#and its hard to see that under all of the pain and vengeance. but it was all about love | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

inou-ie · 9 months

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Hey I know that you’re still doing that jing liu fic (can’t wait) but if you have the time can I req a Kafka fic? Where she gets all possessive when she sees how close you are with himeko? (You’re apart of the astral crew express) she just then rams her cck non-stop (breeding) into you in your room where everyone can hear. Thank you so much!!

I just miss her so much already ☹️

Get wrecked, anon.

MDNI

The moment you stepped into your room, you were met with the sight of Kafka, sitting casually on your bed with her legs crossed. Her gentle smile greeted you as she rose from your bed and approached you.

"Did you have a good time with Himeko?" Kafka asked, her smile retaining its gentleness yet carrying an intimidating undertone. She swiftly slammed her hands against the door, blocking your exit and leaving you confined between her and the door.

"How did you even get in here..." you asked, your back pressing against the door as you leaned back, but Kafka just shook her head.

"That's not important," Kafka hissed, her grip on your shoulder firm as she forcefully turned you around. With one hand, she held your wrists, pushing them against your back, effectively immobilizing you as you faced the door.

"What's important is the fact that you're mine." she whispered into your ear, pressing herself against you tightly to make you feel her cock bulging. "I may have let you join them, but that doesn't mean I'm giving you away."

After a while, you felt her movements behind you. Looking over your shoulder, she's already half naked. Her cock standing hard, ready to be inside you. "Let's make all of them know who you belong to." Kafka then grabbed your clothes, she didn't have the patience to take them off so she just ripped them apart, making you grunt.

You squirmed in discomfort as you felt Kafka's hard cock pressing against your ass. With one swift movement, she grabbed hold of your pussy lips and forcefully pushed herself inside.

You cried out in pain as she rammed her cock deep into your sensitive flesh. The feeling was intense as she continued relentlessly fucking you against the door.

"Kafka... they're just outside..!" You tried desperately to push her away but found yourself powerless under her domineering presence. With every forceful penetration, Kafka growled like an animal intent on claiming its territory.

Hours passed by as Kafka took her vengeance on you, fucking you mercilessly. You felt your body weaken under the assault of repeated breeding. Each time she filled you with her seed, it seemed to make room for more, like an insatiable beast demanding satisfaction.

Your legs began to shake uncontrollably from exhaustion and pain, but still, Kafka continued pounding into you without any sign of slowing down. A pool of cum had formed around where she was plunging in and out of your pussy, while another trailed down from between your ass cheeks – a testament to how many times she'd violated that entrance too.

Suddenly, a familiar voice came from the other side of the door, making Kafka stop her movements to listen. "Are you okay in there? We've been hearing things inside your room." Himeko asked softly, knocking on the door.

"Perfect timing... tell her you're fine." Kafka whispered into your ear, you just nodded obediently, gathering your thoughts but Kafka's cock twitched and she began fucking you even harder than before.

"I-I'm..." You trailed off as drool rolls down the corner of your lips, it was already hard to think properly.. but you're being ordered to talk despite your already broken state.

"Answer her properly." she growled into your ear as she pounded away at your quivering cunt. "I'm...fine...!" You tried your best to shout over the loud thudding of Kafka's hips as she pounded into you.

But it seemed like hearing Himeko's voice only fueled her rage more. Her thrusts grew harder and faster, driving deeper into your aching body with each passing second. Tears streamed down your face as pain shot through every nerve ending in contact with her - both from the relentless fucking and the fear that this would never end.

"Good girl..." Kafka cooed before she grabbed one of your legs and pulled it up towards her, forcing your wet pussy even further onto her throbbing cock each time she drove forward.

The sounds of flesh slapping against flesh filled the air around you, echoing off the walls until there was no denying what was happening within these four walls.

With one final, powerful thrust, Kafka let out a primal growl as she filled you with her seed once more. This time, it felt like her cock was pushing against something deep within your womb – perhaps even touching the very walls of your uterus itself, making you scream loudly.

She held onto your already limp body tightly, refusing to release the hold she had over both your body and mind even after depositing yet another load deep within you.

You could hear Himeko knocking hard on your door, telling you to open it but you're too busy catching your breath when Kafka is not pulling out at all.

"Should I open the door for her?" Kafka asked before she held your chin to make you look at her while you sobbed, tears and drool are all over your face but you desperately shook your head.

"N-No... please, please..." You begged but Kafka just let out a chuckle, holding you tighter to make sure Himeko will see how deep she's buried into your limp body, the pool of cum on the floor and your fucked out face before she opened the door...

#inou inbox #inou works #kafka honkai star rail #kafka smut #hsr smut #kafka x female reader #kafka x you

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amber-laughs · 7 months

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Jon and Catelyn: The Accidental Progeny

Survival

Catelyn saw the shadow slip through the open door behind him. There was a low rumble, less than a snarl, the merest whisper of a threat, but he must have heard something, because he started to turn just as the wolf made its leap. They went down together, half sprawled over Catelyn where she'd fallen. The wolf had him under the jaw. The man's shriek lasted less than a second before the beast wrenched back its head, taking out half his throat. A Game of Thrones - Catelyn III

And suddenly the corpse's weight was gone, its fingers ripped from his throat. It was all Jon could do to roll over, retching and shaking. Ghost had it again. He watched as the direwolf buried his teeth in the wight's gut and began to rip and tear. A Game of Thrones - Jon VII

Reassurance

Her hand groped beneath her cloak, her fingers stiff and fumbling. The dagger was still at her side. She found she had to touch it now and then, to reassure herself. A Game of Thrones - Catelyn IV

He flexed the burned fingers of his sword hand. Longclaw was slung to his saddle, the carved stone wolf's-head pommel and soft leather grip of the great bastard sword within easy reach. A Storm of Swords - Jon II

Family

His mouth tightened. "And you see fit to loose the Kingslayer. You had no right." "I had a mother's right."

“You wanted a way to save your little sister and still hold fast to the honor that means so much to you, to the vows you swore before your wooden god." She pointed with a pale finger. "There he stands, Lord Snow. Arya's deliverance.” A Dance with Dragons - Melisandre I

Vengeance

"Give me Cersei Lannister, Lord Karstark, and you would see how gentle a woman can be," Catelyn replied. A Game of Thrones - Catelyn XI

"It's death and destruction I want to bring down upon House Lannister, not scorn." A Dance with Dragons - Jon II

Pain

When Loras Tyrell unhorsed him, many of us became a trifle poorer. Ser Jaime lost a hundred golden dragons, the queen lost an emerald pendant, and I lost my knife. Her Grace got the emerald back, but the winner kept the rest." "Who?" Catelyn demanded, her mouth dry with fear. Her fingers ached with remembered pain. A Clash of Kings - Catelyn IV

Ser Barristan had been the Old Bear's best hope, Jon remembered; if he had fallen, what chance was there that Mormont's letter would be heeded? He curled his hand into a fist. Pain shot through his burned fingers. "What of my sisters?" A Game of Thrones - Jon VIII

Intuition

"Robb." She stopped and held his arm. "I told you once to keep Theon Greyjoy close, and you did not listen. Listen now. Send this man away. I am not saying you must banish him. Find some task that requires a man of courage, some honorable duty, what it is matters not… but do not keep him near you." A Storm of Swords - Catelyn II

All of a man's crimes were wiped away when he took the black, and all of his allegiances as well, yet he found it hard to think of Janos Slynt as a brother. There is blood between us. This man helped slay my father and did his best to have me killed as well. "Lord Janos." Jon sheathed his sword. "I am giving you command of Greyguard." A Dance with Dragons - Jon II

Inheritance

"That is as cruel as it is unfair. Jon is no Theon." "So you pray. Have you considered your sisters? What of their rights? I agree that the north must not be permitted to pass to the Imp, but what of Arya? By law, she comes after Sansa... your own sister, trueborn… " A Storm of Swords - Catelyn V

I had hoped to bestow Winterfell on a northman, you may recall. A son of Eddard Stark. He threw my offer in my face." Stannis Baratheon with a grievance was like a mastiff with a bone; he gnawed it down to splinters. "By right Winterfell should go to my sister Sansa." A Dance with Dragons - Jon I

Peace

"Wars need not be fought until the last drop of blood." Even she could hear the desperation in her voice. "You would not be the first king to bend the knee, nor even the first Stark." […] Robb's face was cold. "Is that why you freed the Kingslayer? To make a peace with the Lannisters?" "I freed Jaime for Sansa's sake . . . and Arya's, if she still lives. You know that. But if I nurtured some hope of buying peace as well, was that so ill?" A Storm of Swords - Catelyn IV

"If it please m'lord, the lads were wondering. Will it be peace, m'lord? Or blood and iron?" "Peace," Jon Snow replied. "Three days hence, Tormund Giantsbane will lead his people through the Wall. As friends, not foes. Some may even swell our ranks, as brothers. Now back to your duties." A Dance with Dragons - Jon XI

Fear

In the midst of slaughter, the Lord of the Crossing sat on his carved oaken throne, watching greedily. There was a dagger on the floor a few feet away. Perhaps it had skittered there when the Smalljon knocked the table off its trestles, or perhaps it had fallen from the hand of some dying man. Catelyn crawled toward it. Her limbs were leaden, and the taste of blood was in her mouth. A Storm of Swords - Catelyn VII

Men were screaming. Jon reached for Longclaw, but his fingers had grown stiff and clumsy. Somehow he could not seem to get the sword free of its scabbard. A Dance with Dragons - Jon XIII

Death

"Make an end," and a hand grabbed her scalp just as she'd done with Jinglebell, and she thought, No, don't, don't cut my hair, Ned loves my hair. Then the steel was at her throat, and its bite was red and cold. A Storm of Swords - Catelyn VII

Pain washed over him. Stick them with the pointy end. When the third dagger took him between the shoulder blades, he gave a grunt and fell face-first into the snow. He never felt the fourth knife. Only the cold… A Dance with Dragons - Jon XIII

Resurrection

“Sometimes she felt as though her heart had turned to stone.” A Game of Thrones - Catelyn VI

“Instead, he blamed Jon Snow and wondered when Jon's heart had turned to stone.” A Feast for Crows - Samwell III

#that one girl who really doesn't play about jon and catelyn #they mean so much to me I think she's his most defining relationship #asoiaf meta #Catelyn tully #catelyn stark #jon snow #Valyrian scrolls #asoiaf #game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf parallels #valyrianscrol #lady stoneheart

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starfirewildheart · 6 months

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Chapter 2

The Wolf and the Flame

Summary: Geralt had just found Ciri and was headed to Kaer Morhen when something drew him into the woods. He found a woman near death and things changed for them all. (I suck at summaries just read please!) Yennefer is bad in the start of this but she and Geralt work on their friendship. Eskel is a dick at first but there is a reason and it works out. Will have a happy ending. Ciri is younger here than in the netflix show. She is about 12.

Warnings: abuse history, injuries, hurt comfort, no one under 18 to be safe, will add when I need to

Words: 3,233

Naurel heard soft muted sounds around her. A crackling fire, water being dipped out of a bucket, the sound of something being placed on a hard surface. An astringent smell stung her nose and she absently wondered who’d been injured and if she was needed to help. She was on a hard surface but was warm with a soft pillow under her head. Then the pain registered in her mind and all the terror she’d experienced flooded back with a vengeance. She gasped a deep, wheezing breath and sat bolt upright. Searing pain shot through her body and her ribs protested both her breathing and movement so much that she nearly vomited.

Geralt had been crouched down adding more wood to the fire when he heard the gasping breath. As quick as he was, the woman had already sat up by the time he got to her. He gently pushed her back down. “You are safe here.”

Her eyes locked with the giant man’s again and she remembered seeing them before and some of the panic ebbed. “W..Where am I?” Her voice was scratchy and her throat hurt but nothing like it had before when she was awake.

“You are in the town of Lakeside, at the home of the healer,” he answered. “What is your name?”

“Naurel,” she answered. “How did I…? I was dying..” she trailed off, confused.

“You were nearly dead when I found you and brought you here,” he affirmed. “Triss worked for hours to bring you back from the brink.”

“Who are you?”

“Geralt of Riva,” he nodded to her. “We were traveling and saw your encampment. Were you traveling with the Nilfgaarians?”

A shiver ran through her. “No.” She was afraid to tell him she had been their prisoner. She didn’t know anything about him or where his loyalties lay.

He could sense her hesitation and didn’t push. She’d been through hell and he knew it would take time for her to trust him. Still, he felt drawn to her. There was something there that he didn’t understand. “What happened?”

“I..I’m not sure,” She hedged. It was partly true. She didn’t know exactly how things had happened in the end. “My dress?” she gasped and tried to set up again but his hand on her shoulder stopped her.

“It’s ruined. We will get you something else to wear.”

“But I need it!”

Her eyes were panicked and he could smell the stress coming from her. “I don’t think it can be saved but I will put it in my bag to be cleaned.”

“No,” she shook her head. “The skirt has a hidden pocket on the inside.” She watched Geralt go to the pile of rags that was formerly her dress and search the pieces until he found what he was searching for and returned it to her. She clutched the gold locket against her chest with trembling hands and relaxed against the pillow. “Thank you. It’s the only thing I have from my birth family. The only clue to who I was before I became nothing.”

“Where are you from?” He continued with the questions, keeping them simple so she didn’t feel threatened, although he wanted to argue with her about being nothing.

“I.. I don’t know where I was born,” she told him honestly. “I was sold as a slave in Centra when I was three. I remained there, though I was sold to a few different families over the years.”

A frown crossed his stone features. “I had no idea that Calanthe allowed slavery in her kingdom.” He knew she was not the great Queen some pretended her to be. While she wasn’t as prejudiced as Nilfgaard and its leaders she still did not like elves or anyone different in her eyes. She just wasn’t as open about it. “Is that who did this to you? The person who owned you?”

“No. I mean yes.” She sighed and tried again to explain, “some of it,” she corrected. “I was accused of taking something from the market but I didn’t,” she insisted. Panic was starting to bubble up in her chest. Why the hell was she telling him about her accused crime? What if he took her back there so they could punish her more? She would end up back in the hands of her torturer?

Geralt could hear her heart starting to race and her breath hitching. “Easy, you are safe. I will not let anyone else harm you Naurel. I promise you. Relax and slow your breathing. It will only aggravate your ribs.”

“You are a witcher.” It was a statement, not a question. Geralt nodded. “Why are you helping me? I have no coin to pay you or anything to give you in return.”

“I am not asking for anything.” He had to bite back a frustrated sigh at the damn witcher stereotypes. “I’m not the monster.”

“I.. I didn’t mean to imply that you were. I just.. I know witchers kill monsters for coin. It’s how you survive.” She stumbled over her words. “Thank you, for everything. I didn’t mean to insult you.”

He was about to speak when Triss and Ciri came barreling in from outside. “Good, you’re awake,” Triss sighed breathlessly. “The villagers have heard about what happened to the girl. How she was found among the dead and they think she's a death omen. They are coming here. You can’t stay here Geralt.”

“She can’t travel like this,” he growled. “I’ll talk to them.”

“They are in no talking mood. I tried. They are afraid that whatever killed all the soldiers is still after her. If she stays here then they think whoever or whatever it was will come looking for her.” Triss paused. “I can’t say I disagree with them either. She poses a threat to the village and Lakeside is a peaceful place.”

Naurel pulled herself to a sitting position, noticing for the first time that she was naked under the sheet as it pooled around her hips. Her face flamed red as she quickly covered herself. “I don’t want to cause trouble.”

Triss nodded at her and started gathering some herbs. She handed them to Geralt along with some other supplies and a jar with flowers and a white milky liquid inside. “This is milk of the poppy. A drop of this under her tongue for pain when she needs it. It’s fall and the herbs and flowers are getting hard to come by. I don't know if you will be able to find much on your journey. Traveling will not be easy on horseback but she would never survive a portal. Take her to Kaer Morhen. I will go ahead and let Vesimer know you are coming. We will prepare for your arrival.”

He didn’t like it at all but he knew Triss was right. He would have to kill the entire village if they stayed and he couldn’t risk exposing Ciri like that. By the time he packed the saddlebags and got the horses ready Triss had helped Naurel into a dress and some shoes. The poor girl was still so weak she was shaking like a leaf blowing in a windstorm. Scooping her up in his arms he placed her on Roach before climbing up behind her. The villagers were running toward them with pitchforks and torches as they rode out of town.

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Geralt kept the pace as slow as he dared to try and lessen the strain on Naurel’s battered body. Even though Triss healed all she could there were still many injuries that remained. He could feel her start to lean against his chest, body exhausted but then she would quickly straighten up again and try to support her weight. He wrapped one of his arms around her waist and carefully pressed her back. “Rest, I’ll keep you steady.”

She sank back against him, no match for his strength. Hell, she was pretty sure a slight breeze could knock her over right now. “I don’t want to hurt you,” she argued even though she didn’t try to set back up.

He grinned at her. “I assure you that your weight is no burden.” It was like her body fit to his perfectly. It felt right. “How is your pain? Do you need something for it?”

She shook her head as she curled to his chest. His skin was so warm and she was so cold. One of the many experiments that the evil sorcerer had performed on her made her feel like her blood was ice. “So warm,” she sighed. Geralt pulled his cloak so that it was wrapped around her as well. There was barely a chill in the air and he wondered if an infection was starting to sit in on some of her wounds.

“Do you want some water?” Ciri wanted to talk to the woman, to find out more about her but she was unsure. In the back of her mind, she wondered if the woman was sent to kidnap her. She knew it didn’t make sense but still, she was leery of the newcomer.

Naurel forced her eyes open and smiled at Ciri. “No thank you, Princess.”

“You know who I am?”

“Yes,” she rested her head back against Geralt’s shoulder. “May I ask why the Lion Cub of Centra is traveling with a witcher and not the guard?”

Ciri bristled, “is that some sort of cruel joke? How do you know who I am?” she demanded.

“I meant no disrespect,” she said as she sat up straight. “I know who you are because I was a slave in your city. When I would go to the market I would often see you playing knucklebones. Members of the guard would always be lurking nearby to keep you safe.”

“Then you know well that all my family was slaughtered by the same soldiers you were found with! How dare you be so cruel!” Ciri shouted.

“Easy,” Geralt said as he held a calming hand out toward Ciri. “She was a captive not a member of their party.”

Ciri backed down slightly but was still angry. “Fine but why be so cruel to ask why I’m not with my dead family?” she demanded.

“Dead?” Naurel gasped. “How?”

Geralt was shocked that she didn’t know about the sacking of Centra. “How long were you held captive?”

“I.. I lost track. I was kept chained in the dark. No sun or moonlight ever filtered down to the depths of hell I was a part of.” A shiver ran through her at the memory. “I’m very sorry about your family princess.”

Ciri huffed and trotted her horse ahead a bit. She didn’t like this woman at all. Geralt was ready to stop Ciri when she rode ahead but she didn’t go far so he let her have some space. He could feel the anger coming off his young charge and the sadness and disappointment coming off of the woman in his arms. This was going to be a long trip.

“I didn’t mean to upset her,” Naurel said as she forced herself to set up again. She always seemed to say the wrong thing. “I don’t think I can walk very far but if you could find a place near the water to leave me. I will be fine.” She squirmed attempting to free herself.

“You think I am going to leave you alone in the woods, injured?” Geralt asked. He was angry that she even suggested it.

“If I’m close to the water I’ll likely survive.” She shrugged then flinched at the pain the simple movement caused her.

“And when something or someone attacks you?” he growled.

She shrugged again, hissing at the movement. She really had to stop doing that. “Then I die.”

Her answer was so blunt and matter of fact that it caught him off guard. “If I was willing to let that happen I would have left you in the woods where I found you. Ciri is in pain right now, just like you, only her’s is emotional pain.” He put his large hand on her stomach and pressed her back against him before wrapping her in his cloak again. “And you will listen to me when I tell you to do something. It is not up for debate.” Geralt didn’t know why he felt so possessive of her but he did. It was like she was meant to be a part of him.

A wave of desire ran through her and she wanted to bare her neck to him and submit but that wasn’t in her nature, ever. It’s like the words that came from Geralt went straight to her soul. Like he was meant to command her and she was built to be his to command. What the hell had that sorceress done to her? She’d never felt this way before. She let him push her back and settled in but gave him a grievous pout in return and she was sure she saw the corner of his mouth turn up in a grin. That was the last thing she remembered until they came to a stop a few hours later.

“We need to make camp for the night,” Geralt said. Ciri, who had fallen back to ride beside him again, pulled her horse to a stop and hopped down grateful to be out of the saddle for a bit. Geralt handed her his bedroll. “Put that down over there so I can put Naurel on it while I set up camp.”

“I can do it,” Naurel said from the crook of his neck. She felt him chuckle. “I can,” she huffed.

“Uh huh,” he agreed as he climbed off of Roach and pulled her into his arms. “I know you can.” She was fucking adorable.

“You know, I’m not going to be weak forever witcher.” Her growl was tiny and soft but a growl non the less.

“Oh I’m counting on that,” he smirked as he put her on the blanket. “Now do you think the two of you can stay out of trouble long enough for me to gather some wood for a fire?”

Naurel and Ciri both gave him indignant huffs as he walked away. Ciri sat down next to Naurel and offered her some water. “That’s the first time I’ve seen him smile,” she told the redhead.

Naurel took a sip of the water. “He isn’t anything like the stories I’ve heard of witchers. They are said to be feral, emotionless beasts whose only thoughts are to kill monsters, seek pleasure, and make coin. Geralt seems to be the opposite of that really.” She looked at Ciri, “I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It’s alright. I overreacted. It’s just still all so fresh in my mind that anything seems to cause a flood of memories and thoughts.”

She nodded in sympathy. “How long have you known Geralt?”

“Four days.” She smiled at the surprised look on Naurel’s face. “Before I was born the law of surprise was invoked. My grandmother told me to find him as she lay dying. That he was my destiny. I still have no idea what that means,” Ciri confessed.

“What does he have to say about it?” Naurel asked.

“I haven’t asked him,” Ciri confessed. “Since I found him people have been trying to take me or kill me and then he found you so there hasn’t been time to talk about it.”

“About what?” Geralt asked as he strode back to camp with his arms full of wood.

Ciri bit her lip. “What any of this means. What I am to you?”

He continued to set up the wood for a fire as they spoke but Naurel caught the tightness that flashed in his eyes momentarily. “It means that I will protect you with my life. We will find out why all of this is happening.”

“Why would my grandmother keep all of this from me?” She was hurt and angry to have been kept in the dark so long.

“I assume she thought she was somehow protecting you. We never realize our time is short until it’s too late.” He looked up at her with sympathetic eyes. “I don’t think she did it with malice. I think she wanted to hide you from the evils of the world and protect you but all she managed to do was to leave you unprepared for what was to happen. She left you with more questions than answers but I promise you, I will do all in my power to help you.”

Ciri nodded, happy with that answer. She was relieved that she wasn’t to be his wife. Gods Geralt was hot of course but he was far too old for her. Appeased for now she watched as Geralt flirted with Naurel. It was funny to watch, really. You could tell it was completely foreign to the witcher but still, he was so damn cute.

They all talked for a while before Ciri fell asleep near the fire. Geralt checked all Naurel’s bandages before bundling her in a blanket close to his side under the lean-to he’d built to block the wind. “You should rest,” he told her.

“No, you should rest. You have been going for at least forty-eight hours Geralt, you need sleep.”

“I will be fine,” he argued.

“When you sleep are you easy to wake?” she asked.

“Of course but I won’t fall asleep. I will keep you safe,” he reassured her.

“I know you will.” She gently pushed at his shoulder until he let her readjust his position and pull his head against her chest. “You sleep. If I hear anything I promise I will wake you. When I get sleepy I will tell you and you can take watch.” When he opened his mouth to protest she put her finger to his lips to stop him. “No arguing witcher,” she scolded. “It’s your turn to let me take care of you for a while.” She felt his shoulders slump in defeat and knew she’d won.

Geralt was going to continue to argue but he let her win this one. He would rest his eyes for a few minutes so that she felt like she had helped him some. He laid his head on her chest and sighed contentedly as she started carding her fingers through his hair. Her soft, pliant body against him, her fingers massaging his scalp and back, her sweet scent, and the warmth of the fire lulled him to sleep and for the first time in a long time, he didn’t have a nightmare.

Tag List

@kneelforloki

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #witcher geralt #the witcher #witcher fanfiction

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truths33k3r4 · 3 months

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CHAPTER 25 - Grieving Cadence

The room burst with chaotic energy in a matter of milliseconds as Leo ran into the dojo to grab his twin katanas. For a normal person, such a stressful situation would leave the barer with a scrambled mind, floundering through the room and tripping over themselves as they try to process what just happened.

But Leo has never been normal. His eyes remained focused as his feet ran with purpose and will. His expression had gone into full ‘ Leader Mode ‘, leaving behind any traces of ‘ teenager ‘. His ‘oldest brother’ side still shone brightly, but it mirrored the image of a stoplight; Flashing and pulsing with warnings of danger, and no warmth in its vibrant hue.

When Leo sprinted back into the Living Room, Mikey could see the panic shrinking his pupils. The eldest was still very much aware of his surroundings, and was even still forcing a steady heartbeat. But his eyes gave away the facade the leader always carried.

Without thinking, Mikey flung the afghan off his legs and pushed himself off the couch, dropping the bag of frozen broccoli to the floor with a crunch.

He made it about two steps before the adrenaline rushing through his body slightly dissipated, allowing a tightening pressure coiling around his right ankle like a boa constrictor squeezing its prey. With a piercing screech, the youngest fell onto the floor holding his leg tightly to his chest.

Well…. That was stupid. He mentally groaned.

“ MICHELANGELO HANTEN! “ Yelled the leader, whom was quickly rushing up to the side of his once again fallen brother.

Ok…. Now I’m dead.

Leo grabbed Mikey’s shoulders and raised him up off the floor, then slid his arm around the youngest’s waist while leading him back to the couch.

“ Mikey I don’t have time for this- “ the leader rushed, nearly dropping Mikey haphazardly onto the cushions, “Just… Just stay here- I’ll be back as soon as I can- “

“ - No way, dude! You are not leavin’ me here like some cripple- I’m coming with. They’re my brothers too! “

To enforce his statement, Mikey pulled off the afghan Leo just placed back on his legs, and began sliding off the cushions again. This action was met with a silent but DEADLY whack from his brother’s calloused hand to Mikey’s right knee.

“ No, Mikey. “ The oldest solemnly stated as the youngest groaned from the impact, “ You are staying HERE. “

After the brotherly-inflicted pain faded in his knee, Mikey raised his head in defiance at the leader.

“ I’m.. coming.. You can’t stop me, Leo. “ Mikey tried very hard to sound as tough as he could, while still also struggling under the intensifying ache in his ankle. It didn’t come out as a pathetic squeak, so he’ll call it a win in his book.

The eldest’s eyes sparked as a war was fought between feelings of annoyance and respect for his little brother. Mikey watched as Leo sank deep into thought, probably trying to think of a plan to get Mikey off his back so he could go search for their missing brothers.

Leo growled as he reached for the built in power panel and clicked one of its many buttons, finally ending the horrible cacophony of the panic alarm.

“ - I can’t THINK with all this noise.. “ Leo grumbled as he rubbed his fingers into his temples.

As the leader tried to make a plan, Mikey was also attempting to figure a solution to his problem.

How bad does it REALLY hurt-

He tried to wiggle his foot, but abruptly stopped the motion as the ache returned with a vengeance. He was VERY lucky that the only noise that escaped him was a low rumbly hum. Had he shouted, groaned, or yelped again, Leo would have had him in his arms and off to bed in a second.

Alright, maybe I shouldn’t walk just yet… OW.

Mikey let out his own quiet growl as he could hear the grandfather clock tick away in Sensei’s Study.

They were running out of time.

The panic button carried a graven heaviness to it. One of the reasons the alarm’s song was so frightening to Leo and him was the fact that they’d never heard it before. Don had only just installed it on the day that Master Splinter finally allowed the brothers to go to the surface on their own. That was like two weeks ago.

Mikey slowly turned to look at his leader.

Leo’s expression finally revealed the torment running rampant through his mind, as he grew more and more tense with each failed phone call to his lost brothers. Mikey could hear the annoyed sound of Raph’s voice as his message played again and again in Leo’s ear.

‘ “ How does this stupid thing work…….what- what do you mean it’s already recording?! GRRRR DON SHOW ME HOW TO WORK THIS PIECE OF- [ BEEP ] “ ‘

When Raph first recorded his answering machine message, the brothers would all burst into laughter whenever he missed their calls. But now, Leo only grimaced and shrank at the harsh sounds of his fiery brother, almost as if the recording was taunting him.

REMINDING him.

“ Come on.. COME ON. “ The eldest bit his lip as he tried for Don’s cell again. With each failed call his mind became more and more unclear, as his voice was failing to conceal his shame and anger, his sadness… and his regret.

‘ “ Sorry, this is Donatello Hamato, I’m not at the phone right now, please leave a message, and if I have time I might call you back. [ BEEP ] “ ‘

“ - GRRRAHHH!! “

Leo raised his phone as if he were about to throw it into the ground, his arm stretched and taught like a band on a slingshot. Just as he looked like he was about to throw it with all the force he could muster, his arms went limp to his sides as he lost the battle to hold back his tears. The leader in blue, the one with the plan, the one who should never fail his family, fell down on his knees and began….

.. to pray.

Mikey could barely hear his brother as the oldest’s voice clashed and strained from the guilt and shame that swirled in his heart. The youngest could make out a few words through the chokes and sobs, the most used being “ please” and “ help them”… But the rest was grief-stricken gibberish that only God Himself was able to understand.

That’s good..seeing how He can actually do something for our brothers.. Mikey thought to himself, his inner voice tinged with bitterness.

Mikey looked down with hate filled eyes at his swollen ankle. He could feel his own tears now beginning to stream down his face as he gulped down the growing anxiety bubbling up his throat.

I can’t do anything.

His bitter heart added a sting to the tears as they pricked the corners of his eyes.

I can’t do anything for them.

He looked up.

…. But… I know You can.

With a strained voice, Mikey called to his brother, but all that sounded was the same pathetic squeak he was trying to avoid from before.

Dang it.

Mikey tried again, this time clearing his throat the best he could.

“ Leo…”

The oldest’s bowed head slowly rose from the ground to look up at his youngest brother. Tears had stained his royal blue mask, and his eyes were rimmed with a soft red. Choked sobs still weaseled their way out of Leo’s throat, as his gaze met Mikey’s.

“ Come.. *hic*.. Come here, bro. Pl- pl- lease..”

Without a word, Leo walked to his brother’s side. And Mikey, in one smooth motion, leapt off the couch one last time.

“ M- mikey n- no- “

The oldest never finished his sentence as his body was met with a crushing hug from his little brother.

The two stood there for what felt like hours, embracing each other as their shoulders trembled, and nestling their heads deep into the other’s neck. Their arms clung tighter and tighter as their separate sobs melded together into a cadence of fear and grief.

Their fight from earlier had no place in either of the brothers’ thoughts as they continued to try to comfort each other. The two boys’ minds were far too busy being filled with reasons of why Don and Raph sounded the dreaded alarm. What could have happened to them. If they were both alright.

..If they would ever come home.

“ We- we’re run-n-ning out of ti-ime.. “ The oldest whispered as he rubbed the tears from his eyes into Mikey’s shoulder.

The youngest’s chest tightened as he took a sharp inhale.

He knew what he had to do.

And he hated it.

“…G-go…..Go fi- find the- them. “ Mikey whispered back, “ I- I’ll only s-slow you do- down.. “

Leo lifted his head to look his youngest brother in the eyes. The oldest’s expression was filled with child-like fear and nervousness; He looked like a kid again. He had that same look that all kids wear when something scary happens:

WHAT DO I DO?

And with that question, a child would usually go to the closest adult in the room.

Leo is seventeen.

And he’s the closest they had to an adult until Splinter came home from scavenging in Central Park.

But with the call to leadership, Leo’s face and posture changed. His slumped shoulders straightened, and his chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. He gave the weakest of smiles, rubbed his eyes one last time, and then nodded as he gently pushed Mikey back onto the couch.

“ I’ll f- find them, Mikey. “

Leo placed his hand on the back of Mikey’s neck, and lowered his forehead to the youngest’s.

“… I promise. “

As Leo picked up his katanas and began to run to the Lair’s main doorway into the tunnels, Mikey remembered something.

“ W-wait- Leo, hold up! “

The eldest quickly swiveled his head to be in Mikey’s direction, as the youngest leaned over and pulled some kind of secret drawer out of the coffee table. He grabbed something shiny and then threw it to Leo. With a quick flick of his wrist thanks to his ninja skills, the blue clad turtle caught the energy bar with ease. After a slight glance at the snack, he looked back up to Mikey with a “ you know what you did “ grin. Mikey responded with the widest of grins Leo’s ever seen.

“ .. Thanks, Little Brother. “

In a blur of green and blue, Leo had vanished sprinting down the tunnels.

Mikey gave a long, weighted sigh as he wiped away the remaining tears on his face.

… It’s ok….Leo’s got it… He’ll find them….

As he sat on the couch, not sure where to land his eyes, he noticed the wooden picture frame hanging on the wall next to the hallway. The words written inside the glass echoed in Mikey’s mind as his heart finally shattered.

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. Acknowledge Him in all your ways and He will direct your paths. “

They’ll be ok…. Mikey thought as he fell deep into the cushions of the couch, once again letting his tears stream freely, Leo will find them.. God will help him find them..

Mikey closed his eyes.

Lord… Keep my brothers safe.. Please, Lord..

PLEASE bring them home.

That's it for this chapter! :) Hope you enjoyed it! ( Or it made you sob your eyes out, either way as a author I win XD )

To God be the glory!

~ Melissa

MASTERPOST <- PRIOR CHAPTER NEXT CHAPTER ->

#tmnt #my version of tmnt!!#the strength in weakness #SIW Leo #SIW Mikey #hurt/comfort #comfort #hugging #tcest DNI- THEY ARE BROTHERS YA FREAKS #Sibling moment #Grieving #loss #trusting in God

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renmedys · 1 month

Text

BACKS TURNED, FACES FORWARD

haruno sakura is tired of always being left in the dust. (or: sakura throughout the years, chasing after people who might be too far gone.)

pairing: haruno sakura/uchiha sasuke (slight) content: character study-ish, slight romance words: 3.5k notes: my attempt at a character study (not really). its just that 685 forever has a chokehold on me & i love sasusaku & kishimoto rlly did his main heroine dirty. originally i wanted it to be more of a piece about team 7 collectively, but winded up being a little more sasusaku centric xdd

HARUNO Sakura has spent her entire life gazing upon two backs. And she’s tired of it, of course she is. Sasuke was never once in reach, but after he set out on his quest for power and vengeance, even the slightest trace of him was hard to come by. That teenage back and the red and white fan that sits proudly upon it—Sakura wishes she had some way she could reach him from across the continent and alleviate the weights which burden him so. But she could not stop him. Not with her words or actions, and not with her love.

And what use was love if it couldn’t save anyone, especially the very person who brings it to life within you?

She wanted to curse her weakness, and to curse Sasuke most of all for all the tears she shed and the nights she lay awake. Yet still she cannot. Love would not let her, and that was the cruelest thing of all. She would love him to her grave, and whether that is testament that her love is true or that she is just plain old stubborn, she’s not sure. What she’s sure of is that she’s tired of watching Naruto run off ahead of her in Sasuke’s pursuit.

Sakura has been watching this whole time. She watched the curse mark embed itself into Sasuke’s flesh, take root like an invasive plant. Orochimaru sank his fangs into him, and though she’s sure Sasuke’s not foolish enough to hand over his body so willingly, even she could tell that the venom was corroding him from the inside out. His bloodline—Sakura does not pretend to know its blood-steeped history, and she’s long since stopped pretending to understand the pain and hatred that comes with it. But she does know the pain that it has brought her, and the pain it has brought Naruto.

She can see the way Naruto’s eyebrows furrow the tiniest bit at Sasuke’s mention, the way his gaze softens at the murmur of his name to the way it hardens when people speak ill of him. She notices the skyward glances, the clenching fists. His steadfast promise, his unwavering shinobi way, she can see its resolve strengthen for the sake of Sasuke. Like her, Naruto loves Sasuke, and Sakura can see this too. It is ironic, then, that it is Sasuke who possesses superior sight in the Sharingan who cannot see the same.

Nonetheless, Naruto has been chasing Sasuke all this time. And what has Sakura been doing? Weeping like a damned, helpless damsel, waiting for someone else to do all the work to bring back her Prince Charming? She has watched the Uchiha crest grow smaller and smaller upon the horizon of her heart, so faint and out of reach that despite thinking of him every day, she feels he is going to dissipate. Naruto, too—his back has grown broader in the years he has been away from the village, but smaller as well the further she lags behind.

The same scrawny brat has grown into someone reliable, and Sasuke surely has advanced as well. Sakura cannot sit idly by any longer. Not that she has, by any means—under the tutelage of Lady Tsunade she has grown into a medical ninja of unmatched potential and honed her physical prowess to the highest degree she can. But it is still not enough. So long as she cannot reach Sasuke’s heart, she is afraid it will never be enough.

“Sakura.”

Naruto’s voice shakes her out of a trance. They are sitting side by side on the bench by the village gate, the same scene that marks the biggest failure of Sakura’s life. The sakura trees are blooming, but Sakura cannot say the same for herself. Each passing day she is continuously wilting. There is no cycle for her, only an everlasting process of fading until one day she will have fallen completely from the branch.

“Sorry,” she says. “I was lost in thought.”

“About Sasuke,” he asks, though he says it like he already knows.

Sakura nods, twiddling her thumbs. “I wonder what he’s up to.”

Naruto typically takes it upon himself to brighten a dismal atmosphere, but today Sakura is sullen enough that she does not want to be cheered up. No, she wants to linger in this sadness a little longer, let the melancholy soak the way one does in a freshly drawn bath. It is better to face the pain than to continue shutting it down. To bleed is to be alive, so to hurt is to love.

“You know him,” Naruto says, sinking against the backing of the bench. “Probably moping about revenge and all that. He won’t come to his senses unless we sock it to him, Sakura.”

“I know that, idiot.”

Naruto gives her a sideways glance and smiles. Pats her on the back a couple times, then stands in preparation to leave. Naruto is more sensitive than most, in that regard.

“I miss him,” Sakura says, before Naruto has a chance to turn his back to her again. “I wish he would come back. If we could just talk to him…”

“Guys like him,” Naruto says, “only talk through their fists.”

“I can’t beat him,” Sakura admits sorrowfully. She buries her face in her hands. “I’m not strong enough to get through to him.”

“Right now, neither am I.”

Naruto’s confession brings Sakura’s face out of her hands. She turns to Naruto, who is smiling against the blue sky and blossoming petals.

“I lost to him at the Final Valley,” he continues. “I’m sure Sasuke’s gotten super strong since then, too. So I’d probably lose to him now anyway.”

“Then—”

“That’s why we both gotta get stronger.” Naruto turns, looking over his shoulder. “That way, no matter how strong Sasuke is when we see him again, it won’t matter. Because it’ll be two against one!”

Yes, Sakura thinks, her eyes closing as her lips pull upward into a smile. Tears are pooling in her waterline. They will get Sasuke back. And when they do, they’ll be three again. Naruto’s back is growing ever smaller as he walks toward the village center, but for once, she doesn’t mind it.

AMONGST the broken rubble of Orochimaru’s hideout, Sakura is perusing the halls like a child lost in a maze. She’s not looking for anything in particular. No, that’s not true. She’s looking for a reason. Something, anything that might explain how Sasuke had become the stranger that stood before Naruto and Sakura, how the clan crest etched on his back had fanned the flames from a kindling warmth to raging wildfire. There must be something.

Naruto is outside, still standing in the crater left behind by Sasuke. Locked in place, his head is tilted upward, and the sky is clear despite the way their hearts are overcast. Yamato and Sai are by him, having left Sakura to wander on her own, but she can sense the little inkborn mouse that Sai sends to tail her, to make sure she doesn’t go off too far or get herself into danger. Sakura has always been the most observant of the three—so it’s an easy task to hear the tiny footsteps that tap against the stone floors a few paces behind.

Sakura pushes it out of her mind. Let them follow her all they like, it doesn’t matter. What matters right now is finding something that will help. She checks every path and every turn until she turns the last one and finds a dead end. She places a hesitant hand against the stone bricks. She’s ready to accept defeat and reconvene with the makeshift Team Seven. She’s ready to go home, she thinks. She wonders if Sasuke ever misses Konoha. If he ever misses home. (Was Konoha ever home to him?) Then she feels her hand sink into the wall. Her head whips around as she sees one of the bricks push inward. She pushes harder, until the grinding of stone relinquishes into a click. The wall crumbles. It seems that the explosion from earlier broke the mechanism.

Regardless, Sakura ducks her head to squeeze through the hole that has appeared, and on the other side she is rendered speechless. The room sprawls out before her, empty and bare but familiar. To her right, aligned against the corner, there is a desk and a chair pulled out in front of it. Someone was here, not too long ago. She walks over. Somehow, she can tell—if there is anything of value in this room, it will be in this desk. She reaches a tentative hand toward the drawer, careful not to break it. It’s unlocked, and it slides out smoothly. There’s a blank white sheet of paper. It’s been ripped apart and put back together. The paper is fraying at the edges, and when she flips it over she begins to cry.

The smiling faces of their younger selves—Kakashi, Naruto, Sasuke, Sakura—they are gazing back at her, though Sasuke and Naruto are, of course, glaring at each other more than they are posing for a picture. There’s no doubt about it. This belongs to Sasuke, and it proves nothing if not that Sasuke thinks of Konoha, of them. Enough that the attempt to sever these ties is remedied by tape and glue, shoddy though the job is. Sasuke is not yet out of reach, and for now, that is enough.

WHEN Sakura tells Naruto she loves him, she already knows that Naruto won't be fooled. He’s not that same naive kid anymore. But she says it anyway, because it’s worth a try if it means obtaining closure. She disregards the shocked faces of all those around her, ignoring the way their eyes are baring into her back. She meets Naruto’s gaze, and she meets it with headstrong determination, a conduct becoming of the kunoichi she knows she can be. She will kill Sasuke, and she will kill her love when she does. Then it will all be over.

She tells Naruto she loves him. That she’s done chasing after the once noble Sasuke who has fallen to criminal and fugitive status. She says to him that Sasuke keeps getting farther and farther away, that in her mind’s eye she can hardly see the Uchiha crest on his back anymore. That it is Naruto, who remains steadfast by her side and staying true to his word, whom she loves now. A woman’s heart is as changeable as the autumn sky, she laughs, and she hugs him.

Naruto does not move, and instead he shoves her back by the shoulders. He tells her, “I hate people who lie to themselves.”

They argue. Naruto says it's not just about the promise anymore. He wants to help Sasuke, and Sakura can see through the windows to his soul that he knows more than he is letting on. Inside, Sakura wants to scream. Why is she always the last one to know things? Why is she always outside of the loop? What does Naruto know that he cannot tell her, that she does not deserve to know? How can she ever reach Sasuke when everything is always one step ahead of her, whether enemy or comrade or information or life?

“Fine!” she tells him. “I’m going home.”

She beckons Kiba and Lee and Sai, and they follow. She bites her lip to stop it from trembling. She cannot show weakness here. Sakura must not falter.

Her plan is simple, and executed despite a few bumps on the way. Kiba, Sai, and Lee are put to sleep, Naruto caught in it too.

At the bridge, she sees him, cloaked and standing over a woman’s body. Sakura doesn’t have time to worry about who she is.

“Sasuke!” she yells. “I’ve come to join you! I’ve gone rogue from Konoha.”

Sasuke meets her eyes with skepticism, eyes blood red and whirling with the Sharingan. He tells her that if she’s serious, she’ll kill the woman he’s standing over. Sakura can tell she’s wounded, though not fatally. She could live, if Sakura treated her. But Sakura says that she’ll do whatever Sasuke wants, and even when she flinches at Sasuke’s desire to destroy Konoha, she forges onward. When she walks by Sasuke, a poisoned kunai is ready to strike. With it in her trembling grasp, she thinks to herself, “Right now, if I stab Sasuke, it’ll all be over.”

That moment of hesitation, the multitude of thoughts that flash through her head in that single millisecond are enough to spell her doom. A chidori is crackling with static behind her, and if it weren’t for Kakashi intercepting and redirecting the blow, Sakura was as good as dead. Of course she knows why she faltered, even if she resolved time and time again to bring this to a close. She doesn’t want it all to be over. She wants Sasuke to come home, to be himself again, to smile with her and Naruto and Kakashi and to be Team Seven.

Kakashi orders Sakura to take the woman and leave. Tells her that this is not a burden she needs to bear alone. That it is his fault, his failure as their teacher and mentor, that led to this rift between them. Sakura is tired of being coddled. Tired of things being out of her hands and sick of being reminded time and time again that she can do nothing but rely on others. She takes the red-haired woman who Sasuke has now abandoned away from the battle, treating her as the tears flow uncontrollably. She’s careful to make sure none of them drip onto open wounds, because she can handle this, at the very least.

“Sasuke…” coughs the woman, her eyes on the verge of unconsciousness, “you don’t know Sasuke anymore.”

Everything after that is a blur. She leaps into action, ricocheting herself off the arch of the bridge in a sudden movement, kunai ready to pierce the very back she has spent her adolescent years chasing after. But she freezes, and she falters once more. She cannot do it, and such is the curse of love.

Sasuke whirls around and brings a hand to her throat. This time, Sakura is okay with it. Better that she die by his hand than somewhere on the battlefield, unfulfilled. She closes her eyes, waiting for the release of death. This love was going to die eventually.

That much is evident when it is Naruto, always only ever Naruto, who can reach Sasuke with his words.

IT is in the midst of battle when Sakura sees him again. Kneading chakra and channeling into her medical ninjutsu as she treats Naruto, Sasuke leaps down to land in front of them. He says her name, for the first time in what feels like forever, and the sound of his voice washes over her like a springtime breeze. This is the Sasuke she knows. Warm and strong and genuine. Sure, his announcement of his interest in the position of Hokage shocks her (as it does everyone else), but she can look past it.

At his arrival, Naruto has seemingly recharged and been given a burst of new energy. Looking over his shoulder, he thanks her for the healing, tells her to take a break.

“Let’s go, Sasuke,” Naruto says, and Sakura is sure that he means no harm and is simply oblivious to how the words spear her heart. She’s done being reduced to a spectator. She’s done sitting on the sidelines and merely being the third member of Team Seven who cannot compare to the great Uzumaki Naruto and infamous Uchiha Sasuke. Haruno Sakura is a Konoha shinobi, too. Haruno Sakura is an apprentice of one of the great prodigal three, too.

She will take her stand here. Not once has she been proud of her life, of her journey of being a shinobi. But today, that will change. She always considered herself beneath them, figured that their destinies were simply far greater than hers. But Haruno Sakura, you are not only the third member of Team Seven, an apprentice of the prodigal three, but also the Fifth Hokage’s disciple. She feels the heat bubbling in her forehead as the 100 Healings Mark settles. Her once greatest insecurity has now become the shore which harbors her greatest achievement, and this time, she stands beside and not behind Naruto and Sasuke. This time, their clan crests circle each other as equals. Yes, this is how it was always meant to be. Even in the crossfire of war, Sakura cannot help but wish for this moment to last forever.

But when the tides of the war ebb and flow, as they do, she wonders if that feeling of equality were nothing more than her own childish delusions. A belief in grandeur, a meaningless faith in a destiny greater than oneself—was that all her efforts amounted to?

Obito is kneeling before her. Sasuke has been whisked away to some other realm in a different time-space that only Obito can reach. Naruto is off occupying Kaguya, and Sakura has once again been relegated to a supporting role where she cannot do anything on her own. Assisting others, helping others—don’t get her wrong, she’s happy to do these things. But it is so damn frustrating to see her teammates do, on their own, the things that she cannot.

Sakura swore off self-pity years ago. Still, it manages to stick, like gum on the sole of your shoes, the residue forever there, unable to be washed off. As she’s pouring all her chakra into Obito, she can only pray for a miracle. She had tossed off her tattered combat vest, it falling to the floor as she quickly pushed her sleeves up. She released her mark, letting all the chakra she’d been kneading and storing flood through her. She can feel a prickling electricity travel down her neck down to arms, the mass amount of chakra she’s circulating through her body making her heat up, and if Obito can’t find Sasuke soon, she’s going to burst.

Suddenly, a portal opens, and off in the distance stands Sasuke, facing the opposite direction. She can see him as clear as day, though—she’s been staring at his back all this time, after all. She’d recognize it no matter the distance, because no physical distance can match the mental rift she’s come to realize exists between them. She still loves him, of course. But she can’t deny it any longer.

She yells his name. It falls off her tongue flawlessly because it is second nature. His name was engraved into her from the moment she was born—this was the boy she was always meant to love and always will.

Sasuke turns and begins to run, and it takes every fiber of Sakura’s being to maintain the portal, and she can tell Obito is struggling just as hard. She’s not sure how much longer she can hold out, and she can tell she’s nearing her end when the portal begins spasming, flickering as it tries to close. The portal is growing smaller and smaller as the seconds tick by, and Sasuke is nowhere near. This is it, Sakura thinks. This will take the place of the greatest failure of her life.

Her eyelids flutter as sparks fly from her hands, the heat combusting in her veins as she falls back from Obito, weakly. Her body is collapsing, and she can see the ground growing ever closer, until—

She feels an arm around her and a warm presence she could never mistake. She has barely enough strength to merely shift her gaze to the man who caught her, and she is met in return with the same red wheels of the Sharingan. But this time, there is no spite, no hatred, no vengeance. There is fire, but it is gentle and caressing, and suddenly she realizes there was never a rift between them at all.

To show one’s back is to show vulnerability. To leave it unguarded symbolizes trust. Sasuke and Naruto have shown her theirs all this time not because they were leaving her behind, but because they knew she would never betray them. It’s so stupid. If that was what they meant, they should’ve just said that. Sakura feels a tear well up in her eye.

“You’ve got it from here,” she mumbles, giving Sasuke a grin.

Sasuke allows himself the slightest of smiles. “I made it here thanks to you,” he says.

“Hmph!” she scoffs with pride. “You got that right.”

“Sakura.” Her name sounds so right in Sasuke’s voice. “You did well.”

She feels a blush rise to her cheeks as her consciousness begins to fade.

“Come back alive,” she says as he sets her down against a rock. “And tell that to stupid Naruto, too.”

Once this was all over, they would be together again. As three, as Team Seven. The way things were always meant to be. And this time, Sakura’s not falling behind.

#haruno sakura #sakura #sasusaku #sasuke uchiha #uchiha sasuke #sakura haruno #naruto #naruto uzumaki #uzumaki naruto #kakashi #naruto shippuden #sakura x sasuke #naruto 685 #when sasuke catches sakura iykyk #sakura they could never make me hate you #my girl <3 #renmedys

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silverjetsystm · 1 month

Text

What ghost haunts you?

the ghost of vengeance

you ache for revenge and little else. red paints your vision, and it has grown so thick that it has grown so hard to see. somewhere within your ribs is a child longing for comfort again. you will never let them see the light of day. for now, there is blood on your hands and your teeth. before you were a human, you were an omen with a heart constructed of thorns. when audre lorde wrote, “i feel it’s my anger that helped keep me alive.” when ashe vernon wrote, “isn’t this rage so ugly? and isn’t it mine, still? good god, isn’t it mine?” you will never find peace within your own anger, but you bathe in it anyway. the way you always have."

the ghost of devotion

your body was crafted to be loved and to be adored. you write with the touch of a poet, the fingertips of a lover. if you are not loved, you are not whole. you are made to be sculpted by the hands of another into something perfect. without their love, you feel as though you may crumble without the support of purpose their touch provides. when ernest hemingway wrote “it was too good to last.” when ocean vuong wrote, “i miss you more than i remember you.” when david foster wallace wrote, “everything i’ve ever let go of has claw marks on it.”

the ghost of rotting truth

you are an actor. you are a performer. you bow to an audience of none but yourself and the gods that know you are a liar. this pain and this longing once drowned you, but time has passed. you were congratulated for your healing. but grief’s icy hands remain inside of your chest, cupping your heart. grief is hooking its fingers under the ridges of your ribcage. with time, it will tear you open. you are meant to bleed slowly. the agony will softly devour you from the back of your memory, and you will smile through it all like it doesn’t hurt, taking your bow when the performance is over. but when the curtains close, do you crumble to your knees? who reaches for you? when the healer falls, who checks to make sure they are alright? silas melvin wrote, “you’re so polite with your sadness. you don’t want to ruin this for anyone.”

lifted from @magnetic-regent-magneto

tagging: @kylo-wrecked @lalamoon @themckaytriarchy @valkxrie @whtwclf

#dash games #we are mk | system

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gerec · 1 year

Note

Hello! Could you tell me about the stories where Charles is gravely injured after holding Shaw? I know some of them but you probably know the best ones.

There are quite a few XMFC canon aus related to the coin - here are a few I hope you enjoy!

You want blood, and I promised by hllfire

When Erik kills Shaw with that coin, Charles doesn't come out of it unharmed.

Do You Know How It Feels? by Berserkwriting (WIP)

How deep does Charles go when he sees into someone’s mind? How deep did the coin go when it went into his? Deep enough to break him. Erik has a purpose, a duty. But he can't stop dreaming of Charles. His search for answers can only lead back to the source. But what will he find when he gets there? A tale of two monsters. A tale of redemption.

For but a Measure by tirsynni

In which taking a psychic coin to the brain affects Charles more than planned, and not so much a fix-it as a possible new path opening.

Two Sided Coin Of Misery by BrightTerror This is what would have happened if Charles had not come out seemingly unscathed after he felt the coin kill Shaw, what if after it he couldn't shrug it off that easily? How would Erik have reacted to it?

The Better Men by VampirePam

Alternate ending: explores what would have happened after the beach if Charles had collapsed from the damage the coin did, Erik had relinquished his desire for vengeance to help him, and Erik had to reassure Charles that his vision of the original ending was only a nightmare.

A mind is a prisoner of its own castle by OneWithoutAName

When the coin pushed through Shaw’s head it ripped Charles’ mental walls with it. Charles manages to make new ones, but the damage is already done. It takes under 24 hours until the voices start. The voices that are not really there.

If I could walk back to yesterday, I would by sareyen

Charles had braced himself for the pain. He knew that when Erik would push the coin through Shaw's head that he would inadvertently push it into his. He knew that he would feel the slow, torturous drag of metal through his skin, his brain tissue, his mind. He had even prepared for the heartbreak and the betrayal, because once Erik had put on Shaw's helmet, Charles's heart had already shattered to pieces.

But when Charles's mind was fractured by the coin, he hadn't been prepared to lose a part of himself he could not bear to live without.

Because without a mind he had no telepathy, and without telepathy, Charles was...

Human.

Or: Charles loses his telepathy after Cuba, and all the pain that follows.

Psychic Coin by TheMadThing

In which being linked to Shaw's mind as he dies has devastating consequences for Charles' mental control and things progress from there.

Scream Hallelujah, Darling by eclenic

It's such a small, innocuous thing, a coin. It's hard to believe it could cause so much damage. For the X Men Big Bang.

#gerec rambles #cherik #xmfc #canon au #xmfc au #cuba au #fic search

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bidokja · 1 year

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This is what they said like. His character didn't change in the slightest you just are a misogynist

WHAT. WHAT IN THE GODDAMN.

HOW DO YOU MISREAD BOTH CHARACTERS AND THE POINT OF THEIR GROWTH/DEVELOPMENT SO BAD LIKE. THIS IS ALMOST IMPRESSIVE (DEROGATORY)

HE DID NOT HAVE AN IRON WILL HE WAS HELLBENT ON VENGEANCE AND DESENSITIZED TO HIS OWN WELL BEING DUE TO YEARS OF HEAVY DEPRESSION AND NONEXISTENT SELF ESTEEM. HE ALSO HAD NO ONE TO GENUINELY CARE ABOUT, NOR ANYONE WHO WOULD RETURN THE SAME KIND OF CARE. THAT'S WHY HE COULD KILL HIMSELF SO EASILY. ARE YOU STUPID.

it's only when gongja found both someone else to care deeply for AND realized through this that the state of ones well being doesn't just affect oneself but also the people who care for you most that he was able to truly put his darker past behind him and try to find a way forward without devaluing his own life. it's only then that he begins to acknowledge that while pain is a shared language, it is something that must be secondary to (or in tandem with) love as a shared language. shared pain aids in communication and understanding, but love is what sees us through it all. and if pain all you think you have then that is all you can give as well. we as human being must be able to share both, or we're just ghosts.

also "under the thumb of a girl" it's called loving and listening to your spouse, or generally just. any person you decide to share the rest of your life with. "under the thumb" she has one (1) rule for him and that's "don't die unless you have to" it's not even a hard rule she knows sometimes it will be inevitable. sorry you're such a swagless misogynist that you think a woman not compromising what she wants and needs for a man means that she's ruling over him. sorry you're such an insufferable douche that you think gongja and raviel mutually caring for what the other wants in their relationship and in their own lives is affecting his dignity. sorry your ego is more fragile that a soggy piece of paper. die mad about it.

one last thing. "completely subservient in two days" listen i'm open to criticisms about romance in most cases, especially if it feels out of nowhere or too hastily pushed. gongja and raviel are not one of those cases. i'm honestly surprised he didn't realize how smitten he was even sooner. tbf it's not his fault he had like Zero experience with romance or anything

edit: ALSO WAIT. "FLOWERY ROMANTIC LANGUAGE" THE REST OF THE NOVEL IS WRITTEN THE SAME WAY. JUST NOT ABOUT ROMANCE. HELLO. so so so so so often men in fandom use "i hate romance" as a...i can't even say its a veil really, it's just obvious code for "i hate women" like. go n cry about it no one gives a shit about your weird perception of what an ideal iron willed man(tm) should be

#in case it wasnt clear the 'love' i'm talking about in the first half is General. any and all love #though of course for gongja and raviel its romantic in nature #but im also of the firm belief that different kinds of love can coexist. romantic love and platonic love can be interconnected #or layered or mixed or linked. however you wanna describe it #ANYWAYS #glad i don't associate or interact with fandoms at large im just here in my space. my area. no dickheads allowed #ask #sssrh

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press-f-to-rat · 1 year

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So. I might have done a thing. A friend (LOOKING AT YOU @kingassblast ) got me into Darkest Dungeon. And I got attached to Bigby and now I've been writing about my new favorite little scrungly pretty much non-stop.

We were just rambling to each other in DMs when suddenly, I had an idea for a prompt: "Paracelsus' research of the Beast finally amounts to something."

And so, I got to writing a little bit :))) Naturally, this isn't canon compliant, but simply a little what if. I know a lot of people (Myself included) really like to make Para and Bigby friends, so. I wanted to write a little something that perhaps would create a rift between them :) a little angst, as a treat :))

Anyway, that's enough rambling from me. Hope you enjoy!! It's below the "read more" :)

'Y-you created your own?!" Bigby's voice thundered through the air, shaking all the delicate glassware Paracelsus kept in her laboratory. "A-and not just that, but—You...you inflicted it upon yourself? V-Voluntarily?!" His voice trembled with some form of horrified rage, that anyone would willingly bring his own wretched curse upon themself.

Paracelsus, on the other hand, spoke with her typical level-headedness, though she could not stop the flow of cool indignation bubbling up from deep within her. “But think of the progress that will come of this! Should you not be glad that perhaps your curse might bring about some good?"

“What g-good could outweigh the d-damage done by bringing another m-m-monster into the world?!"

She could see the green ichor bulging in his veins with every word, the outlines only growing more apparent with his rage.

“Bigby," the Plague Doctor countered, "I have it entirely under my control. My experiments have made sure of that. It cannot harm anyone unless I will it.”

“Th-That is what it wants you to think! And then—wh-when your guard is down—it will exact i-its vengeance!" His voice felt edged with the bile of his blood, seeping from the dark recesses of his mind, where the Beast lurked. Betrayal—That was what this was! She had betrayed his trust! He had thought she would help him—Use the Eldritch poison in his veins to ease the curse. But this! No, no good could come of this. This was madness.

“If I knew that th-this is what y-you were going to use m-m-my blood for, then—I n-never would have let you h-have it.” The words burned in the air where they hung, hot with fury and pain.

There was a pang in Paracelsus’ chest—Was that guilt? Oh, but she knew guilt, and she knew how to bottle it away in her mind like any other poison she’d dealt with. “Then you’re simply ignorant to the potential it holds.” She hissed.

Bigby said nothing. Instead, his blood boiling with rage, he stretched his lips into a snarl, showcasing row after row of sharp, animalistic fangs. A roar erupted from his throat as he tore out of her laboratory, nearly ripping the door off its hinges and slamming it behind him so hard the building shook.

The Plague Doctor sighed wearily, removing the thick, leather gloves she wore to reveal her own hands, unexpectedly transfigured into scaly claws. She flexed her fingers and clicked her ebony talons against one another, feeling her brows furrow beneath her mask. Perhaps that conversation had affected her more than she thought.

Perhaps… perhaps this was a mistake.

But there was no going back from here. Her choice was made, and no matter what happened, she would have to live with it.

It was only now that she took the time to question… What had she done?

#darkest dungeon #fanfic #we love it when para reverse engineers whatever monstrous alchemy brought about the beast #and then uses it on herself because why not #she is the embodiment of #you were so preoccupied with whether you could that you didn't stop to think if you should #also bigby has a stutter because i saw another writer give him one #and i loved their characterization of him so much that i osmosed it into my own interpretation of him

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grailfinders · 1 year

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Fate & Phantasms TDoV special!

we're getting a little too close to 1000 followers for my liking, so it's time to celebrate the Transgender Day of Visibility! /j

sadly we don't have the time to create a whole new build for a famous historical transgender person, but we still have time to do a roundup of all the trans people already in fate, whether through their historical source or in fate itself. we're also including any servant who intentionally doesn't care about the gender binary in here, because its our list and we'll do as we'll please. we're also not including genderbends on being genderbent alone, or else we'd be here all day.

so, if you want to get a trans D&D party together for the Transgender Day of Vengeance, check out some of the options below!

Artoria Pendragon: we're including her not because she's a genderbend, but because she spent her entire life laboring under a gender role that slowly crushed her physically and mentally. Big mood, as the kids say.

Chevalier d'Eon: obviously putting modern labels of sexuality on historical figures is a fraught game at the best of times, but we can definitely say that the historical d'Eon was intersex, and chose to present as female towards the end of her life, so whatever she was it definitely wasn't cisgender.

Cú Chulainn: Cu isn't explicitly transgender in either his source nor in Fate, but it's not that hard to get a trans interpretation from the Ulster Cycle, what with its emphasis on how small and beardless Cu is, plus how he was immune to that curse Medb used to give all the men of Ulster birthing pains. plus this is our list so fuck it, we stan.

Sir Francis Drake: now admittedly this is our shakiest logic yet, but hear me out- her bio explicitly says that her crew sees calling her a woman as "rude" to her. there's a lot of ways to read into that, and this is one of them.

Jack the Ripper: ...can you reject the gender you were assigned at birth if you were never born? still, this one's just a numbers game- at least one of those abortions would've been assigned male, right? also, a screaming amalgam of the dead back for vengeance is great energy to bring to the party.

Mordred Pendragon: their gender? knight.

SHIKI, Shiki, and Shiki: being multiple people does wild things to gender. problematic fave tbf

Astolfo: Astolfo.

Hundred Personas: again, this one's a numbers game. ...do they still count as trans if they have their own bodies now? also, give them the male tag lasengle. you cowards.

Minamoto-no-Raikou: we're not including this one just because she's a genderbend, but because she's spent her whole life under the burden of a gender role she never wanted. also I've met plenty of tranfemmes who are just as obsessed about motherhood and want that exact kind of body.

Leonardo da Vinci: nonbinary queen, we stan

Enkidu: literally genderfluid, I can respect a good pun.

Prince Nezha: does not give a shit about their gender. good for them, best beep-boop.

Sieg: the yggdmillenia family didn't bother giving their mana batteries genders, so Sieg's canonically intersex! he's also a fucking great looper, if you got him you should level him.

Shi Huangdi: at some point the first emperor of china kind of forgot gender existed. god I wish that was me.

Kama: they can transform, Lasengle. you said so yourself. give them a male skin, you cowards

Sima Yi & Reines: ...I mean, I hear people call being trans like, "having a man's soul in a woman's body", and that's literally this.. does this count? I don't know, but the important thing is it's raising the question.

Maou Nobu: I've met them and they're trans, that's good enough proof for me.

Caeneus: ditto.

Van Gogh, Nemo, and Taira-no-Kagekiyo: I'm sorry for lumping these three together, but they're all right next to each other and they're all just "being multiple people does weird things to your gender" again.

Kiichi Hogen: see Kama.

#fate grand order #fgo #D&D 5e #DND #transgender

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direwombat · 1 year

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tagged by @inafieldofdaisies, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @roofgeese, and @baldurrs to list 5-10 songs that relate to my otp <3 <3 <3

tagging: @adelaidedrubman, @strangefable, @strafethesesinners, @fourlittleseedlings, @kittiofdoom, @sukoshimikan, @confidentandgood, @detectivelokis, @sstewyhosseini, @aceghosts, @poetikat, and anyone else wanting to share their playlists for their otp (but no pressure <;3)

— r: define your meaning of war [main playlist here]

songs under the cut because baby's LONG -- first three are vaguely from syb's pov, the next three from jacob's, and the last three are mutual feelings <3

heaven or hell - digital daggers

I've got the same deep wounds as you, My love can double as a weapon too Say that you trust it and I'll set it free Turn it back on me Turn it back on me

We trade our secrets when it's safe Our ammunition when the fever breaks Show me the side no one else sees Turn it back on me Turn it back on me

I am exposed, I am undone You tear the walls down one by one We tried to run, we tried to hide in fear of losing ourselves We tried to keep it all inside so we don't hurt someone else When all the demons come alive I'll still be under your spell, This could be heaven or hell This could be heaven or hell

blindfold - sleeping wolf

In the dark I need to taste the blood Go on Draw another line we can cross this time Battle scars Your touch is not enough I need you to pierce my Veins and become my pain

So use your blindfold Cover your hands on my eyes, closed Do it again Tie me up and show me what's real Hate your love, but love how you feel Useless, trying to fight And the truth is, I'd rather be blind I'd rather be blind

not strong enough - apocalyptica + brent smith

I'm not strong enough to stay away I can't run from you I just run back to you Like a moth, I'm drawn into your flame You say my name But it's not the same

You look in my eyes I'm stripped of my pride And my soul surrenders And you bring my heart to its knees

And it's killing me when you're away And I wanna leave, and I wanna stay And I'm so confused, so hard to choose Between the pleasure and the pain And I know it's wrong, and I know it's right Even if I try to win the fight My heart would overrule my mind And I'm not strong enough to stay away

i know i'm a wolf - young heretics

Dear rabbit, my legs are getting weak chasing you The snow fields wouldn't seem so big if you knew That this blood on my teeth it is far beyond dry And I've captured you once but I wasn't quite right So I'm telling you that you'll be safe with me.

on your knees - matthew mayfield

Such a disgrace Thе way the vengeance tastes Best served cold But it's the heat I crave

Took the fall but Learned to crawl up the highest prison wall Yeah, doing my best to keep you pressed In a sunken chest

This is the way to life This is the way to die Darling, I hope you, see what I go through But I ain’t gonna leave you on your knees This is where the love counts Covered in the breakdown I ain’t gonna leave you on your knees No, I ain’t gonna leave you on your knees

afterlife - nothing but thieves

You can tell your God he can keep his salvation And if you like, the angels can fly into the sun We don't, we don't have to do this again Please don't, please don't make me start this again

It was only ever you It was only ever you My baby, it feels like a lifetime Oh God, I don't think I could do two

My soul is tortured with love and lust and hate My cracked lips are unkissed for a million days My infected heart, it's bleeding in this cage I'm losing my dignity, not got long left to wait

iris - diamante + breaking benjamin

And I'd give up forever to touch you 'Cause I know that you feel me somehow You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be And I don't want to go home right now

And all I can taste is this moment And all I can breathe is your life And sooner or later, it's over I just don't wanna miss you tonight

And I don't want the world to see me 'Cause I don't think that they'd understand When everything's made to be broken I just want you to know who I am

marked for death - emma ruth rundle

it was right that we did meet each other in each other’s eyes it was right that we did see each other in our shadow sides it was wrong then too that crazy love, loves crazy as it does and each of us and both of us so crazy; as it was

who else is going to love someone like you that’s marked for death who else is going to be with you when you breathe your last who else is going to take my place and hold and keep you safe/sane who else is going to stay

somebody to die for - hurts

I've got nothing left to live for Got no reason yet to die But when I'm standing in the gallows I'll be staring at the sky

Because no matter where they take me In death I will survive And I will never be forgotten With you by my side

Cause I don't need this life I just need...

Somebody to die for

#r: define your meaning of war #i will never not mention this particular version of 'iris' it's just so good i love it so much #oc: deputy sybille la roux

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jjoelswatch · 9 months

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Big ol' health rant under the cut.

I'm beyond frustrated with my care team and how hard I have to advocate for myself to get tests/labs done.

I've been not feeling well symptomatically for over a year, and been dealing with lack of appetite issues for about three years. Started with right side stomach pain last August that led to potential gallbladder issue concerns. I had every test under the sun to rule it out (abdominal ultrasound, upper scope, HIDA scan, stool sample) and everything came back okay aside from some inflammation (no H. Pylori, no celiac, no gallstones, no ulcers-- gallbladder, liver, pancreas, etc function all normal). So it was just like "well okay, I guess nothing's wrong with me except that my right abdomen hurts from time to time" and I tried to move on with my life.

I started having strange neurological symptoms back in March of this year (tingling/numb sensation in my face, strange senses of touch in parts of my face-- like parts of my face felt like a balloon). I've always suffered from ocular migraines with aura and no pain (and flashes of light/visual snow), so I thought it was just fun new migraine symptoms. They went away for a few months then came back in full force with even more fun symptoms (tingling in my hands and feet, lack of sensation in my right leg but not total numbness, a gradual increase in forgetfulness/short term memory issues that are SO not the norm for me, middle back pain??), so I scheduled an appointment with a neurologist and went to my shitty CNP "doctor" (disclaimer, CNPs are not doctors despite how the American healthcare system treats them like doctors) and basically pleaded with her to run bloodwork on me and to try to do anything to get me into for brain scans or something. Because weird neurological symptoms are super scary and it's hard not to assume the worst when you're experiencing them fairly suddenly.

She ran my bloodwork and found that my B12 levels were really low. I learned that B12 can cause literally all my symptoms, so I was relieved and they put me on 4 weeks of weekly B12 injections, with the plan to start monthly injections afterwards. She also told me they were going to test my bloodwork for folate levels and talk to one of the doctors in the practice to get to the bottom of what's causing my deficiency since I wasn't anemic or vegan/vegetarian. I felt...hopeful? and like we were headed down the right path.

Well, the office failed to click "submit" to order my blood to be tested for folate. So my CNP couldn't work with the other doctor to try to puzzle out what's wrong with me.

I was feeling pretty good during those 4 weeks of injections. My memory was sharper and my symptoms were gradually reducing (there is apparently something called "nerve wake up" when dealing with neuro issues from B12D, which can still cause symptoms to show). I knew that recovery would be gradual, as it can take 6 months to a year to really recover from neuro damage/issues from B12D, so I tried to stay positive. But a week and a half out from my last weekly shot, my symptoms returned with a vengeance.

Now my symptoms are a right leg that wants to cramp up from hamstring to calf, a left toe that just...twitches of its own accord, other random muscle twitches/tenseness, and (possibly unrelated?) increased acid reflux issues. My neuro appointment isn't until the first week of October (because the US sucks and it literally takes 5-6 months to see specialists at the bare minimum), so I messaged my doctor in a bit of a panic with some questions about my symptoms and asking if we could more aggressively treat the deficiency, because like...I'm concerned about perma nerve damage at this point?? And she tells me she's going to refer me to a neurologist without answering any of my other questions or trying to see me any eariler.... If she'd looked at my file or remembered our last conversation, she would know that I already have a appointment with one.

I caved and did several things. I tried to switch to the other doctor in the office she said she was going to work with to get to the bottom of my issues, because...why not go straight to the source? That failed, as the practice "doesn't do that, as a rule" which like...okay? Desperate for relief, I started sublingual supplements of B12 (fucked up at first at did the methyl version which just didn't agree with my body and switched to the same form as my shots were). I started seeing some relief in my symptoms, including my muscle tension in my leg (which was previously causing me to have trouble walking) and some of my muscle twitching.

I also called the neurologist's office like, "listen I know you guys haven't seen me yet, but can you order some scans to give me some peace of mind?" and they finally agreed to send me in for a cervical spine MRI and an EMG. I did the MRI only to find out that the reason they had me down for one was "neck pain" which I've literally never said I had and they didn't include a brain MRI like I'd expected given my symptoms. MRI turned out fine, which was a relief as much as it was kind of expected. The EMG is yet to be done (on the 28th).

I finally had my appointment with my CNP on Monday for my first monthly shot and to do labs, including the folate lab they screwed up. I told her that I wanted her to run labs for the missed folate, iron, vitamin D, magnesium, and copper. She sort of...laughed at me?? and told me that we ran those labs already. I told her to look at my chart because we didn't, and she obviously had to walk back her sentence and was like "I don't think we need to run labs for vitamin D but we can if you want?" and of course I said that I did. She refused to run labs for magnesium because that was "a more serious lab" and then said she "didn't know how to even test for copper because that's a heavy metal". I get my labs done, get my first monthly B12 shot. She sends me on my way with "depending on how your labs turn out, we'll see if we need to continue B12 shots"...when it can take a year for my symptoms to correct themselves.

Go figure~ my labs come back - the labs I had to TELL her to order for me - and out of a desired 30+ range for vitamin D, my level is 7 lmao. Thankfully I still am going to be getting monthly B12 shots since my levels are higher (due to self-treating) but still low. I also have to take vitamin D and a multivitamin now. She also referred me to a hematologist because I brought up the MTHR gene that can affect B12 absorption since I'm not anemic or vegan. I just want to know what's causing this deficiency, because she seems to have dropped the ball on the matter altogether.

I'm close to a week out from my last shot now and my muscles are getting tense and twitchy again. It's so, so hard to sit here and tell myself that this healing process is just going to take time-- trying to reassure myself that my muscle twitching is just "nerve wake up" and not a sign of something much worse. I've been going quietly crazy worried about ALS, Parkinson's, or MS because these deficiencies can mimic their symptoms. I just want it to be the 28th so I can get my EMG done and over with, and then see my neuro on the 2nd of October. I so tired of going to the doctor. I'm tired of feeling like they don't take me and my symptoms seriously. I'm tired of feeling like an annoyance. I'm tried of having to go out and do my own research and then bringing that research to my doctors, because between the two of us, I don't have a fucking medical degree. I'm tried of hearing "don't consult Dr. Google" when what else am I supposed to do when you're not doing your job thoroughly?

I'm just tired and I want to feel better.

#health stuff #b12 deficiency #vitamin d deficiency #detailed medical talk under the cut so read at your own discretion

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forthedancingandthethriving · 9 months

Text

Under a read more because of

Repetition ("Do you think..")

General distressing themes

Do you think when the Rising Star Circus universe collapsed, Database didn't know what to do? Do you think they hunched over from the pain, eyes wide and tears falling down their face? Do you think Database didn't know what to do, so they only sobbed and wailed?

Do you think, when they finally believed it all all okay, that no more universes would be destroyed, Database keeled over because SMG0's and Niles's universe was dying? Do you think they frantically looked in in time to see the forced fusion? Do you think, through the pain, they desperately looked into the Adminspace, just in time to see Lag suffering the affects of the universe dying?

Do you think they realized that the God Box was behind Niles, possibly even behind the reason why he had gone insane? Do you think their fury, their wrath, their anger overshadowed their pain, and Database teared their way out of their home, screaming in rage?

Do you think Database's scream shook the world they made to its very core, stopping everything? Do you think even the most courageous and even the most daring of Code Beings felt fearful?

Do you think that, as Database made their way to The Great Beyond, hands gripped around their battle axe, their power was overwhelming and terrifying? Do you think as they stood before the God Box, gripping the battle axe so tight their knuckles were white, the look of fury instilled fear in the God Box?

Do you think, as they raised their battle axe, knowing there was little to nothing to God Box could do to stop it..

They saw something?

Do you think Database saw the four Guardians and an Avatar, along with a Demigoddess, traveling to defeat the God Box? Do you think they saw how hard they fought to get vengeance for a fallen friend and those who were lost by the God Box?

Do you think Database lowered their battle axe but still glared at the God Box? Do you think they wanted to get vengeance for all those who had lost their lives because of the God Box (and how they wince and nearly cry in pain, feeling another universe start to crumble)?

Do you think Database simply turns and leaves, though their grip was still tight on their weapon as a warning?

Do you think that when SMG1 and SMG2's universe collapsed, they wanted to reach out and help their Admins? Quickly scoop what was left of their code and do their best to keep them alive? Do you think Database wanted to help, help so badly?

Do you think they watch all the universes closely, looking to see if there's ever the threat of one collapsing again? So that they can stop it from happening, holding up the universe so it won't meet the same fate as those before it?

Do you think Database sits there in their little space, being more active than they ever thought they would be, because they don't want anyone else to suffer?

#fusion: database #the god box #!posts!#tw repetition

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fanficismylife · 1 year

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First fanfic.

Lost possibilities - love for another universe

Katsukis body was barely regonizable, battered and bruised on the ground covered with his own blood. His heart unmoving in his body. Izuku eyes blurred in and out of focus as the world tilted on its axis. Kacchan was dead. There was no way right. Katsuki has always been his image of victory. Kacchan couldnt of been dead. They had theyre whole lives ahead of them. They had to fight for the number one spot and push eachother and..and kacchan was dead. Izuku tried to urge his body to move towards katsuki body but he could barely pull in enough oxygen to stay conscious. Staring..staring was all he could do. The unmoving body on the ground blurring in and out of focus as flashes of a younger katsuki haunted the back of izukus eyes. Katsuki turning to izuku with the huge confident smile on his face and telling him to follow. Katsuki laughing at izuku. Katsuki smacking izukus hand away in the river that day. The day that changed their friendship and lives for the worse but also the day that lead izuku to where he was. Had getting one for all been worth it? When it lead to Kacchan being dead. Would izuku never see his scowl again or her piercing ruby eyes that seemed to stare right through his insecurities.

Seconds felt like hours as izuku stood there befor his knees bent and he half collapsed on the ground. Gloved hands digging into the dirt, smearing it all over the grayish white fabric. “Kacchan please..wake up”, Izuku sobbed as the first tears started to well up in his eyes. He wished he could rip these gloves off. He wished he could dig his nails into his hands so hard, hed wake up from this horrible, horrible fucking nightmare. Hiccups and groans left his throat in broken sounds befor he started wobby dragging his self the few feet to katsukis body. “kacchan please, i need you”.

Blindly pulling himself across the dirt in a half scramble to reach katsuki. Desperate to save him, because they're had to be a chance right? Izukus hand slipped out from under him and he fell, his head landing against Katsukis arm and oh god, fuck..it was cold. It was so cold. Desperate please of “kacchan” and whimpers started spilling out of izukus mouth. Katsuki was so cold. Izuku pushed himself up to look at katsukis's face and his already crumbling world seemed to shatter at that moment. Katsuki barely looked like himself. Half his face was covered in red and scorched skin and dead hazy red eyes, devoid of the fire and life that was usually in them stared into the sky. It was so wrong, All of this was wrong. Izukus's body didn't feel like his and his body couldn't stop thinking about Katsuki and his smirk and their childhood. The bullying and the smiles. They were just starting to get along. They were getting closer and now..now they would never have the chance to be friends. He heard a noise in the background and it took Izuku a moment to release it was him. Screaming at the top of his lungs. A heart-wrenching scream that cut off into sobs. The sounds were muffled by what felt like cotton in his ears. His throat stung with the pain of pushing his vocal cords. He was lost to how long he has been screaming and he didn't really care. A sense of rage was boiling in his gut as he stared into dead red eyes. Shigiraki was going to pay and Izuku would make sure of that. He would end his own life to make it happen. There was a cracking noise to his left and a danger sense went off in his head. he looked to the right and saw that same man he was swearing vengeance on coming into view. Izuku pressed his dirty glove to katsukis right cheek and brushed his finger gently over it. “I'll join you soon kacchan, I just have to finish stuff up here first”.

I know this probably isn't great and my grammar sucks! I just wanted to try out writing fanfic for once. I spend too much time reading them. Thanks for looking. Even if you didn't enjoy it.

#bakudeku fanfic #bakudeku #bnha bkdk #major character death #mha fanfiction #Bakugo katsuki/midoriya izuku

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n-v-ous · 2 years

Text

The World Of Your Creation

Woo fanfic time!

Orange.

My eyes stood wide open, unbelieving of what lay before me. Everything I’d worked to until this point came down to this moment, stranded in the open air, static clawing at my skin as my mind raced for a way to recover from pure shock. Suspended in the air along with me was an orange figure much like myself bearing a hollowed head, their eyes glowed an aggressive, vibrant lime green as they fixed onto me.

Green.

The last coherent thought I’d had was to look to the blue ‘skies’ above me, a familiar dread flooding my core as everything I’d known quickly washed away from me. In its place, excruciating burning pain ripped through my being. The burning had left my flesh feeling raw, which was made all the more apparent through the sensation of being thrown through the air at such high speeds I was unable to move or look around, even if there was anything to see, anything to do. The beam pulsed, another wave of pure unbridled energy, stronger this time, flinging me into the ground. My eyes had clamped shut, begging to drown out the light, the pain, anything; alas, the blinding rays pierced through, sending further stabbing pains that radiated everywhere I could feel. Thankfully, it wasn’t too long before I couldn’t feel at all.

Yellow.

Sometime, somewhere along the way, through my back being dragged across the rough terrain that broke around me, I had fallen numb - my nerves must have fried. My ears rang, my eyes bled, my entire body went limp. I hadn’t even noticed the apparent massive explosion around me, nearly leveling the mountain I’d ended in and causing a massive avalanche, effectively burying everything beneath it in rocks, dirt and dust. The green was gone, but the aftereffect had only just begun, scarring my eyes with a neon yellow that was impossible to drown out - more so than before. But I had no more pain to feel, no more care to give, no more life to live.

Black.

I’d felt everything around me begin to fade away, a sense of cool calmness washing over me as my vision closed, the ringing in my ears faded, the scent of disturbed earth long untouched died. A slow exhale left my lungs, and with it, my consciousness faded. Despite this, I never lost awareness of myself or anything around me. I felt myself suspended in pure nothingness. It had no appearance, sound, smell, taste or feeling. It was complete null and void; nothing existed around me, and hopefully, nothing ever would again.

There was something in my mind, a voice of reason unlike my own, that was able to translate everything around me. It gave me the awareness I had lacked my entire life, and most importantly, the awareness that this was the end of the line. The end of everything I’d known, everything I’d thought, everything I’d felt, none of it mattered anymore. My very existence was torn by the seams, leaving nothing remaining but a raging memory of who I once was. The voice gave me an awareness of myself, an objective retrospective glance into my thoughts, actions, beliefs, everything. Detailing and combing through my unpleasant truth, I had come to realize exactly who I was along with this voice. Violent, passionate, loyal, vibrant, abrasive, energetic, hard-working, egotistical and then some. What stuck out most of all to me was the blatant contrast of myself to my best friend - ex-friend? - that, under any other circumstances, would have driven us apart long ago. From the moment I was created, I was made to hate, to harm, to destroy them, and yet, for a long time I had never believed I could bring myself to do such a thing. The code still existed, the urges remained, the thoughts persisted, but I learned to overpower, overcome, and ignore.

Through the unpleasant memories, those of anger, sadness, misery and vengeance-fueled ignorance, my heart grew heavier with regrets, grief, and through the latest memories, fear of myself. My eyes were overtaken by pure black hatred, no longer thinking of consequences, logic, anyone - not even myself. Such a feeling that, had I survived through it, I was confident I would never be able to replicate. Going a little further back, when the idea of my ‘greatest creation’ came to me in the middle of the night as I lay in bed, staring at the sky above with a loathing grimace. Even to this moment, I understand my anger towards the people on the Outside, the people in the ‘real’ world. I was abandoned, my friend was tormented for almost five years, our lives had been built on a foundation of abuse and mistreatment. For the longest time, I had thought it to only be fair that those people pay for what they’ve done to me, to us, to everyone else who found sanctuary in the world we inhabited along with them. Now, however, I have brought no hatred into the other side. I cannot say all is forgiven, but I can say that, had I been given a chance, I would choose mercy upon them every time.

Through the pleasant memories, those of joy, laughter, wordless conversations and hours of just sitting in each others’ company, I felt as though I had been wrapped in a blanket of warmth. Our shared smiles comforted me, our inside jokes brought light to my mind, and for a moment, I had wished to go back. It would never be the same, I knew that. Perhaps it’s selfish, to desire to go back to a time long in the past, to erase everything that we’ve worked so hard to accomplish just for another laugh. Not that selfishness matters anymore. The warmth around me grew in intensity and simultaneously shrank in coverage.. It had felt like a hug. Just the night before the fight, we shared our last hug as we parted ways for the night. It felt like a distant memory, like it had happened years ago, or never at all. The comfort was gratefully accepted, I curled around the warmth and.. Wait, what?

I hadn’t even noticed the impossibility of this experience until I took a moment to think. I felt warmth, I felt content, I felt confusion, I felt my physicality, I felt real. It hadn’t even been that long that nothing existed, and yet this felt completely different to anything I had ever felt before, as though it’d been eons since anything. None of this made sense. There was an abstract beauty to the confusion, the astonishment of the simple concept of existing that may never cross someone’s mind in their entire lifetime, the wonder of being real and being somewhere in the world, even if the very world you exist in is no more than a fabrication of numbers, letters and indistinguishable lines that take years of study to decode - even if it’s not a reality for most, it’s a reality for me. For us.

White.

I opened my eyes. I had forgotten I could do that, and as soon as I did, a vibrant white bloomed into existence, completely phasing out any trace of the black nothingness that previously was in its place. Surprisingly enough, this flash of colour hadn’t scarred my eyes, instead establishing itself as the norm. It wasn’t everything - it wasn’t anything at all other than white, really - but it was something for a change of pace. The second thing I saw was my arm. It was a paler, lighter red than my usual intense red, but perhaps that was because of the white light around me. I felt the warmth around me begin to fade, but not as though I was getting cold, more like as if it was pulling away and leaving. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t try to find it, effectively stranding me in the abyss I’d found myself in. The absence hadn’t left me feeling alone, however. Come to think of it, isolation was never a feeling I’d felt; it had always been apparent in my mind that something - someone else was here with me, whatever or whoever that may be.

Yes, the warmth pulled away, but it stayed in front of me. I was able to move myself around to take a gander at my surroundings, before in front of me, where the warmth was, dark, almost black particles had started gathering around the warmth. The number of particles had formed an opaque charcoal colour before closing in on itself, forming the shape of.. Another figure. A figure much like myself as well, bearing a similar hollow head and height to me. They had also felt strangely familiar, like we had met long ago but the only memories we had remaining were faint echoes of what used to be. Their dark colour scared me for a moment, but the lighter tone to it assured me that Chosen remained out in the world, and that this was a separate person entirely.

“Welcome, Dark.” The figure spoke, not opening their eyes to look around anywhere at all. Their voice sounded like the equivalent to wind chimes, or a mourning dove - comforting in a nostalgic way that many cannot describe. Like a cool, early summer morning breeze that greeted you every time you step foot outside, but never had a name. I had tried to utter a response, and yet, my mind drew a blank when faced with this person. Unlike anyone I’d ever seen, and yet, the culmination of everything I’d ever known. I wanted, needed to say something to them, but my voice caught in my throat, my mouth remained agape, and nothing came out.

“You need not speak. I understand such changes can be hard to grasp for newcomers.” They assured, their voice gentle and caring as though they’ve done this millions of times before. “I’ve been here observing your thoughts for a while, I sincerely hope you do not mind. What an interesting character you are.”

So that’s why I didn’t feel alone; because I hadn’t been. Usually I would have been worried about judgment, the reason most of my thoughts remained thoughts, words remained unspoken. Despite this, the filter between thoughts seemed to be absent here. “I believe you’re ready to see the world around you. However, that decision can only be made by you. You can choose to stay here, careless and free with the company of your thoughts and memories, or, if you so please, you can open your mind and view the world around you, a world only open to those who can reach a certain level of awareness. This choice can be made at any time, and there is no right or wrong answer. Should you choose to remain here, and should you allow me to, I will visit from time to time. If at any point you choose to join me and the others in our world, simply call for me, and I will be right there waiting for you.”

They carried a security in their voice that I had not heard from anyone before, so kind and patient with me and the situation. It had felt as though they truly wanted what was best for me - for everyone around, and they were willing to wait as long as they needed.

I made up my mind, I wanted to see the world awaiting. I tried to say something, anything, struggling against my own vocal chords to produce any sort of noise, and yet, nothing could be said.

“Oh, are you unable to speak?” The figure asked, concern lacing the edges of their words. “There is no need to worry. Should someone arrive here under unfortunate circumstances, many carry ailments from their past. If you are unable to speak, projecting your thoughts to mine works just as well.”

The idea was alien to me, and yet, it seemed so simple. I closed my eyes and my face contorted mildly as I thought of my answer, a simple ‘yes’, and pictured the idea forcing through the barriers of my mind into the open air for anyone to hear. Upon reopening my eyes, the figure seemed to have recoiled slightly, regaining their former posture.

“Ah, my apologies. Usually newcomers take a while to get the hang on projecting thoughts, but you seem to have a firm grasp on it already. I am quite impressed, to be honest.” The figure had a small smile spread across their face. I can’t remember if it had been there before or not. “No matter, you said yes to seeing our world, yes?”

Projecting the thought, another ‘yes’, and the figure nodded lightly in response.

“Brilliant. You may want to close your eyes if you have had them open. I have been told this process can be quite bright.”

I closed my eyes tightly for a few moments in anticipation. Nothing around me seemed to have changed for the time my eyes were closed; no sounds, no feeling, no hint of light changing, nothing. I felt my curiosity and impatience get the better of me and take hold. Reluctantly, I opened my eyes barely into a heavy squint. The figure looked as though they’d taken a deep breath, their chest and shoulders falling into a relaxed slump. Another moment passed, and the figure spread their arms and opened their eyes wide, quickly. Their eyes were glowing a pure white, no definition between their sclera, iris’ or pupils. I quickly shut my eyes again, not wanting to risk losing my eyesight as well as my speech.

I felt a cool, heavy wind whip around me and the figure, the faint sound of the gusts rustling leaves and branches overhead drowning out other sounds. The flashing lights of our environment changing had started so subside, and yet, I couldn’t force myself to open my eyes. Perhaps it was out of fear, part of my mind not being ready to move on to a completely new world, a completely different life. Could you even call it ‘life’? We had all been dead, had we not? Why did this world exist? How many layers of worlds one can live in were there?

I was broken out of my spiraling thoughts from feeling myself begin to fall to the ground, only to meet soft, fluffy grass beneath me. My eyes snapped open from the surprise of sudden gravity, and I finally got the courage to look around and take everything in. The gass beneath us was a pastel green, soft to the touch and flowing gently to the remaining calm breeze that swept through the hills. I looked up, we were in a clearing of trees that bore soft leaves of pinks, purples, blues, greens and reds. The skies above us was a fade of oranges, pinks and reds, similar to that of a sunset. The clouds swirled around each other, creating almost cartoonish loops and waves that I never thought I would get to see with my own eyes. The soft chirping of birds rang through the forest around us, singing familiar melodies of songs I had known while I was alive. Everything had some sort of dream-like quality or twist to it that made it all seem unreal. But feeling the grass beneath my legs, the breeze on my back and the smell of freshly blooming flowers in the air told me all I needed to know; this was all very real.

“Do you like it?” The figure responded, snapping me out of my thoughts. “I hadn’t really known what you two would wish our world to look like, but I tried my best to make it look as welcoming and safe as possible.”

I nodded gleefully, but then caught the rest of the sentence they had said. ‘You two’? As in me and Chosen? ‘Do we know you?’ I projected to the figure, resisting the feeling of slight concern that tried seeping into the back of my mind.

“Do you not..?” The figure began to ask, their eyes reflecting a look of worry that seemed extremely familiar before shaking their head. “Ah, of course. I won’t lie, I was worried this would happen. Nonetheless, it doesn’t hinder our relationship much, we hadn’t known each other long.”

‘We’ve met?’ I asked to them, an expression of confusion overtaking.

“If only for a few minutes, yes. I am not entirely significant to your life, however, and I believe I understand exactly why you cannot remember me. It is not your fault.” The figure said. I tried wrapping my mind around what they were saying, trying to remember anyone that could have been them in my life. Unfortunately, my mind began to wander to the days shortly after me and Chosen had escaped, and I began to think the worst.

“Oh, no, not that.” The figure reassured, to my surprise. “You have not caused me any harm, my passing was not your doing.”

Relief washed over me, and my head fell back to look at the sky as a sigh escaped my lungs. The figure giggled quietly, moving a hand to cover their mouth. I looked back at them with a face of faux annoyance, and judging by their smile growing and their laughter becoming ever-so-slightly harder to stifle, I assumed they’d picked up on my sarcasm.

‘Well, what’s your name then?’ I asked, playing around with communicating tone via thoughts.

“Hm..” The figure thought to themself for a moment. A few expressions passed on their face, they were seriously debating something and it showed clear as day.

“Well, the people around here usually call me Vic. But for you..”

‘You don’t have to say if it makes you feel bad.’ I try to think, but I was unsure if the passiveness of my tone allowed the thought to pass through.

“Victim. You may know me as Victim.”

The name struck a chord, sending a strike through the center of my heart. It was deeply familiar, but I couldn’t figure out from where.

“̴D̸a̶r̸k̶?̸”̶

̴“̸Y̶e̷a̸h̶?̵”̶

̵“̵T̶a̵k̶e̴ ̶c̵a̴r̵e̶ ̶o̴f̷ ̵t̵h̵e̸m̶ ̵f̶o̶r̸ ̴m̴e̷.̵ ̷P̷l̴e̵a̵s̶e̵.̶”̴

A burning memory resurfaced from the deepest depths of my mind. The other voice had no person attached to it, I could hardly pick out their voice from the roaring noise of explosions and devastation behind them. The only gap of memory I had where I had completely forgotten a person was in that area.

Explosions..

‘Were you there when our computer wrecked?’

A simple nod in response. My shoulders sank as I realized what exactly had happened. How could an entire person’s existence just be erased? My heart began to burn. How is that fair?

Vic cleared their throat. “Well, no use in brooding about our pasts yet, right? You’ve got many places to see, many people to meet. I’m sure they’ll be excited to see you, I’ve only ever spoken in good name of you.”

Victim offered their hand to pull me up, of which I gladly took. Victim had noticeably floated into the air, fueling me with an eagerness I’d forgotten. My powers! If Vic can float, I must be able to fly as well, right? When I stood up, I found my footing on the grass - which was more difficult than in the living world where the grass had more friction - and held my hands down to my sides openly. For a few seconds, I tried to summon flames to my hands to blast into the air and fly along with Vic, but nothing came of it. I had the thought of taking a leap of faith into the air, but decided against it after feeling no heat whatsoever radiating from my core. I drew one of my hands into my line of sight and concentrated on any heat in my body I could, but alas, nothing. I looked up to Vic, who had been watching from a distance, slightly confused.

“Is something wrong?” They called, floating back towards me slowly.

‘I can’t use my powers here.’ I complained, a small frown growing on me.

“Ah, right,” Victim looked away sheepishly, “While I mostly trust you to not cause any trouble here, I still would like to take precautions to ensure the safety of everyone, including yourself. I’ve made it so, starting off, you will not have any powers to speak of. Over time, though, you will develop them, and eventually you’ll be able to use them with just the same efficiency as you did before.”

I think I would have been upset by the news had I been in the living world, but an unfaltering calmness lingered in the air, diminishing any anger I could feel. Instead, I shrugged, and caught up to Vic on foot.

“Call it a grounding exercise!” Vic chimed, floating alongside me. We began to travel out of the clearing in the forest together, me just following Vic’s lead as they lead me to where these supposed places and people I needed to see were.

It dawned on me that I hadn’t felt this secure in actual years. I think. Time did not seem to matter here.

#animator vs animation #alan becker #ava #ava the dark lord #ava tdl #ava victim #fanfic

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