile didn’t know if or when I would get them. I had to grocery shop with sister’s help and she kept getting upset at me for arranging the cart like mom did, and I ended up forgetting things I needed even though I had a list right in front of my face the whole time. I was that out of it.

An aid had to come bathe dad because mom couldn’t do it for at least six weeks. That happened whenever someone could come, so dinner, my showers and mom’s ability to do things were disrupted by waiting for the call that the aid was coming. Coverage only lasted six weeks and then the help was yanked the second mom was declared fit to lift more than 5 pounds again.

October 2019, our car died and so routines got thrown further out of whack because mom and I had to depend on friends and family for rides to grocery shop or go to church. Trips stopped being at a set time and turned into “whenever someone can drive you” so I was uprooted from my day with little warning, and we didn’t get a new car until early December.

December 2019: We Christmas shopped late because of the car bullshit, mom barely got the cookies baked in time, and it was just a super stressful Christmas season.

I struggled through the death anniversary of my dog because that year he was gone as many years as he had lived and I spent most of it in a disassociated state.

Then mom had her bowel obstruction the day after Christmas and was in the hospital from Friday to Sunday. Yet again she was gone and the routine was blown apart without warning. My sister gave me shit the first time I wore my new ear defenders to the grocery store. Dad did nothing but demand and demand from me when I had nothing. I ruined a dinner that I didn’t know how to cook and went hungry but made him eat leftover ham from Christmas.

January 2020, the COVID shit started on the news.

March 2020, I went to the grocery store with mom and shelves were empty like a nuclear war was coming. I was terrified that I would catch COVID and kill my parents by passing it to them. Church closed. Stores opened for senior hours at butthole o’clock in the morning. Weekend routines were destroyed. Choir practices stopped. More routine disruptions.

August 2020, I started having anniversary distress related to what happened to mom the year before.

Then dad fell and broke his hip. I still clear as day see him in his blue shirt, sitting on the stair chair, being pulled backwards out the front door by paramedics with the ambulance lights flashing red and blue under the midnight sky and white street light.

Late September, as I’m struggling a bit with the anniversary of what happened to mom, worrying about dad getting COVID and beginning to relax because “dad is going to be away till he can walk again...” there comes that phone call from shithole New Orange Hills saying they’re sending him home and we find out they lied to us about every promise they made.

October 2020, dad was brought home and now he’s laying in an electric bed in the family room where mom can hear him if he needs her.

Writing that down has me realizing I’ve been experiencing almost continuous upheavals to my routines. Routines give me a sense of safety, and every time things settle something else throws it all to shit again.

So either I have ptsd or I’m possibly developing it, and I’m scared because this seems so ridiculous compared to the reasons other people get it.