#doctors i am getting treatment i would just like to confirm

[teiasviago]

the most frustrating thing about how people talk about anxiety disorders though is that whenever you search for information about them and read about symptoms they never mention secondary ones. like i am aware that i get the sweats during an anxiety attack, i would like to confirm that my hyperfixations are the result of my disorder and that i use them as a coping mechanism!!!!

[novashelby]

The Storm That Heals Us~ Tommy Shelby x Cancer patient!Reader: Angst

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warning: Triggering topic such as cancer

Word Count: 1,223

Summary: Tommy's wife is diagnosed with cancer and tries to hide it from him because they have a rocky marriage

This was requested by anon a while back. I hope it is okay. I don't do well with the topic of cancer

We’ve only been married a year. They say three is a lucky number. I was supposed to be the lucky number. But truth be told, nothing about our marriage had been lucky. In the midst of all his darkness, I was convinced he married me for emotional convenience. But when Tommy Shelby found out I wasn’t going to be walked on or over, we started fighting more. A hot head and one who hates to be wrong. It’s a bit tricky to figure out which one of us is which. Perhaps we are the same person and that is why we suck together. 

But that is not why it’s unlucky number three. Just last month I was bathing, feeling the warm soapy water encasing my body. When I dragged the sponge over my right breast, something seemed off. Something seemed tender and bruised. Quickly, I threw the sponge in water and felt around with my hand. There was a small lump, but nonetheless a lump. If I was anyone else, I would have assumed a pimple or swollen hair follicle, but I’m not anyone else. It’s the family curse. My great grandmother, my grandmother, my two aunts, and my mother have all found the lump. Thankfully for my mother, she was able to get it treated. But I am doomed for bad luck. That’s what Tommy tells me everytime something happens. “You have that fookin’ luck…that bad luck.” 

As soon I found that fucking lump, I went to the doctor only to get confirmation of what I already knew. I hate to say that the first thing that left my mouth was, “how long?” But the doctor sighed. They always sigh. 

He told me, “Well, it’s small. We’ll remove it and do some radiation treatment-”

“And lose my hair?” I also hate to say that was the second question, but Tommy loves my hair. Sometimes I think what he loves about me is thinning with each day.  

I never told Tommy about the procedure, and one night, when he went to run his hand over my body, I stopped him. It was as if I was repulsed by him. Just as I knew, Tommy didn’t take very kindly to my refusal. He sat up, looking at me before saying, “is this how our marriage is going to be now?” We sat side by side, under the covers on the bed. He replaced my breast in lieu of a cigarette.

“I don’t feel well,” I said, and his response made my blood boil. 

“You never feel well anymore,” he said. “I’m starting to think it’s me. Perhaps we should discuss something that will make you feel better.” There was always a tone of threat. He dealt with his lovers as he did his business partners. 

That was it for that night. 

Which brings me to now. The bathroom floor feels cold against my clammy body. I puked up my dinner which was nothing, but a few biscuits and a glass of milk. Milk is a no-no for my new stomach, I’ve learned. But as I’m on this bathroom floor, I realize. I realize that Tommy will know. He will figure it out. My body will thin out, I’ll be bruised, and my cheeks will sink in. Nevermind my hair that is already falling out in clumps. As I hear his footsteps approach, I try to gather myself to save face, but moving just makes it worse. My body feels like it’s on a merry go round, and I cling to the toilet once more. At this point, as I feel the burning acid climb up my insides, I don’t know what I am throwing up. It is a clear bile. 

As I am hunched over, Tommy walks in and asks, “are you pregnant?” Oh, how easy that would have been. 

I turn to him, face pale. I could see myself in the mirror. My eyes look sunken with heavy bags. “No.”

He sighs. “Have you seen a doctor?” he asks like I am dumb.

I’m blunt. “Yes.”

“Well?” he presses, coming inward, leaning on the bathroom vanity, puffing on his smoke. Always a smoke. Before I can answer him, I beg him to put it out.

“The smell, Tommy-”

“How far along are you?” he asks, disregarding the fact I told him I’m not pregnant. “Funny enough, love, we haven’t fucked in two months. Every night I wait for your comfort. Perhaps you’re going elsewhere for it-”

“I’m not pregnant, Tommy.” My head is boiling at this point and I feel my temper on the verge. I sit up, resting against the toilet, trying to catch my breath. He’s not convinced, I can see it in his face. How he’s half ignoring me. 

“You know,” he starts, pointing a finger my way. “I do fuckin’ love you. You married me, thought you understood the way I am-”

“Tommy,” I plead, closing my eyes. “Please.” But he goes on and on about how I betrayed his trust, but he still loves me and wants to work through whatever it is. 

“But that fuckin’ baby is going-”

“I’m not fuckin’ pregnant!” I yell at him in a tone I never dared to before. It was enough for him to get a bit startled. He is about to say something else when I say, “I found a lump on my right breast.” Tommy pauses mid-smoke, and looks over at me, eyes knitted. “A few weeks ago, maybe a month ago now…I don’t know. They ran a test-”

“You never told me,” he says in this low, depressing whisper that makes me feel like every problem in the world is my fault. Tommy finds his way to the bath basin and sits on the edges. He throws his lit smoke in the sink and runs his fingers through his hair. “And you never thought to tell me?”

“I didn’t want it to be another burden-”

“What?” He turns to me, face like a ghost. He slides to the marble flooring next to me. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to. I feel him tenderly grab me by the face, placing me in his lap. His chin rests on my head. “Fuckin’ ‘ell, love, I’m…love, you should have told me?” This was the Tommy I met and agreed to marry. The one who is tender and loving, smooth talking and sweet. I twist in his lap and his hand rests on my cheek. “I’m scared to ask-”

“It’s early enough,” I say, nodding, swallowing the lump down. “But it doesn’t feel any better-”

“No, no it doesn’t,” he agrees, leaning down to place a kiss on my forehead. “God, love, I love you so much. And I just…I've been so selfish. From now, you and I are going to go through this together-”

“Tommy, Tommy, please,” I whisper. “Just lets not act all weepy-”

“I’m not,” he protests, gripping my chin. “I’m taking care of you because if you have forgotten, I am your husband.” Yes, I have forgotten, but at this moment, I forgive it and soak up his affection. I need every inch of tenderness I can get my hands on. And so, I move on and relax into his words. “I love you.”

“Thank you, Tommy,” I say before quickly adding, “I love you, too.” 

[onlyseokmins]

$$60 billion (part 2) • l.s.m.

How did a legendary bounty promised for turning in the wasteland's most infamous outlaw transform into a sick, little inside betting joke amongst your traveling companions? Though you have no idea why they're doing it… you sure as hell don't want that very same gunslinger comrade worth sixty billion double dollars to know anything about it either — but oops — looks like he already does! Damn you and your temper, some unhelpful lip-loosening alcohol, and one no-good, sorry excuse of a preacher you sometimes think of as a friend.

Pairing: outlaw!lee seokmin x fem!reader Genres: smut (minors dni!), trigun!au, action!au, apocalyptic/post-apocalyptic!au, space western!au, slight enemies to comrades to ??? !au, angst, fluff, they're dumbasses your honor 🙏 Warnings: swearing, blood, guns, injuries, medical tingz, destruction, mentions of knives, violence, unsettling space western things, slight body horror and hints at altered dna, weird religious cults, mentions of eating/food, alcohol, threats, bets among friends, tame-ish alien/monster/plant sex (????? listen it'll make sense - think of him like howl's bird form on steroids idk), mating, possessiveness!, marking, bruising, jealousy, smelling/scent kink???, wet messy sex uwu, wing kink (??? listen i was gonna explore it more but decided not to ok??), BITING (bc it's me), mechanical/robotic fingering???, gagging, bulge kink, oral sex (explicit male receiving and brief fem. receiving), seokmin's dick is like SLOPPY TOPPY LORGE w/ a mind of it's own, lowkey forgot how to write smut sorry </3 WC: 13.2k of 32.7k | Part 1 | Read on AO3 A/N: this is for the Now that's 90's - A Seventeen collab and loosely based off/inspired by the Trigun anime/manga! You do not need to know it as I manipulated a whole lot of elements for my own narrative but beware of various spoilers if you do go ahead and check out the series after reading!! I hope everyone enjoys the conclusion and please check out the other writers in this amazing collab ❤️PS, I know nothing abt chess lmaooooo but let me know your thoughts and feel free to ask any questions regarding this au's intricacies!! This part might get a little confusing because of a flashback!! (starts right after the italicized paragraph and ends with "...in this moment...")

The silence is palpable.

"Does it hurt more to get stabbed in the back or shot?"

Only the continual rustling sound answers your philosophical question. Not that you actually care because you weren't really expecting a reply.

So, you keep talking.

"I think it would be more painful to get stabbed… but it would take longer to heal from a gunshot wound."

There's a brief pause in the motions behind you. But the quiet resumes, though the practiced skill of a needle threading through your skin quickens. While the local anesthetics Tonim's doctor supplied is doing its job for the most part, you swear you can still feel the tug of flesh being sewn together.

Or maybe you're just thinking too hard.

"Look. I'm… I'm sorry."

If tension could personify itself right at this moment, it would do so with ease, given how heavy its presence currently sits in the room. A low voice finally speaks up, gravely and roughened after such a long period of silence and the hairs on your neck rise.

"Are you really?"

"… Yes."

A heavy sigh — one burdened with all the worries of the world — follows. You wince and then tremble, wishing you could turn around. It's easy to guess what he's thinking but god, do you wish you could see his face to confirm. The fear of the unknown paralyzes you.

"I seriously am."

"Doubtful. I know you only asked me that question to subtly say you'll be okay and heal just fine but it's not that simple."

The callousness in his tone and the sharp way he says your first name makes you want to shrink down, shrivel up, and quite frankly die on the spot. Gritting your teeth, you succumb to the apparent silent treatment until the snip of scissors signifies your surgeon has finished treating you.

You think twice about your options upon hearing the click-clack of medical supplies being put back into the first aid kit. Then you think, "fuck it!", and use your good arm to keep the fabric of a spare t-shirt pressed against your chest and shift so you can face the man who just rather aggressively threw a handful of unused alcohol prep pads back into their designated slot.

"I'm super duper, utterly, and truly apologetic, Seok."

The gunslinger heaves another grand exhale of irritation. He doesn't even so much as glance at you, frowning sourly down at the roll of gauze in his hands instead. The temptation to reach out and touch him — soothe him — is strong but you decide against that (for various reasons) and resort to huffily pouting instead. Amazingly it seems to work, because he notices right away and folds way too easily without much of your sway, finally facing you with a reluctant but serious expression.

"Then what did you learn?"

Your gaze lowers, eyelashes fluttering while you drown in your feelings of shame and wrack your brain. The urge to toy with the silver chain around your neck is strong though you resist the tick and hesitantly answer instead.

"Um, that I need to fortify my mental block better?"

"Try again."

"Uh…"

"How about the way you're not supposed to play the hero?"

The tin of the trauma kit rattles as Seokmin slams his left hand down on the bed, leaning menacingly toward you. Though narrowed, his eyes seem to glow. You can't help but whimper at the intense ire dancing in those irises paired with his sharp tone. Like the desert's suns, it simmers and radiates off of him with rays of heat that you can easily feel given how close he is.

"I'm, I'm sorry!"

"No, you're not," he states sharply though the rigidness in his body relaxes after your squeak of another apology. "You almost died!"

You'd defiantly cross your arms if you could. "Between the two of us, you were most at risk of dying."

"Was not! And we both know my chances of injury are much, much lower than yours."

"You can't lecture me and flex your stupid powers this time! It's different 'cause Jihooon was fuckin' with my mind."

The harsh bitterness is more so directed at yourself and the damned Crimsonnail than Seokmin. But as usual, you vent all your frustrated emotions out on him, especially whenever he brings up the fragility of your mortality. You both stare stubbornly into each other's eyes, thinking back to what happened and what could've happened.

Lina's protected. The Tonim residents were all immobilized. Seungcheol, Seungkwan, and Mingyu are in good spirits. You are safe.

A burst of air rushes into Seokmin's lungs, relief filling him as he idly scans your figure for injuries. Casually reloading his revolver just in case, he beams as you approach. The mirrored expression of victory on your face accompanied by a hand reaching out causes his whole body to shudder in pleasure. There's nothing he'd like more than to intertwine his fingers with yours.

Instead, he settles for returning your enthusiastic fist bump. Nudging his shoulder against yours, Seokmin chirps out, "Good job, partner!"

"Partner?"

"Yeah, partners."

You shake your head like you can't believe him, amusement tilting up the corners of your lips. He wants to tell you everything, all of it. But his ears catch the faint click of a contraption behind him and he looks over his shoulder just in time to see Jihoon's crossbow assemble.

Joshua looks mightily displeased but makes no effort to put a stop to the Crimsonnail's actions. Seokmin can only thank his lucky stars that Soonyoung remains in a catatonic state. Dealing with a ginormous worm so soon after being in its stomach a couple days ago was not appealing in the slightest.

The fingers of his prosthesis splay out, cybernetic arm lowered and extended outwards in front of you as you turn around as well. He knows you hate unwarranted protection but you'll have to forgive his instincts this time. Nevertheless, he trusts you. And as Jihoon opens fire, Seokmin leaps into action, expecting you to do the same — only to do a double-take when you don't move despite a flurry of nails breaching the air.

Your eyes remain unfocused. Glazed over and cloudy, posture tense but still. He sneaks observatory looks your way from afar while firing Geranium. Round after round, breaking nail after nail to prevent any harm befalling you. A maniacal laughter rings out and Seokmin freezes, putting two and two together.

Then he snarls.

Jihoon must've sicced his killing intent — a nasty ability to project and create illusions of destruction in someone and break their will — on you. Cursing, he starts making his way closer to you, inwardly reaching out to you and begging that you'll break free of the blonde-haired man's clutch on your psyche.

You're obviously more than capable. He knows this. But your movements are sluggish, slowly releasing Sirocco from your grasp. The empty pistol lands on the sand with a muffled thud and Seokmin's pretty sure his heart mimics it. A look of terror and horror spreads across your facial features, surely subject to something awful within the confines of your own mind.

And while you're experiencing visions of things you fear coming true, he's stuck in the vivid reality where they do.

You spin around with a wild look in your eyes — full of rage and anguish. He stumbles back as you teeter one foot at a time toward him and in the distraction, a nail pierces right below your shoulder blade.

Someone wails behind him.

You scream.

Seokmin rushes forward. But he's tackled suddenly to the ground and ends up flat on his back. Completely winded and left with his vision smarting, blinking in confusion at the blurry double halos that definitely shouldn't be around the duo of suns in the sky.

Then your face comes into focus. And god, forget the suns — in all your glory and in all your fierceness, you shine brighter than them all combined — hallucinations be damned.

It takes a bit of wrangling around, given how you try to wrestle and pin the man down. The clunky gun you're waving around goes off several times, harmlessly lodging bullet holes into the sand cushioning around Seokmin's head.

"Stop it, you're gonna hurt yourself!"

Moving and lashing out like a wild animal before it's fully sedated, his words don't come through the hellish haze Jihoon's trapped you in. You pull the trigger with no regard for the injury to your shooting arm.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

He dutifully counts each round fired, multitasking between that and the effort it takes to contain your struggling movements. Once again, thanks to the overpowered strength of his prosthetic, the man's finally able to sit up with you secured in his arms to cease any further movement.

"Lovely, lovely mayfly," he murmurs. The stable cybernetic hand gently feels around the impaled shoulder while a trembling thumb rubs your abnormally chilled cheek. "C'mon and snap out of it, pretty."

Not a spot of recognition in your blank glare. His eyebrows furrow as cold metal presses in between them. Seungcheol is cursing, Mingyu and Seungkwan are shouting loudly. Jihoon gloats.

But none of that matters. Seokmin drowns all of it out by diving in the pooling depths of your empty irises. Searching, calling, begging. Biting his lip, he delivers a quick slap and pleads, "Come back to me, love."

And like a mist that rises after dawn, you return to him. Your stunned grip on the gun falters, the final bullet rattling in its chambers. The pained expression on your face slices open his own heart but its shredded form takes flight in utter relief.

You're back. You're going to be okay — he'll make sure of it. And even if you don't know it, you're his and he's yours.

"Y-you're dead," you choke out and all he can do is smile despite feeling like he's on the verge of crying. Elation, anger, guilt, hope, longing, worry, joy — all of it turns and tosses within him like a rustling flurry of winged creatures struggling to break free.

So, he smiles at you and grasps the barrel of the old pistol aimed at his forehead. "I know, mayfly."

Jihoon howls in fury. Joshua finally steps forward, striking a military pose with his hands behind his back. Composed as ever, his voice remains its deceptively sweet self compared to the harsh jerking movements he's subjected upon the gray-eyed man via telepathy.

"You've crossed the line, lost number thirteen."

"Don't call me that!"

It's no surprise that the pecking order in Dokyeom's henchmen sowed seeds of dissent. Though Joshua was simply a right-hand man, he remained the only unnumbered member, proving the lack of disposability DK saw in him versus the others.

"Know your place."

"Which has always been at the top! But because of you — !"

" — The top of those already at the bottom, perhaps. Respect your superiors and your orders, Crimsonnail. You were not to lay a hand upon Master Dokyeom's brother. Ever."

"I didn't!"

"Or a member of his little group." His indifferent gaze swept over Seokmin protectively cradling your body. "This voids our involvement and nullifies any further implementations of the game."

Joshua would thank his lucky stars that the humanoid typhoon is letting them leave scotch-free if he was a decent man. Unfortunately, he's not — already considering what punishment to enact upon Jihoon per his master's orders. The Crimsonnail feels a shiver down his spine, further enhanced by Joshua's frosty, disdainful look of disapproval as he telepathically drags Jihoon to the car.

Still, it's a good thing Seokmin's a pacifist by nature, that he's more preoccupied by your well being than anything else. Your brow begins to bead with sweat, the pain of your wound finally sinking in past the adrenaline rush wearing off. Black circles dance in your blurring vision, the gun falling from your grasp as you droop forward and rely on the unerring sureness of his support and the safety within in it.

Seokmin knows he needs to get you medical help right away, and it's the only thing he can focus on. There's no time for exchanging a blow with a blow nor the faintest idea of revenge.

Not yet. Not now. Maybe never if it means putting you in harm's way.

Was he really going to give up following the bloody trail to hold his brother accountable for the unspeakable crimes he's committed? Throw away the blank ticket Rem spoke about? All for one person?

The questions all swirl around in his head like a nebulous mass. And like a newborn star — one that's been long in the making — the answer is crystal clear and shining bright as you sit in front of him now looking devastatingly beautiful to him despite all that's happened. Most importantly, you're safe.

But all he can say in this moment aloud is, "I'm sorry."

For a multitude of reasons. So many of them. You seem to spot something in his eyes, frowning ever so slightly.

"You don't have to apologize for anything. I'm fine."

"I almost lost you."

"But you didn't."

"…I know. And I'm so fuckin' glad."

Seokmin runs his fingers in a distressed manner through dusty, matted strands of reddish-brown strands. Immediately drawing attention to the dirt, grime, and dried blood coating and dulling the cybernetic's buzzing glow.

"That's gonna be a pain in the ass to clean."

He appreciates the subject change, shooting you a lopsided grin. "Yeah, tell me 'bout it."

"Let me help."

You get up before he can protest. A tactical way to coerce him into worrying about helping you rather than arguing. The coy part of yourself is applauding the method, especially when the calloused flesh of his palm splays against the bare skin of your lower back in the name of support as you both walk to the bathroom.

That same part whispers naughty temptations to drop the t-shirt covering your chest, press up against him, and see his reaction. But your reasonable, reserved side is too held up on various other matters to give in.

Sadly, you find out you can't offer as much assistance as you would've liked. But Seokmin seems heartened by just seeing you up and about and close to him. Plus, you make use of your idleness while he washes in the sink by reaching for the few stocked amenities you can reach with your good shoulder above it when he asks for them. And you receive a heartfelt smile in return.

"I probably should've just showered."

You shrug. "You still could."

"Nah, it's fine, I can do it later. What about you, though? You're going to need help with those stitches."

"What a roundabout way to say you want to bathe together, Seok. You could've just asked."

Maybe you expected him to splutter nervously or protest fiercely at the tease. You certainly don't expect him to just shake his head — silver earring flashing in the vanity's dull lighting — and chuckle.

"I'm being serious, goof. Besides, it's not the first time I've seen you in the tub."

"What?" you squawk and his grin doesn't falter. In fact, it turns into a smirk.

"I'll go get Sherry. Lina's gonna want to see you too, she wouldn't stop crying about her pretty savior getting hurt."

You frown. Was he still going to dodge The Talk™? And did he think you were really just going to him out of your clutches that quickly?

"We still need to chat. You promised."

His eyes flash. "… And you don't like promises."

Yes, that was exactly why. He knew your history. Still, you refused to back down.

"No, I don't. But I like you… and, and most of all, I trust you. I just want the truth, Seok. Even if you think it'll hurt me, at least be honest. Trust me back. I promise it'll make it less painful if you tell me why you thought I wasn't serious. So, please…"

Don't let me down.

It's unspoken, but he can clearly hear it in your tone. A battle-worn sigh escapes so you try to lead him and finish with a question where he can give a more straightforward answer.

"… How long have you known? About the bet, I mean."

Despite wavering between semi-alertness and bordering the edge of losing consciousness, you're aware of Sheryl's presence as she bustles around with Seungkwan and Mingyu to clear out an empty room above the saloon temporarily used for patients. Seungcheol waits outside the door with you two, a cigarette loosely dangling from his lips.

When Sheryl leaves, she sneaks a peek at the way your face buries into Seokmin's neck, how the man carefully assesses the rest of your body for injuries. His touch is gentle, the cybernetic arm coated in blood as it holds the nail in you steady. He'd been adamant about being the one — the best one — to treat you. Smiling, she hands Seungcheol a couple of double dollars and the pastor raises an inquiring eyebrow.

"For that little game of yours," the woman whispers knowingly and gestures to the two who just exited the room and Seokmin hurriedly heads inside. "They told me all about it."

You lift your head to glare at Seungcheol and then your other comrades as you pass, wondering if this was some sick form of revenge for pulling one on him and if Sheryl was so keen to set you up with someone in the same way pompously done for her. But your shoulder feels like it's on fire so rather than reprimand your stupid, back-stabbing friends and slump back wearily against Seokmin.

He's a simple man who certainly can't hide a silly smile at the unconventional snuggling. Lifting his chin, he then tilts his head questioningly to the money in Seungcheol's hands. "You're still doing that bet?"

"Haf'ta win the lasses 'n hopeless romantics over 'n have 'em rootin' fer ya."

"Y-you know about the bet?"

Seokmin hushes you with a low murmur, words muffled by the press of his lips to the crown of your head. You can't make out what he says, but the timbre is soothing enough that your eyes close.

"Gotta make that sixty billion somehow if we're not turnin' ya ass in."

"Fair enough!" The wanted man laughs and closes the door with his foot.

His cheerful demeanor then dropped to focus on the proper procedures to treat your wound and that's when the silence settles in, soon followed by the weighing air of unresolved tension between you. And now, you're continuing the determined path to fully speed-run ahead and break it, though he shrugs nonchalantly at the question.

"Known for a while, to be honest."

"Seriously? I thought it was a secret!"

"C'mon, you know how bad Cheol is at keeping them."

"Yeah, right," you roll your eyes. "That man takes things to the grave — literally!"

"You're too hard on him." Seokmin leans toward you, bracing himself with an arm supported by the sink and brown eyes sparkling with humor. "Think about how much you've learned about him."

"Against my will, too much…"

"Which means I'm right."

"… I guess you do make a fair point."

"Of course. He's a completely open book once you peel back that damn protective hardcover of his."

Still, you sniff disdainfully and frown. "I swear, you're the only one who sees him like that."

"Like what?"

"Like…. unafraid, unconcerned, unbothered by all that he is, all that he's done, et cetera."

"Why not? He's done the same for me. Besides, I've said it before but he has those eyes, you know. Kind."

Ah, and that's what gets you to resign with a small grin. It's just like Seokmin to see only the good in people.

"And you're not all that different," he continues with a broad, knowing smile. Immediately you bristle and he clarifies, "from me." Some part of you momentarily wonders if you spoke your thoughts aloud or if he just simply knows them that well. "As loath as you are to admit it, you care for him. Most importantly, you trust him."

Though your face sours at the thought, you don't retort right away. Sure, Seungcheol is a trusted ally. And maybe the motivation to free Jeonghan from the control of the Eye of Joshua wasn't solely because it was simply the right thing to do. But also because it might brighten the dull spark and leave one less bloodstain on the hand of a man who bore the burdensome weight of all sins like a cross on his shoulders.

Then you wave away those thoughts for now. "So, is that why you thought I wasn't serious on how I feel about you. 'Cause of the bet?"

"No, because I never knew the full extent of it. But… if you're saying it had to do with your feelings, then I would have to say yes — though I find it hard to believe any bet's worth my bounty."

"Oh." Your cheeks heat at unwittingly giving it away.

Seokmin smirks when you avoid his gaze, and he moves in even closer. "No one has sixty billion double dollars just lying around, mayfly."

"You're just saying that so no one turns you over to July."

"Well, you won't do it, will you?"

"You don't know that," you fire back, intending to heighten your defenses that only weakly falter because you're still not looking at him.

"But I do."

"Yeah? Prove it!"

Ooh, a challenge.

And one more step closer.

"Because you care too much about the man you like to put him behind bars."

Your eyes dart back to meet his, ready to squint reproachfully only to widen at how the gunslinger's face is only a breadth away from yours. Breath hitching, you desperately want to whine out in irritation but it comes out in a low whimper. Seokmin's canines flash in the bathroom's dim lighting.

"That's not, that's not fair." The wall pressing into your bare back keeps you from retreating and the hand keeping the t-shirt covering your chest feels how your heartbeat speeds up. Your skin is on fire, only the cool temperature of your locket and its chain preventing you from utterly exploding after the plaintive admission of, "You already know everything. But…"

"But…?"

The unconscious action of biting into your lower lip only gets realized by the way it keenly draws Seokmin's eyes. Electric blue flashes against brown irises yet they darken to almost black with the sudden thrill of desire that rises to the surface. He's so close, you can feel his breath caress your face, and you swear you hear it deepen into a low grunt before he raises a brow for you to continue.

"But… b-but I don't know…a single… thing."

Seokmin has forever believed Rem's take regarding the ticket to the future always being blank. For him, it's always been an unknown path forward that he's let lead him wherever and to whatever destination.

He holds himself back, just enough to utter the (practically what should be unneeded) words of reassurance, "It could only ever be you — and it's always been only you — that I could be in love with so much, mayfly," and then he's eliminating the meager distance between the two of you. For the first time, he stamps that blank ticket with an assuredness of the future and outcome he's never had before — with a kiss.

Cradling the back of your head with his cybernetic prosthesis, the other cups your cheek and then trails down to your collarbones — but no further than appropriate. His mouth, though, disregards the very notion. A teasing tongue repeatedly runs across your bottom lip to smooth out the indents caused earlier by your teeth then naughtily pokes and prods its way between, eliciting a sweet gasp from you he absolutely devours.

Your whole body shudders with happiness, eagerly surrendering to the man's wild, possessive fervor as he passionately steals the breath out of your lungs and stakes his claim on you by leaving behind shiny kiss-bitten lips. Seokmin only draws away, panting, to admire his handiwork, light-headed and dizzy with delight.

"I love you," he reconfirms with his forehead resting against yours and nose tickling your own, "… partner."

Breathlessly, you joke back after placing a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. "Love you too, partner."

And that was that.

With your shoulder injury on the mend and the other members of your little ragtag group nursing their own bumps and bruises, you all decided to spend one more night in Tonim — much to Lina's delight. While she merrily bounced from one 'hero' to the next, you playfully reminded Wonwoo that he still owed you some free drinks. You were eager to take advantage of the fact and he was more than willing to accommodate.

The tavern that originally held a subdued, slightly hostile air to it when you first arrived was now filled with an unfettered joyous harmony. You're so easily swept up in the ambiance of such high spirits and jubilant townsfolk as mug ales filled to the brim get passed around and clinked together, you fail to notice Seokmin's sudden withdrawn nature.

Not until the next morning do you first realize something's off.

"You're sure about this?"

"Oh, no. Not you too, Seok."

You'd already flipped off and shoved away a complaining, terribly hungover Seungcheol and finally got rid of the watchful, fretting gazes of Seungkwan and Mingyu. The duo had been hovering around you with concern ever since you downed a full glass of alcohol last night. While you generally just let them be and were quite thankful not to wake up with a pounding headache, you certainly weren't above crushing all of Mingyu's pudding cups if he meekly asked one more time if you were okay or needed help.

Seokmin leans against the open door frame as you pack. The pulsating glow of lost technology flickers in your peripheral and keeps you aware of his quiet presence. Part of you had always wondered if the ever-running currents of lighting synced with the flow of blood through the rest of his body.

The gunslinger doesn't speak, and you wonder why. And though you'd like to flatter yourself and entertain the notion that he's watching you — while other times that may be true — you don't feel the weight of his eyes trained on your motions. It wasn't like there was much to stuff in your bag, the satchel's leather cracked, faded, and well-worn after all these years of use through the desert and everything you truly value remains strapped some way to your body. So once you're finished, you inquisitively peek over in his direction.

Brown eyes are trained on the clunky gun on the mattress — the same one you'd pressed against his head. It's also the exact same pistol Chan had spent his adolescence restoring and repairing. Left unnamed unlike the honorary grave Seokmin had helped you prep before leaving the ruins of Ivywood behind. Meanwhile, his gaze darts to linger in contemplation on the chain around your neck before his eyebrows furrow, emphasizing the drawn out features and dark circles beneath his eyes.

"You look tired, you doing okay?"

"Yeah, just haven't been… sleeping well."

Frowning, you step toward him. Although he doesn't back away, his entire posture stiffens. "Will you be able to make the journey?"

He snorts, gesturing to your shoulder you're trying not to move too much. "Isn't that what I'm supposed to be asking you?"

"I'll feel better at the border."

Seokmin nods understandingly. "The weather will align well."

Within the sandstorms that relentlessly swirl near the Melca Border Sea of Sand, hides the only SEEDS floating ship that survived the Great Fall and you have to get the timing just right to reach it. It's home to a large community of humans, and most importantly, it's what you would consider a true home to you and Seokmin. Already, your energy restores — excited at the prospect of getting to relax in a place you trust and people you truly enjoy being around.

"Jun can take a look at my shoulder."

"That's true, it would be good for him to do."

"And I'm sure Hao's going to want to check your arm, maybe fashion some fabric that's not only bulletproof but also nail-proof."

"He's gonna give us both a scolding."

"Wouldn't be the first time."

You share a look of fond chagrin. Even though Seokmin's well over a century older than Juhui and Minghao, they were direct Earth descendants aboard a ship full of lost technology and geniuses in their own right. Those facts alone gave them all the confidence and utter audacity to more often than not, act like fretting toma mothers over the two of you.

Nonetheless, you appreciated them with all that's remaining of your heart.

The trip to the Melca Border wasn't a straight shot from Tonim but it wasn't as far as you thought. A bittersweet farewell to Wonwoo, Lina, Sherry, and the rest of the townsfolk was to be expected. Though their sorrow weighed you down, the knowledge that you were parting from them with good memories and the expectations to visit again kept your steps light-footed.

Seokmin remains zoned out the entire time. You bulk it up to his normal reaction whenever something emotional was on the horizon. Returning to Melca held a grand spread of wonderful, warm memories with a scattering of dreadfully sad ones too. Though the floating ship's defenses have been bolstered to the max over the years, the terrible events weren't easy to forget.

But they were incidents in the past and it's thanks to the intellect of the two who greet you at the entrance of the ship that their defenses continue to improve. Luida proudly stands behind them, accompanied by Brad and his wife.

"Greetings, weary travelers."

"We're no strangers, Luida," Seokmin protests against her formality.

The elderly leader's playful grin smooths out the wrinkles lining her wise face. "Welcome home, children."

It's a simple phrase but one that fills you with inexplicable warmth. Hansol might be the son born of her own body, but no one is immune from her maternal instinct. She beckons for everyone to come inside where the main quarters lie and the growing crew population will certainly be enthusiastic upon hearing about your return.

Seungcheol, Mingyu, and Seungkwan trail after without fuss, also elated to be aboard the familiar floating ship. You smile with genuine delight and step forward to follow while Minghao takes one look over his wire-rimmed glasses to survey Seokmin's dusty figure and elegantly tilts his head knowingly in the hallway leading to the technology laboratory. Glittery, colorful beads woven through the long strands of his two-toned hair clink in time with the movement.

It's hard to hide the snicker that escapes as you watch Seokmin trudge after Minghao like a scolded puppy. Your glee at someone else's suffering doesn't last long when a gentle hand clasps your shoulder. Wincing at the pain, you meet Junhui's puzzled look before his eyes narrow.

"You're hurt," he says, disappointed but not surprised, and leads you away to the med bay. It's exactly what you expected, in fact, the main reason behind why you're here — and yet, you sulk and whine petulantly just because you can.

"Not my fault that the only way to get here is by timing everything right to jump into a sandstorm and then onto a flying platform."

After instructing you to lie down on the medical bed and cutting the fabric of your shirt without fanfare, Junhui clicks his tongue. "You only come to visit when you're hurt."

"Not true!"

He concentrates on disinfecting and resewing the torn stitches in the tender flesh around the parts of your wound that are still healing. His tone borders on slight resentment but the concern weighing in it smoothes it all over.

"And yet most of our time spent together is only when you visit so I can patch you up."

"It's not like that."

"I know… but I would've met you elsewhere."

"Boring."

"Can't you courteously pretend to care about yourself out of consideration for those who worry?"

"You'll go gray at such a very young age if you stress all the time, Jun."

He shakes away silver bangs that threaten to impede his vision, unamused. "And you'll end up buried under the sand next time."

"Sounds cozy."

"I swear —"

You wave his growing ire away. "Seok takes care of me just fine."

"Yes," Junhui's cat-like smile causes your metaphorical hackles to raise. "He does care deeply about you."

"I'll punt you into the fifth moon and give it a second crater with your body."

"Now, now… violence is never the answer."

"Violence is the only reason you have a job!"

If you weren't as close as you were, perhaps he'd be offended by your claim. Instead, he kicks you out (after ensuring you're indeed in relatively good health), leaving you to laugh victoriously. Then, you set off to the technology lab in good spirits, hoping to catch Seokmin and commiserate with him.

Instead, you find a lone Minghao sitting refinedly amongst all the tech with grace and poise. He was in his element. Fiddling with and poking at a well-worn, familiar cybernetic tech with a thin silver instrument, he simply raises an eyebrow to acknowledge your presence.

"Did you fit Seok with a new arm?"

"But of course," the man sighs wearily, "despite my best efforts, my darlings always return home to their father with quite a beating."

"… Then you'll hate what I'm about to tell you."

"No, I cannot fashion you a pierce-proof trench coat. However, I will acquire some stronger material… but there better not be a next time."

You purse your lips and pout. It often seemed like Minghao worried more about his inventions than the people using them, though you knew that to ultimately not be true.

"So, he already told you what happened."

"Oh, yes… he told me everything." Heterochromatic eyes suddenly meet yours, sharp with a spark of amusement. "See, I almost didn't want to give him the latest modification but…"

"But…" You repeat warily.

Junhui was always mischievous, though most of it only ended with harmless pranks. On the other hand, Minghao's sarcasm-filled humor rarely made an appearance, and when it did, it usually delighted in the sickest of satisfactions.

Yet, he simply shrugs, evasive as always. "I think you'll like its improvements."

There's something foreboding about that statement, but he ushers you away under the pretense that he needs to concentrate. And shortly, you find yourself stopped by curious passersby or familiar faces in the hallways to the main quarters. Since your last visit, a multitude of passengers have a lot to share and update you on. By the time you reach your own pod, you're socially exhausted.

Sleep came easy but finding Seokmin did not. The SEEDS ship was already big in the first place and additional construction enlarged it further. An itchy, achy feeling pooled inside your gut on the second evening you'd been unable to catch sight of him. Finally, you acknowledged the bitter truth — he was avoiding you.

You had to come to terms with how delusional it was to think that once everything was out in the open, the scattered puzzle pieces would magically fall together in their rightful places. It should be easy, right? It's what happened in those cheap novels Junhui dug out of an abandoned pod in Melca back in the day. He'd given them to you as a birthday joke — Minghao sighing and handing over your real present (the first bullet-proof trench coat) — but you'd actually read through all the cheesy, steamy piles of romantic drivel.

Seungkwan, ever the cynic, and Seungcheol — who's naturally a heathen — quickly destroyed the slim spark of hope of ever hoping to feel those flutters in your gut. Meanwhile, Mingyu was someone precious and wholesome with a romantic outlook on life underneath the great muscular physique he'd gained from carrying that heavy concussion gun around.

You often wondered why they never tormented him like they did to you. But despite his indomitable stature, the emotionally soft man's tears were the most powerful weapon in his arsenal. Even if he didn't quite realize it, his comrades certainly were aware.

And Seokmin… well, if you knew how Seokmin felt about romance, you wouldn't be stuck in the position of wondering why the fuck he was avoiding you.

Again.

"Where is he?"

"Good morning," Mingyu greets the following morning, cheerful as ever. "If you're still hunting Seokmin for sport, he said he's feelin' a little sick!"

"Sure."

"No, he really is." Seungkwan refutes your aggressive eye roll with a gentle shake of his head. "Loverboy hasn't come out of his room for days and when I almost knocked the door in earlier, he finally responded only to sound like a dying toma."

Your face contorts into a morbid combination of concern and irritation, shifting between the two expressions. "Probably 'cause he stayed out all last night!"

And with a dramatic huff, you glower at the pastor seated in the cramped corner of the floating ship's kitchen area. Seungcheol deemed it was cooler, darker, and the farthest spot in the enclosed space from any of your misplaced wrath. He smiles, the white stick between whiter teeth jollily flicking up and down at you, taunting.

He reveled in the knowledge of being safe since he'd been the only one able to provide any information on the humanoid typhoon's whereabouts. The pastor — who still enjoyed a late-night smoke to cure some of his insomnia — considered it his saving grace to catch sight of the fellow gunslinger slinking through the shadows in the halls. Apparently, Seokmin had been sneaking outside the past few nights and remained resolutely ever-elusive during the day.

"Should go see 'im. Yer all antsy and 'm bettin' he's missin' his… mayfly."

"Oh, go fuck yourself," you snarl and storm out, missing the man's bark of laughter before he continues contemplating the best way to siphon money during a confessional.

The unfaltering stomp of your combat boots is the background beat on your walk to Seokmin's pod. His halls aren't far from the kitchen area and yet each footfall feels like a step into the unknown, the lights above seeming to grow dimmer the closer you get.

Why was he acting like this?

Did he regret everything that happened between you?

Was something wrong?

Would he shut himself away from you?

Worry and anger swirl together, mirroring the vortex of sand you had to pass through to get here. Seokmin's never shut you completely out before but you're familiar with his reclusive acts when things get too much. Too close. Too emotional. And you're afraid to be the catalyst to another spiral.

So, you knock. Harsh, loud, and ultimately unforgiving if ignored.

"Seokmin, open up! I know you're alive!"

A mutter of "Barely," carries through the door before he clearly answers with a curt, "I'm not feeling well but I'll be fine."

"Open the door."

Silence.

"Please."

The silence continues — and your temper flares. "Don't make me go get my bag and grab my lock-picking set!"

You can hear sounds of cursing and some rustling around before the door slowly and reluctantly opens, Seokmin hiding in the shadow it casts.

"As you can see, I'm quite fi —"

Both a coughing jag and the firm push of your shoe interrupts his confident statement. "Sure hope you weren't about to say you're fine!"

A faint smoky scent permeates the pod. You cough and pause to let your vision adjust to the darkness. The first hint toward Seokmin's unusual behavior because he thrived in the sunlight, no matter how weak the sunrays that reached the floating ship were. Then second, you blink in wonderment at the black heaps littering the bed and floor.

Feathers. Everywhere.

Reminiscent of the time you'd broken Seungcheol's ridiculously expensive pillow against Mingyu's bulky bicep during a good-natured fight with Seungkwan's assistance. But instead of an explosion of brown and aqua toma plumage causing you all to sneeze, these were inky dark like the night sky and resembled piles of soot against the pod's stark white backdrop.

You whirl around to find Seokmin retreating to the corner of the room, hands slamming on top of the dresser for support. His back is to you with two thin wings jutting out from it. Feathers rustle as he pants, shoulders coinciding up and down with the motion of the wings.

"Seok, how did… how did this happen?"

It's not fear that causes your voice to tremble but worry. The appearance of his natural Plant form is no longer shocking. In fact, the more you see it, the more you find it eerily beautiful. Probably similar to those who believe them to be messengers of a higher power. But he's only ever transformed in dire situations — either due to stress or the rare exhaustion of his superhuman abilities against stronger foes.

He doesn't reply so you take a cautious step forward. An animalistic growl erupts from his throat, followed by a pained groan. You gasp as he shakes, protrusions rupturing from the lower parts of his shoulder blades. Two more wings burst out and unfurl below the trembling ones already quivering on his back.

So that's how they hide and reappear.

"Is it 'cause you're sick? Choi said you've been staying out all night. You could've caught a cold or something's in the air. Never know what's floating around here." You babble as you frantically search for signs in the mirror above the dresser for any hints to what's caused this.

Seokmin's bent over and you note what should be brunette roots of hair are now pitch-black too. Closer and closer you creep until you can make out each bead of perspiration trickling down his neck and how they coat every bare part of his body in a sheen of sweat.

Then his head snaps up. An eye — unshielded by the black fringe of his red-brown tipped bangs — narrows to glare into your widened ones. A tempest of electric blue rages within it. Like the hottest type of fire, it burns more than you could ever expect in a vortex of one prominent emotion.

Desire.

An involuntary shudder overtakes your whole body, and you unconsciously bite your lip. Seokmin slumps back down, granting respite from that ardent azure glow.

"Sick," he snarls and laughs, strained. "Sick in the head, that's for sure."

"How… how can I help? What can I do for you?"

"Get out."

"Seok —"

"I'm serious, mayfly. For your own good. Leave."

"My own good?"

"I'll, hah, I'll explain… explain it later."

Your arms cross. "Oh, really? Or will you avoid me again? Like you have been for the past several days?"

"I haven't —"

"Don't you dare feign indifference! I'm not stupid — we talk about our feelings and then you retreat. Just be honest with me… please."

You promised.

He sucks in a very deep inhale through clenched teeth, seeming to regret it instantly because his grip on the edge of the dresser is hard enough to crack the strong material. Glowering at your reflection again — not daring to acknowledge your very real and extremely close presence in the room — Seokmin bares his sharpened and widened incisors in a snarl.

"We will talk, mayfly, please believe me. Now's… hah… just not great timing with… with what's happening."

Irritation easily gives way back to worry. "At least tell me what I can do for you. Should I get Jun?"

"He can't do anything. Gotta just… work it out of my system."

"Work what?" You frown, knowing how rare it is for the medical specialist to be stumped.

"It's not for certain…" Four different wings flutter in agitation at various speeds. "Not a lot's known about Plant physiology," his mouth turns downward, "even I don't have a thorough understanding."

"Is it a disease?"

"Wish it was that simple."

"You're talking in riddles and running verbal circles, Seok."

"… Dokyeom and I are independent Plants. Likely the only ones, well, you know — still functioning. Alive. When Rem found us, research was obviously done."

You know the story very well and nod. "And had been conducted before."

"'Course thanks to Rem, it wasn't as invasive but there were, hah, occasional talks. Theories. And then, of course, before us twins, there was…"

"… Tesla."

A Plant with a lifespan of only two-hundred and thirty days.

Seokmin swallows. "Tesla. Yes. I recall bits and pieces. Hypothesized with Luida and company… Outside of Dokyeom following the unethical methods humans sometimes conduct for experimentation," he snorts at the irony, "it's thought that Plants… can copulate… with a mate… of their, hah, choosing."

"Really?" Your eyebrows raise, intrigued. "That's a brilliant discovery!" Then they furrow. "Wait, are you saying that this," you wave your hand to gesture at his current form, "is because… you're, er, ready to… mate?"

He holds his head. "… Yes."

"Oh, okay. So, you need like… relief? A mate? Should I…?"

Your questions hang uncertainly in the air, unfinished because you're really not sure what you're supposed to even offer. A sarcastic smirk graces Seokmin's lips, condescending in the sort of way that's aimed more at himself.

"What kind of man do you think I am, mayfly?"

"A very, uh, Planty one for sure."

"Better than leafy, I suppose."

"Though you are quite… feathery."

Finally, he turns toward you, a wry and defeated smile on his weary face. His wings stretch outward and curl back in, elegantly waving toward you as if drawn in your direction. You can't help but smile at the object hanging from a cord around his neck.

"You still keep that old thing around?"

He looks at the golden cartridge and chuckles. "It's special."

"Me holding a gun to your head was special?""Meeting you will always remain a treasured memory, no matter the manner of how it happened." Seokmin falls quiet, lost in thought before hesitantly asking, "Did I not mention Plants mate for life? Well, at the very least, I know I do."

"Oh." Your astonishment reveals itself in a breathless gasp. There's no escaping that all-consuming, fiery cerulean gaze. "So is this the first time you've been… ready to, uh, mate?"

"No, I'm used to the way these cycles come and go. But this for sure is the worst bout yet."

"… Why?"

You hold your breath. He takes a step forward. Then another.

He's so close, if you leaned the slightest bit forward you'd press up against each other. Somehow, with an overwhelming sense of shyness guessing the underlying thoughts and what his answer will be, your eyes roam his bare upper chest and torso.

If you could caress him you would. All the shiny black feathers adorning his wings and the occasional ones sprouting along his forearms pointing to his Plant abilities. Each scar along with every bit of metal or his body's naturally grown wood that replaces chunks of lost flesh. He's kept them as reminders of when he's failed humans, though you've seen them only as when they've failed him. He shivers, like he can feel it, as if he knows what you're thinking and you questioningly re-meet his burning stare as he shoots you a wane smile.

Sheepishly, he rubs where the cybernetic arm attaches to his shoulder. Many have turned away in disgust or mock pity at the disfigurements. Yet despite the true abomination he looks like right now, there's only ever been pure empathy and acceptance he doesn't deserve — all from you.

"Conscious consent and reciprocation."

Your lips turn upward, joy causing your soul to unwittingly sing. "Does that mean… I'm your mate?"

"No."

It's like Gunsmoke completely collapses, and you're left twirling without footing in space. Seokmin matches your fallen expression with one of his own.

"What? Wh-why?"

"Don't get me wrong, it's —"

"I swear if you say 'It's me, not you'…"

He rather adorably tilts his head. "How did you know?"

"It's a typical cliche," you roll your eyes, "just give it to me straight, Seokmin. Is it 'cause I'm human?"

"… It's not that simple, and this isn't something trivial. It's — hah — it's a huge commitment." The use of your given name indicates his seriousness. "A lifetime one. For me, it's only ever been you… and it will always be you for as long as I live, which could be your whole lifespan! And I don't, hah, I don't know — hell, it's taking everything I can not to tear a dead man apart, let alone what I'd do if you'd change your mind, want something — someone else."

"You're doing it again, projecting and underestimating my feelings for you."

"It could be the effect of my pheromones, mayfly. We don't know every —"

"That's right! We don't know! So we have to trust each other and see."

"It's —"

"Let's not subject ourselves to the hypothetical. And what do you mean by dead man?"

Seokmin's jaw tenses, fingernails digging into numb skin. His wings waver, like they're considering cocooning around him for protection. But their tips simply flutter as if soothed by an unseen force, preventing them from enclosing completely.

Teasingly, you lean toward him and squint. "What else aren't you telling me, Seok? You pick a side hustle up that involves the deceased like Choi?"

He snorts at the audacity and doesn't take the bait. Instead, unfamiliar but still achingly familiar irises dart to your neck, tracing the silver chain laying against your skin. A dull sort of sadness fizzles out those blue fires and you clasp the shape of the locket beneath your shirt in realization.

"He was a boy, Seok. A boy I grew up with for a short period, one that felt like a brother to me."

"… You said you loved him."

"When?"

"… To Cheol. After you first met him."

"That would've been so long ago? How do you even remember that?"

He sighs, heavily. "It's not easy to forget. Your voice was so warm, so gentle, so in love when you admitted it."

"Love can mean different things! And I assure you, my feelings for you differ greatly from how I felt about him. And… he's… he's long gone, Seok."

Guilt burns in his eyes. "I know. Which makes me all the worse."

"No, it doesn't." You shake your head, a resigned smile resting on your lips, and hold your arms out. "'Cause I understand and forgive you. And most importantly, I love you."

It's uncertain if those words break or restore him, but the hard rigidness in his body melts away, sagging in a semblance of relief. Then he rushes forward into your waiting embrace, wings helping to propel him forward until they wrap around and press you to him tight, tickling areas where his arms aren't squeezing around you.

"And I adore you, my lovely mayfly."

You groan. "When will you stop calling me that?"

"Never," he snickers and you feel the curve of his lips as he comfortably nuzzles into the crook of your neck. "For as long as you're mine."

"Yours?"

"Mine."

"Sucker."

A chaste kiss brushes the lower tip of your ear. So ticklish and unexpected, you pull back with a giggle and playfully swat his shoulder. And just as he's about to dive forward and prove your little comment correct in retaliation, you burst into full-on laughter that leaves Seokmin to settle his hands on your waist with confusion crinkling his brow.

"What?"

"So that's why you were always having a deathly staring match between my childhood memorabilia?"

"… Was not."

"You — the most sentimental loser ever — definitely were!"

He pouts momentarily, the cute jut out of his lower lip quickly transforming to a devious smirk. "You'd bet on it?"

"Totally." You place your arms around his neck, bringing your bodies closer again and matching the charge of electricity with a clever tilt of your lips. "I'd win, too."

"And what's on the table?"

"Sixty billion double dollars, of course."

"That so?"

"Mhm, and it seems like someone's bounty matches that worth."

Seokmin quirks a brow. "Seems like you want me on the table."

"Winner takes all?"

"Mayfly, I've always been yours."

"Sap," you laugh again.

A bright grin certainly declares your delight in victory, though your partner in crime uses the distraction as an advantage for his earlier loss and wastes no time. Diving in, a sharpened canine grazes your pulse point, automatically causing your head to tilt to offer easier access. Two left wings sweetly swoop down for support, feathered tips tenderly brushing your forehead.

The heat of his tongue placates the dragging scratch of his fangs. Though it sears you alive, heating your entire body from the tips of your toes, swirling in your core, and concentrating beneath Seokmin's lips on your skin.

When reaching that cold, familiar necklace you treasure so much and he can't help but loathe, it's seized between his teeth before he registers the action. Tugging it away from your neck like a dog, you wonder if he'll even shake it like one. His eyes follow the length of the chain, focusing on where the locket pops out above your chest.

You raise a questioning brow. "You gonna just play with my jewelry or take my clothes off?"

"Oh," Seokmin whispers, jaw dropping, and suddenly stands stiffly at attention.

You watch, entranced by the bob of his Adam's apple as he visibly gulps. Large, calloused hands — so practiced in undressing you for baths and patching up wounds — falter as they skim along your sides in a fleeting touch. Smiling encouragingly, you intertwine your fingers with those of his prosthetic while leading the other one beneath your shirt, the rough flesh of his palm blisteringly hot against your stomach.

"Is this okay? Can it help calm your Plant powers?"

"Yes… but that means… giving yourself to me… forever."

"Can't think of anything I'd enjoy more."

Confident, you trail kisses up his jaw to his cheek, stopping near his ear. Playfully tugging at the earring hoop as you pull away. Then you break away and bend over, shimmying off your shorts in one smooth motion. Stepping out of them, next goes your top. As each fabric hits the floor, Seokmin's eyes become more lidded, heavy with want. Smoldering. Desiring.

Four black wings fan out and stay as rigid as his stance. As if they're waiting with bated breath. And when you finally stand bare before him, he sheepishly drags his gaze to the floor with a flustered smile.

"I'm the one naked and you're embarrassed?" you tease and his posture relaxes.

"Because you're a vision to behold."

"Says the one who looks like an angel."

You back up until your knees hit the side of the bed. Like those morbid tales that depict curious listeners following a luring call to their demise, Seokmin's only a step behind you. He doesn't dare let his eyes stray further from your own, a goofy grin on his face.

"Consider this my fall from grace then, mayfly."

Gingerly, you sit on the edge of the mattress, waiting for his next move. He towers over you in this position. Formidable in appearance yet oh-so-gentle when picking up your left hand to kiss your knuckles and rub his thumb across its faded scar. Another smooch gets placed to your inner wrist and you hold your breath at the passion in those blazing cyan depths that refuse to look away. Then, a cautious touch to your shoulder urges you onto your back. Obediently, you lay down and a bunch of stray loose feathers fly up into the air upon impact.

"Beautiful," he murmurs.

The clothed knee resting between your legs helps his arm support the weight of his body hovering above you. A tentative hand slides down from your shoulder to your hip, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Caressing every scar, memorizing each color and swirl of ink decorating your skin, and erasing any insecurities or blemishes you see in yourself. Cold digits draw whimsical shapes and tickle your abdomen, stopping above your pelvic bone.

"May I?"

"Of course."

Seokmin rejoices in your consent by littering your collarbone with love bites. And his touches move lower, tender despite their mechanical nature. Warmth blossoms and flows under every surface of your skin Seokmin's traced, coiling and settling in a pulsating — almost painful — heat rupturing between your legs.

Only he can be the one to relieve this ache which he precisely aims to do. A simple, single brush across sensitive folds instantly has your breath hitching, shaking beneath him.

"Are you alright?"

"Mhm… yes."

He audibly gulps at your unexpected whimper of ecstasy, reluctantly tearing away from watching amorous bliss overtake your facial expression to the wet heat detected by his pointer finger's sensors. A feral growl rumbles in his chest at the debauched sight of desire beginning to dampen your thighs — the trace of what he's been smelling from you now overloading every single one of his senses as he coaxes more to flow from you. Seokmin's more than thankful for his enhanced vision and the glow of cybernetic technology baring your most intimate parts to him.

Guided by an instinctual impulse, he eases a finger inside. Your back automatically arches off the bed, eliciting a sweet gasp of delight. The cool touch of the digit seized tightly by the pulsating walls of your cunt slowly warms as it adjusts to the welcome intrusion. He soothingly brushes the knuckle of his middle finger across the soft outer flesh of your pussy to relax its grip. Eventually it lets up enough to let him explore further and deeper than your own have ever reached.

"I'm… I'm not sure how best to please you," Seokmin admits, drinking in your every reaction to his curious ministrations. "But there's this urge, this need, to make you feel good. Prep you properly for my… my entry."

By pure accident, he strokes a rough patch of nerves that makes your eyes roll back, hips lifting at the sensation of wanting more of whatever that feeling was, and your quiet noises melt into a loud, needy moan.

"More," you plead, "touch me more, Seok."

He eases his other finger inside without question, grunting at the squeeze that almost prevents him from moving to where you want him the most. But unlike the rest of his quivering body, the prosthesis remains steady, still, and patient. Waiting until it can bully itself and a third finger past your entrance's vice-like clench.

You start pulling on your breasts, trying to alleviate the tingling in them. Seokmin observes with a keen eye and a toothy, fanged grin. After a bit, he leans down to let his tongue trace the underside of one mound, leaving behind a saliva trail shining in the unconventional lighting as he tends to the next. Alternating with playful nips and naughty tugs to your nipples whenever your grip on them falters from the overwhelming pleasure.

So attentive and eager, soon you're writhing beneath him as you hit your peak. One hand grips your hip tightly, surely to leave a bruise with the way it cramps. His other doesn't let up, well-oiled mechanisms continuing to pump in and out of your trembling pussy until you whine from the overstimulation.

His wings fold protectively around both of you like a canopy as you share a tender kiss. Dazed and happy, you tenderly brush back black bangs and play with one of the feathers that's sprouted near the hairline above his ear. He shivers.

"Let me take care of you too."

"Are you sure? What about your shoulder?"

"That's the least of my concerns right now."

"I can still…"

"Later. First, I want to help you."

Suddenly, Seokmin's shy again, flushed cheeks darkening. "I… I think I'm a little different… down there so it's okay if you don't want to… or get scared."

"It's not like I've seen enough dicks to compare whether what you're packing is normal."

The both of you share a goofy laugh that eases the presumed awkwardness. He sits back to unbutton his pants but you stop him.

"May I?"

You might as well have knocked the air out of his lungs. He stares at you wide-eyed and then emphatically nods, finally clearing his throat to squeak out, "Sure."

Ignoring the aftershocks of your earlier orgasm, you sit up and kneel in front of him. Intent on a few minor distractions, your mouth and hands start at his shoulders to work their way down. Imagining you have the power to heal the damage dealt to his body and soul through tender touches.

You see a sad sense of beauty and justice in the patchwork of metal bolts and bark. And as you apply marks of love that bruise and blossom between them, he lets out a content warble. You're quick to undo the button of his pants, both of you gasping at the utterly wet mess seeping through the material when you tug the zipper down with your teeth.

He lifts his hips to help and once he's just as naked as you do you take him in. Anatomy was meagerly touched upon during your days at the convent, so truthfully all you're aware of at the sight of his heavy cock is the need to be filled with it.

And the closest thing to take him is your mouth, jaw already aching before you even open it. Almost reverently, your hands wrap around to stabilize it. Seokmin hisses pleasantly at the contact.

"You don't have to —"

He's cut off by a groan as you inquisitively suckle the tip. The copious amounts of slick smearing from it and down the base taste sweeter than Seungcheol's lollipops and you moan heartily, causing his thighs beneath your elbows to tense at the vibrations.

"Oh, mayfly."

A wing caresses your cheek that bulges as you take more and more of him, Seokmin's hands tearing at the sheets. The tip of another wing tantalizingly drags down your bare back. Your hands begin to explore, finding the puffy edges around the slit from which the thick cock emerges from. His hips jolt upwards at the contact to sensitive tissues, causing you to gag.

"Ah, 'm sorry!"

While he whispers repeated apologies, you're only compelled to take him further. Slowly you get used to the stretch, but no matter how much more you're able to squeeze down your throat there's still enough of his length for both of your hands to play with. It gets easier the more aggressive you get, his cock seeming to respond to your vigor in tandem. Soon you're lost to the haze of whether you're bobbing your head up and down or it's swirling languidly in your mouth on its own accord.

Seokmin's hips stutter but you feel the tremor first pulse against the inner walls of your throat. His cock throbs as you pull off of it, hollowing your cheeks and parting with deliberately powerful suction. A loud pop releases its tip and your hand supports its weighty girth falling forward. You dig the nails of your free hand into the muscle of his quaking thigh, ducking down to teethe at the puffy slit from where his cock must emerge.

Moving on to licking and dragging the point of your tongue along the sizable vein lining the underside causes Seokmin's low groans to turn into a high-pitched trill. Once you reach the swollen, leaking head and nibble on the hard glans, it spasms wildly and finally erupts. From the top slit seeps sweet syrupy fluid that readily overflows into your awaiting, open mouth.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," he blabbers.

You'd reply that there's no need for gratitude, perhaps you'd thank him, but the viscous release keeps spilling out. Rivulets trickle well past your lips and coat your chest. Although still in a euphoric daze, his eyes flash with sharp satisfaction. Instantly possessive at the sight of your bare body decorated so erotically.

His wings snap open — filled with purpose — and your face is pressed down into the mattress. Surrounded in a smoky musk as the angelic monstrosity it belongs to and destined to be your mate hovers above.

Your voice comes out hoarse as you raise up onto your elbows and spitefully spit out a black feather. "Do those wings of yours prevent you from being topped or something?"

"I'll let you find out another time, partner," Seokmin huffs, laughter evident despite his apparent breathlessness. He steals a tender kiss, pleased grunting at how your lips — shiny and swollen — taste of him. "But for now…"

Like an anchor, the tech material warmed by your shared body heat and passion winds underneath your hips, keeping them raised. A calloused, ticklish touch roams traces your spine. He draws an occasional spiral here and there as he goes, mindful of your wound, until firmly pinning the nape of your neck to the side, creating the perfect arch of your back.

"I think you'll like this," Seokmin says as if he isn't liking the view below him.

But for you, straight ahead lies the dresser's mirror. It reflects the full manifestation of an independent Plant poised to devour a human in the most intimate sense. The fearsome size of his cock lies heavy on top of your ass, leaking droplets of arousal all over your backside.

"Will it fit?"

"Of course, you are mine to claim and take." His hips just forward and you both moan. "I think we're both wet enough to try."

"I trust you."

"Let me know if it hurts in any way and we'll stop right away, mayfly."

Many troupes of desert-traveling dancers have mesmerized you before. Yet even they can't compare to the graceful and smooth motion of Seokmin releasing your neck to align his tip with the entrance of your cunt and slowly bullying his way in.

Tears of pain mixing to unfathomable pleasure blur the vision of your mouth widening to let out whines and moans. "Seokkie…"

"Mhm, mayfly… my love… my mate."

Finally, the front of his thighs are flush against yours. Hips pressed tight against your ass. Fully sheathed inside your tight hole, neither of you have ever felt such intensity before. He surrenders his body weight on top of yours, hands braced outside of yours clenching loose feathers and silk sheets. The outer heaviness matches the intensity of what your pussy struggles to accommodate.

"Mine."

Seokmin's hips swirl at a slow pace. Rather than thrust, he massages the sensitive glands at the base of his cock with the soft flesh of your ass. His length seems to shrink and grow and writhe with a mind of its own, filling and teasing you nonstop. Leaving no surface of your inner walls untouched or untended to for too long.

"Yours."

You shudder in blissed-out delirium and Seokmin lights up — literally.

Fluorescent lines glow in distinct patterns across skin, brightening the more he starts to pant and build up your shared pleasure. Sharp canines prick into the skin of your unmarked shoulder as he wraps his prosthesis under your stomach to raise your hips, the new position driving you faster to that rapidly approaching edge. You cry out with a lurch, blurrily making out his glowing form that shudders above.

Though the view in the mirror gets hidden by black wings stroking your entire body. Teasing the underside of your tits and tenderly brushing away the stings of his teeth marks.

"I-I love you," Seokmin rasps.

"Love…" You manage to enunciate the words, mind emptying and drool wetting the bed as your second peak approaches. "Love you too."

Pain and pleasure draw forth an onslaught of your apparent arousal that lecherously mixes with the frothy mess dribbling from his cock. Claws appear on Seokmin's right hand, another addition to the bestial Plant features emerging in the throes of passion. He's not completely lost to the primal thrall though, able to resist from breaking skin.

Delicately scratching your waist without drawing blood, then using the finely pointed tips to pluck and tease effortlessly at your clit. You cry out, body shaking as waves of euphoria crash against the shoreline of imminent pleasure.

Seokmin helps ride out your peak with a couple of speedy thrusts. The feeling of his hips slamming into you has you seeing more stars than Gunsmoke's galaxy contains. And just as you're overcome with too much stimulation, he lets go with a particularly strong bite into the top of your shoulder.

His cock softens and its heavy weight like a blanket along with the continual pump of his warm, soothing release. The feeling of it leaving none of your inner walls untouched feels as sweet as it tasted on your tongue and helps ease the ache inside your cunt. Still joined together and slick with stickiness, he collapses onto his side and gently assists you with rolling over so you can face him.

"Hey, you."

"Hello there yourself, lovely mayfly."

Your nose wrinkles but gets smoothed out by feather tips playing with the ends of your hair. Seokmin smiles as you snuggle closer into his chest so two of his wings can cocoon around you as the heated fervor from prior activities cools.

"Did that help?"

"… Yes," he says though his tone wavers with hesitance.

You raise your chin and see the electric blue luster hasn't faded yet from his gaze. Sheepishly, the corner of his mouth raises and you shiver, feeling the swell of his cock stretch out your pussy. The bulge it creates brushes against Seokmin's abdomen and he twitches.

"Sorry, it's… I'm gonna be kinda insatiable now that I've had a taste…" He trails off, wings snapping behind him. Slowly, he pulls his hips away and you both hiss as his cock is dragged out.

"What are you —"

You're cut off by the animalistic glimmer in his gaze, catching the feral smirk that he attempts to hide by licking his palm. Quick as lightning, Seokmin fleetingly swipes the outer lips of your cunt and brings his fingers, tonguing at them. Body set aflame again, neither of your break eye contact as he moans headily.

"But not of this," he rasps.

Before you know it, you're staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stickers on his ceiling with your mate between your legs. His wings trail along your calves, their flexible ends curling near your inner thighs, encouraging them to spread and stay open, pinning them in place.

"Oh, aren't you a beauty?"

He moans shamelessly at the sight of your messy, glistening pussy. You squirm at the ticklish sensation of his feathers and that smoldering, ravenous look. If only he knew what it was like to see him devour you with his mouth.

Delicious.

Just like the feeling of his tongue working its way inside and licking up the shared essence of your releases.

Your fingers weave between strands of hair as black as night, tugging lightly and accidentally snagging one of his ear feathers. He moans eagerly, and the vibration has you shuddering, already quickly nearing another mind-shattering orgasm. But you don't let him carry you there too fast, smooth brain muscles trying to form a question.

"How… long… how long do these cycles last?"

Seokmin presses a loving kiss to your twitching clit and blows, entranced by how you clench around nothing. Then he smirks, elongated teeth shining in the darkness like a predatory warning though you have nothing to fear.

"As much as you can handle but… we're really only just getting started, mayfly."

The motion light kicks on as Seungcheol shifts his boots in the direction of the unlit kitchen area. Junhui and Minghao's entrance awaken the rest of the lights and they frown at the makeshift bunker set up.

"What are you three doing in here?"

Seungkwan sleepily mumbles a curse word and next to him, Mingyu blearily rubs his eyes. A scattering of empty pudding cups and bottles lie around them as well as a disorganized array of poker cards.

"We're afraid to venture out of here."

Junhui shares a secretive look with his closest friend at Seungkwan's cryptic words. "Ah, so that's happened. Or happening."

"'Bout time y'all came 'round. Time for ya to pay up!"

"Pay up for what?"

"Compensation. 'M the one who got the closest to bein' right knowin' they'd fuck after confessin'."

"If anyone needs compensation, it's me for the mental damage of having to make one of my lovelies into an enhanced sex toy."

Seungcheol guffaws. "Ya didn't! Ya lil cheatin', schemin' scientist!"

Meanwhile, Mingyu looks mighty concerned. "Does that mean Seokmin has a dildo for an arm?!"

Minghao crosses his arms with a steely glare. "No."

"Oh good. I don't think I could look at him the same."

"I don't think any of us will ever look at him the same again."

Junhui eagerly rocks back and forth on his heels, hands stuffed in the deep pockets of his lab coat. "Do you think they discovered all the functions and benefits of it yet?"

"Should be our next bettin' round."

"No more bets. I don't care if it's half a double dollar to go in, I refuse to go through this again."

Mingyu elbows his raven-haired companion. "C'mon, your heart's warmed by this!"

"Warmed and consumed by the rage and fury of hellfire, yes."

Giggling, the tall man smiles widely and holds his hand out. "Alright, I win then!"

"Win what? Thought you didn't remember your bet."

Mingyu purses his lips. "Only because none of you took me seriously and joked with a bunch of gross innuendos when I said they'd find their home in one another!" He then sighs dreamily. "But if I'm right, we'll know by tomorrow morning."

"Who says it'll be tomorrow mornin'. Might take weeks. Months even, I reckon'."

"I'll kick you all out before it comes to that," Minghao threatens and runs a hand through the few strands of hair without a bead. He tosses a wad of money in front of Mingyu. "Never involve me in this again."

Despite all the grumbling, everyone has a sense of lightness in their hearts at the thought of their dear friends finally getting together. And the happiest of them all is Mingyu, who cheerily gathers his prized double dollars, dreaming of all the pudding he can buy.

A lone figure stands on the edge of the valley of the Melca Border. The Sea of Sand, aptly named, can change tide and turn vicious at any second. Their cloak billows in the sandy winds that whip around them, though even the steadfast hood can't hide the satisfied smile on their face.

"You did well," they commend and the name that falls from their lips is one some might consider lost to the sands of time.

"Saintess." Another figure materializes out of the sand gusts in response to the praise. "It is to be done as you said."

"Very well. Shall we go now?"

Whether it's the mysterious sands that swirl around and whisk them away or the lost technology cube that transports them, no one will ever know for no one ever saw them. Like ghosts, they disappear and find themselves outside the real ghost town — where it all began.

A toma croaks in the distance. Brave travelers dare cross the ruined wasteland and the saintess meditating atop one of the largest rocks hidden in the shadows opens her gray eyes tinted by lilac in the glow of the moons to observe. Despite all of her traveling, the white robes wrapped around her body remain in pristine condition.

She turns behind to look at the man standing over a scattering of stones, staring intently at one of them. With poise and purpose, she dusts off her clothes and strides over to him.

"Chan."

Brown eyes tear away from his own name carved into the headstone in front of him to look at the one who's said it aloud.

"Yes, Saintess?"

"Do you regret it?"

"No. Never."

"Good," she states, satisfied with his response. With a grand sweep of her hood to cover short, dark hair, she gestures to the east. "We will set up camp one more night before returning to the Saint in the morning before he speaks with our Master."

Chan mutely nods, following the saintess back into the desert where she confidently leads him to a cave that will shield them from the unpredictable nature of Gunsmoke's wastelands. He thinks of you, the girl he must keep safe and two brothers. One with wings as pure white despite his continual revelry with hate-filled darkness, the other bearing ones the complete opposite color of his twin — a wild card.

He reminisces over the Blessed and Holy Sisterhood of Little Ivywood, the convent and all the orphans that lived there. Pondering Sister Meryl's role, who stands before him now as the revered Saintess, leader for the Eye of Joshua and second only to the Bishop of the cult named after himself. She moves curious little statues back and forth across the surface of a large flat rock and the young man can't help but ask her a question in the unnerving silence.

"Do you think this will work?"

Meryl smiles elusively, as always. She picks up the smallest one with a deliberate flourish, placing it on a blackened space close to the last row of alternating squares carved into the stone's surface.

"Have you ever played chess before?"

"No, what is it?"

"An Earthern board game. It is quite complicated." Gesturing to the piece she just moved, she continues. "This is a pawn, the weakest of all chess pieces."

Chan bristles. "But strength comes in numbers, no? There are eight of each color, surely the right side can find a way to win."

Unfazed by his agitation, the saintess nods placatingly. "With the right strategy, even a pawn may become a queen — the most powerful. Unpredictable." She points to a white figurine with a cross on top of it. "Enough to checkmate a king."

Entranced, Chan watches as she rearranges and repositions various pieces across the faux chessboard. Soon, the pawn that took on the mantle of a Black Queen captures the White King. His eyes roam what's left on the battlefield at the end of the match, pointing to one that looks like a tower.

"What's that one?"

"A rook. It best supports an allied pawn towards promotion from behind the scenes." Her eyes sparkle mischievously. "It's most powerful during the end of the game, as you can see."

Chan gulps, holding his breath for a moment, and clears his throat. "Then I'm ready."

"Wonderful," Meryl nods, "we'll depart for Master Dokyeom's stronghold in the morning. I'm sure Joshua, our dear Saint, will be… pleased upon our return."

"To the glory of the Black King's rise."

"And to the glory of our so-called queen."

Keep him safe, Chan thinks to himself as he settles on the ground. And yourself. One day we'll reunite in the most joyous of occasions…

He pulls out a faded wanted poster with the infamous outlaw worth sixty billion double dollars, donning a wishful smile before closing his eyes and murmuring, "I'd even bet this impossible amount on it."

onlyseokmins: April 2024 ©

[melyapperofthecentury]

OKAY JUST HEAR ME OUT ON THIS.

No I'm not saying I'd smash (I mean I ain't saying no 🤭🫢) BUT. YOU KNOW ME AS THAT ONE HARDCORE JIYURI SHIPPER AND SO HERE I PRESENT IT.

.........that motherfrikken ring is for Yuri.

HEAR ME OUT. HEAR ME OUT IM NOT FREAKING DELUSIONAL!!!! IM NOT!! I HAVE EXPLANATIONS! I AM SMART BECAUSE I STUDY THEM.

Now I SPECIFICALLY took a picture of the card like that because it shows the name of the card...

Patient Groom

And like ohhh awww it means Jiro would be patient when it comes to proposing aw how cute BUT WAIT A FUCKING MINUTE!!! THIS HAS DOUBLE MEANING.

Patient, as in having patience and waiting for something for a while. In this case would be marriage! Now I think this applies to Yuri because we obviously know that doctor babygirl has trust issues and bad past relations with people he now hates (Jin and Romeo) which is WHY he has trust issues with most people now even now with JIRO! As when Jiro testifies he didn't go Frostheim Yuri thinks otherwise because of the snowflake in his hair. (This is just me explaining why Yuri has Trust Issues but yeah I'm ending it here unless it is requested I yap way more about it... WHICH I ABSOLUTELY CAN DUE TO THE AMAZINGLY LARGE WORD LIMIT BUT let's move on)

Because Yuri has Trust Issues and because Jiro knows Yuri well, Jiro knows that Yuri wouldn't trust Jiro enough to form a romantic relationship or atleast a healthy one. So he waits until Yuri trusts him first so he can make the move.

(before you fricken tell me Jiro doesn't care about Yuri I direct you to Mortkranken episode and if that isn't enough I sentence you to 40 replays.)

That's the explanation for the first meaning of Patient the next is...

Patient as in someone admitted to getting medical treatment this someone is Jiro as he is Yuri's patient. SEE WHERE IM COMING FROM??? Okay so, ever since Jiro has had hazy/vague memories from the clash all he knows begins from being Yuri's patient, Yuri was the ONLY doctor to actually attempt to treat Jiro and that's why he's alive now. Even if he is, his condition isn't perfect so he's still Yuri's patient, always Yuri's patient....

Guess what? IM NOT DONE.

That's right baby.. ITS TIME FOR FLOWER SYMBOLISM!!! But only the lilacs.

The lilac flower has many meanings, but most are related to expressing love or affection:

In Victorian times, giving a lilac meant that that the giver is trying to remind the receiver of a first love. Lilacs can also express confidence that the giver has for the receiver. This makes lilacs a good gift for graduates. A sprig of lilacs, especially white lilacs, symbolizes innocence.

I'm not sure how accurate this is I got them from google BUT What I AM sure of is that purple lilacs mean First Love and maaaybe infatuation and obsessionn oh and that people thought it was magical and it warded off spirits... Funny hehe because that could apply to anomalies here.

It's ESPECIALLY because of its health benefits that I think it's lilacs and it probably is too BECAUSE YOU CAN MAKE TEA WITH IT! And Jiro can make good tea.. FROM WHAT YURI PERSONALLY KNOWS AND EXPERIENCES AND TASTES EVEEERYYY DAY.

BUT WHERE WOULD JIRO EXPERIENCE FIRST LOVE... IF NOT WITH HIS OWN DOCTOR?! Scandalous, I know, shocking even. BUT NOW THEY'RE CLASSMATES I mean they're always been BUT THEYRE BASICALLY ROOMMATES BECAUSE THEY PULL ALL-NIGHTERS TOGETHER AND SLEEP NEXT TO EACHOTHER. WE HAVE SEEN ONCE CONFIRMED IN CANON AND ANOTHER IN WARDING CARDS!! SO YEAH THEY DO BE PRETTY CLOSE, HUH.

Also the only times we've seen Jiro smile and laugh besides laughing at MC for being scared of things IS JIRO SMILING AT YURI. LIKE YOU CANNOT CONVINCE ME EVER That THAT FREAKING SMILE is NOT HOMOSEXUALLY FUELED!

Wakarimashita, Yuri.

YOU FUCKING GAY ASS I KNOW WHAT YOU AREEEE I KNOW WHAT YOU AAAA-

Ahem ahem back to the the theorizing yes....

Sanest JiYuri Fan, I know 🫶

Lilacs also symbolise innocence, as said earlier from sprigs too in which these are sprigs (plant that has the stem and leaves with it) I think that the innocence is representing that Jiro's actions of love are innocent and don't mean harm unlike what Yuri's trust issues may think (Yuri's trust issues, my mental illness opp of tkdb.)

And.. YEAH! That's basically it, THANKS FOR READING MY RAMBLINGS I DOUBT ANYONE BUT BESTIE WILL THANK YOU BESTIE AND OR ANYONE ELSE THAT READS TO THIS POINT MAYBEEE JiYuri is CANON and I am the biggest supporter. I WILL WINGWOMAN THAT WEDDING I BE HELPING THE MALE BRIDE AKA YURI ISAMI, LOOK PRETTY AF FOR HIS HUSBAND JIRO!! I WILL BE THE FLOWER GIRL AND THE PRIEST IF NEED FREAKING BE!!!

[yuurei20]

Hi! Just wanted to ask, have you talked about if the overblotts are covered up by the school or if they are openly known? I feel like you might have talked about it before but I don’t know where I would find it! :(

Hello hello!! Thank you for this question!

This was mentioned a little bit before in response to a question about if overblotting is common knowledge, but am happy to summarize with newly updated information! ^^

After Vil's overblot Jamil offers on behalf of the group to "hold off on explaining this to the faculty until after the competition," with Vil saying that he will be explaining to Crowley personally.

It is unclear how much time passed between the overblot itself and when Vil confessed to it, and it is possible he never had the chance:

When Vil is kidnapped a few days after the incident, Ruggie says he didn't know that Vil had overblotted at all.

This doesn't necessarily mean that they hadn't informed Crowley yet, but it does seem like there hadn't been enough time for the news to spread throughout the school--and maybe the NRC Tribe had been trying to hide the information from the other students, for Vil's sake?

In Book 7 Idia mentions "the whole incident" he caused at the Island of Woe in front of Trey and Cater, who were not there, but how much they know might be a little vague!

Riddle says he will tell them the story of what happened on the Island of Woe, though we do not technically see anyone spreading the news of Idia's overblot on screen.

Idia says that "people all over the world" will be holding him accountable at the same time he says he has "joined the ranks of the SSR Epic Troublemakers" (his name for the overblotters), so he seems to expect that the news will get out.

Crowley has confirmed that the Department of Education and the Department of Magic are aware of NRC's overblot incidents (as is STYX), but did they only learn about them after the "anonymous tip" that called for an examination of the overblotters?

It is mentioned multiple times that they underwent treatment and counseling post-overblot, which makes it seem like multiple people have always been aware and some sort of procedure is being followed. But if those doctors and counselors belong to the medical facilities of Sage's Island, it is not impossible that they've been keeping the information local.

Except it seems that families are being told! Jamil says that, while his parents are unaware of the real reason behind his overblot, they do know that it happened.

While not canon to the game, in the novel Riddle reflects on how hard his mother protested to keep him from being expelled after he overblotted.

To answer the initial question: with how parents are being kept up to date and Idia's comment that "people all over the world" are going to naturally know what happened, it does not seem like overblots are being covered up by the school!

(Whether or not parents choose to cover it up might be a separate question. Idia's overblot also happened off-campus, unlike the other five--perhaps his situation is moreso the exception than the rule? So many possibilities!)

The closest we come might be Crowley's evasiveness with Ambrose in Book 5, but we technically don't know that the "large-scale" magic being referenced was from Vil's oveblot (or Malleus' magic, or something else entirely), and we do not know if Crowley was even aware at the time that Vil had overblotted, so it might not count :>

[roisinivy]

September is PCOS Awareness month. Last year I made a post including all of the common symptoms. As it's nearly a year since my diagnosis, I thought I would share my story of being diagnosed...

I started showing symptoms of having polycystic ovary syndrome (PCOS for short) when I was 14, in 2018. I went 9 months without a period, started growing body hair in places that are not considered 'normal' for women, gained a lot of weight, started getting very oily skin and acne.

When my mum queried this with a doctor, she was told I was just a teenager having an irregular phase and that no doctor would seriously look at a diagnosis for me until I was at least 16.

(what my mum didn't know is that I was being groomed and had been assaulted, which is when I developed binge eat disorder, which also accounted for the weight gain...)

By the time I had turned 16 in 2020, covid had put the uk into a second nation wide lockdown and completely ruined an already struggling NHS.

I didn't see a doctor about my PCOS until a month before I turned 19, due to all of the backlog.

My doctor ordered a blood test, and an ultrasound of my ovaries at a nearby hospital. The blood test was completed within a week, but it took me 6 weeks to get my first scan. I am still a virgin, and due to being sexually assaulted when I was younger, I was extremely nervous about having something in me and to have a nurse/doctor see me like that.

The external ultrasound was incredibly painful, having a bladder full of two liters of water pushing down onto you. The nurse couldn't get a good enough view, so I went to relive myself before having what would be my first of three ultrasounds.

The nurse took one look at my scan and confirmed I definitely had polycystic ovaries, she could also see I had ovulated. I knew I would be having my first period in 4 months in December of 2023. This was the last period I had, it was the worst I'd had in a very long time.

On my first scan, a large cyst was spotted, so I would need a second one due to the size of it.

It was roughly the size of a ping-pong ball. My ovaries are also swollen to about three times the size they should be.

By my second scan, it had disappeared. I had a third as a precaution, which was also clear of anything concerning.

I then started taking Cerelle birth control in February.

I have had two bartholin cysts (infection of the vagina), hives, extremely sore breasts on and off, nausea, low libido, acne, increased body weight, tiredness, rashes and so much more caused by my birth control...

But it's preventing me from having an increased risk of developing cancer when I'm older, masking my symptoms so that I can have a 'normal' life whilst living with PCOS.

Although I still grow a better beard than my 18 year old brothers thanks to the increase androgen lol

I don't know how long I'll stay on birth control, or if I'll have to use other treatments, but this is my PCOS journey so far.

[nagichi-boop]

Vent about disability and driving (mostly about narcolepsy & driving):

For the longest time, I didn’t have the desire to drive because I was terrified at the idea. And when I realised I also related to the symptoms of narcolepsy and saw that it makes driving potentially dangerous, I hung onto that as my reasons for not wanting to drive — I used it as an excuse of sorts, despite not being confirmed to have it. (ADHD applies to this too.)

But recently I decided that I wanted to learn to drive. I watched videos that were educational about driving, I looked into cars and found the specific kind of car I would want, I calculated how much it would all cost and set up a budget. I was so freaking excited, even though I was also still nervous. The idea of being able to go where I wanted when I wanted was appealing. To have my own little space in my car and to decorate it to suit me. To stop being a burden on others for transport and getting places on my own.

But then the topic of my health came back up. I had a tilt table test this week that was positive for POTS, and without even prompting it, two people in my family separately asked whether it would impact my driving in any way. The answer was no — my POTS very rarely (if ever) makes me pass out, so that’s not an issue. But then it got me thinking about the issue of health and its effects on driving. In the UK, conditions like ADHD are ones you have to report to the DVLA (Driver and Vehicle Licensing Agency), but only if it impacts your driving. But for a condition like narcolepsy, you are told to stop driving immediately and report it to them. You’re not permanently banned from driving — your doctor can clear you — but it’s one of the few conditions I’ve seen listed on their website that requires you to report it and stop driving.

Suddenly my dreams of owning a cute pink car, listening to my own music and having such freedom was crushed. I felt so upset and still am because of how much more my health impacts me than I thought. If it was just about the driving, so be it. But it feels like so many people already disapprove of me not working and not driving. I just wanted to claw back this one thing to prove that maybe I could have an ounce of independence and competence. But no. Now I have to keep dealing with people who think I’m lazy and unwilling to try to be better because my stupid health makes me utterly useless.

And I can’t even definitively say I have narcolepsy, so I can’t even say to people “I have a health condition that makes it dangerous for me to drive” because I am not diagnosed. Instead it would be something like “I might have a condition that makes it dangerous to drive, so I’m not bothering to drive in case I have this very rare condition.” Maybe I don’t even have it, but I’ve seen so much advice to not risk it until you’re potentially diagnosed an in treatment because being tired is as bad as being drunk, and I even though I often invalidate how tired I am, it could be super dangerous. I could potentially hurt or kill someone if I really do have narcolepsy.

I just feel so useless and pathetic. So many people my age drive. They work. They go out with friends. They’re dating. And me? I can’t do anything. I have to rely on other people for mental and physical support because my mind and body don’t work properly. I just…I wanted to be able to do something that felt like a step towards autonomy and independence, even if it was as simple as being able to drive. And it hurts that I also know that no one irl will understand this. They’d just say “well maybe you can try X” or “you don’t even know if you have X.” I told my mum I was planning to hold off for a bit while I get answers from the sleep doc, and she told me that I won’t be a dangerous driver and to just do it.

I just…why. Why is this my life.

[she-karev]

The Lucas greys shot was so cute,just curious can you do a part 2 possibly. I love the Lucas Amelia link bond and Lucas and scout cousin cuteness please. Also makes me wonder if he ever told any of his add learning of it. ?

ADHD Reveal (Lucas Adams and Amelia Shepherd ADHD Imagine)

Age Rating: 12+

Chapters: One of One

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy

Canon Episode: Between Season 19 Episode 17 and 18

AN: Hey guys I know I’m late responding to this request but I’ve been busy with school and other one shots. I learned that October is ADHD awareness month so I thought it would be a perfect time to write this considering the theme. Like and reblog below and let me know what you think.

Summary: Amelia finds out her nephew Lucas has ADHD after accidentally ingesting his medication mistaking it for Aspirin. When she confronts him, he unloads his frustrations on her and their family for missing this.

Words: 5066

April 1st, 2023

“Adams!” Lucas Adams turns to find his chief resident, Amber DeLuca, inside the locker room holding a tablet ready to start the day, “You’re with me and Hunt today in the ER lets go.”

Lucas nods and quickly grabs his aspirin bottle to put inside his lab coat pocket. It’s not for a headache, it’s secretly storing his ADHD medication that he was recently prescribed two weeks ago with Nick Marsh’s help.

Ever since he found out he was neurodivergent Lucas felt everything come into clear focus on why no matter how hard he tries his mind wonders elsewhere. But with it comes a frustration not towards himself but towards his family. In a massive family of doctors how can a kid with clear signs of ADHD be dismissed as a problem child?

“Question Adams is today gonna be a busy or slow day in the ER?”

Lucas snaps out of his dark question to focus on his job that he hopes he can improve on now that he’s taking proper treatment and his focus is becoming more acute.

“Um doesn’t it usually vary?”

“It does.” Amber confirms, “But on April fool’s day the stupidity of the human race reaches heights even TikTok can’t record. Today people pull dangerous and straight up deadly pranks on others and guess who takes care of the damage.”

“First responders?”

“Who take them to us so we can make sure they live to see April 2nd. Now this is a popular prank, The Surfing Challenge, what are the common injuries from a teen riding a car like a surfboard?”

“Fractured pelvis, broken bones, road rash and brain injuries.”

“Correct, you’re with me all day. Any major traumas I have you will be by my side. Now normally I would request either Griffith or Kwan on my service but I personally requested you.”

Lucas looks genuinely shocked at that but knowing his boss thinks it’s a joke, “Is this an April fools prank to psych me for today?”

“Surprisingly no. I’ve noticed your improving work performance the past week, your able to multitask without royally screwing up and making mistakes that only a 1st year med student could make.”

Lucas furrows his eyebrows at that, “That was kind of a back handed compliment but thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” Amber states bluntly, “I’m taking you with me to really test you in a high stress environment. And the ER is the busiest room in this whole building. When patients come in, I am gonna point and yell, it’s how I operate so don’t take it personally.”

“I’ve learned not to at this point.” Lucas says as they head down the hall.

“See that is what I am talking about your finally learning, better late than never. I’m either gonna make or break you today so get your head in the game.”

“Yes Dr. DeLuca.” They enter the ER that is mostly empty this morning. Lucas spots an unopened water bottle at the station. He uncaps his aspirin bottle, pops the pill in his mouth before washing it down with the water.

“Incoming trauma two minutes out, gown and glove now!” Amber yells out to Adams who puts his aspirin bottle behind the station by a desktop before joining in on what will surely be a productive day.

Half an Hour Later

“Now you can see why you shouldn’t eat a spoonful of cinnamon.” Amber tells her teen patient who is breathing through an oxygen mask. He has brown smudges on his shirt and mouth that are from taking the cinnamon challenge. Once they opened his airway and cleared his lungs Amber set him up for oxygen therapy.

Adams looks over the chart for the lung function results, “His lungs are inflamed, should we put him on corticosteroids?”

“Let’s ask him.” Amber turns to the patient, “Simon, are you able to breathe without pain? Can you inhale without the mask? Let’s try.”

Simon takes the mask off and inhales causing him to couch violently, and Amber quickly puts the mask back on calming him down.

“Yep, give him 20 mg’s and call his parents they need to know their kid skipped school to eat cinnamon.”

Adams inserts the drug into the IV before going to the station to call Simon’s parents from the phone when he stops. The station is filled with files, tablets and pens but it’s not what’s on it that stops Lucas dead. His aspirin bottle filled with his Adderall prescription is missing.

Lucas quickly gets behind the desk and looks around the clutter for his bottle. He moves papers, puts tablets on top of the desk, and moves desktops to look in the back. His heart races as the gravity of this hits him, his Adderall is missing possibly in the hands of a doctor or nurse who is unknowingly taking speed.

Amber hears the clutter and looks to find her intern behind the desk moving objects around frantically. She sighs at the sight not expecting Lucas Adams to make a mess so soon after their shifts start. Amber turns to the nurse who looks puzzled by the scene as well.

“Monitor him please, I will be right back.” Amber snaps her gloves off and approaches her intern with a stern face. He doesn’t see her coming as he is on the floor of the station looking around the dirty floor.

“Adams I am almost afraid of what the answer might be but I am going to ask, what are you doing?”

Lucas’s head pops up from under, “Somebody took my aspirin, I need to find it.”

“I had high hopes for you today, Adams, it was a first and now it’s the last.” Amber pinches the bridge of her nose, “Aspirin is a dime a dozen ask a nurse to get you another-”

“No I need that bottle!” Lucas exclaims standing up and seeing his boss narrowing her eyes at him.

“Two things, 1. You do not interrupt me again, 2. You will tell me what is so important about that specific aspirin that warrants you to yell at the woman who can fire you with one call. Go.”

Lucas inhales and exhales to keep his anxiety under control before explaining in a hushed voice, “I was diagnosed with ADHD two weeks ago and the neurologist prescribed Adderall to take. I carry it with me inside a bottle of aspirin that I left at this station, and it’s gone which means someone took it with them by mistake.”

Amber stands there frozen for a moment to process before she laughs scaring Lucas who looks at her in shock. She laughs like it’s the funniest thing for a few moments before forming coherent words.

“Y-You’re pranking me, right?” Amber asks with a wide smile, “This is an April fools’ prank, oh Adams you almost gave me a heart attack, good on you.”

Lucas stands there frozen in place with a remorseful face that Amber sees causing her to gulp as her smile begins to die.

“Why aren’t you laughing? Laugh Adams so I know your messing with me, please!” Lucas looks down at his feet in fear causing Amber to frown as she realizes he’s telling her the truth. The chief resident inhales deeply to keep calm so that they don’t raise suspicion before moving closer to the intern asking in a low voice that sends shivers down Adams spine.

“Are you telling me that a doctor or nurse might be taking your ADHD medication by mistake causing them to be impaired and a danger to patients?”

Lucas stands there scared to give an answer that might have him punched. However, he knows silence will ensure his death so he gives a quick nod causing Amber to groan and turn to Owen Hunt who just entered the pit.

“Hunt!” Owen freezes at that shout that he registers as panic, “I need to attend to an emergency outside the pit and I need Adams with me.”

“DeLuca, we got patients, and they need-”

“Hunt I would never ask this of you unless it was life or death you know that and if you look at my face you will see the sheer panic and anxiety that will grow unless you let me go, now!”

Hunt looks shocked by that but complies knowing the resident well enough to see her fear, “I’ll page Parker and Kwan to cover you for the next hour.”

“Thank you.” Amber turns to her intern who looks panicked as well, “You’re with me so you can watch me clean up your mess. Again.”

Later

“It must be a hell of an aspirin to go through this much trouble.”

Amber rubs her eyes at that statement, “Carl you have no idea, just run the footage at 7:13 AM that’s when we got the paramedics with the patient and when my intern put his bottle at the station. And let’s keep this between the three of us unless something horrific happens and I need to get a lawyer, so I don’t lose income for my family.”

Lucas looks down in shame at that comment knowing it would be his fault if Amber got fired for his mistake. Despite how blunt she is and how much she reprimands him, he knows it’s because it’s her job to make sure he does better next time. But even when his focus becomes clear he still screws up. It makes him more frustrated at himself and everyone else around him.

The security guard goes over the security footage of the pit at Amber’s command. Meanwhile, Amber and Lucas are speaking privately a few feet away from the desk. She speaks to Lucas in a low voice so no one can hear them.

“Why do you keep your Adderall in a bottle of aspirin?” Amber asks sternly, “They already have them in orange pill bottles telling people who they’re for and what they are.”

“I-I didn’t want people to find out. I just got diagnosed I’m trying to find my footing and I’m getting used to my meds.” Lucas replies truthfully, “Everybody already thinks I’m a screwup especially my family I didn’t want to give them an excuse to hammer on me more or reasons that explain why I screwed up so much. But I can see that I didn’t think it through.”

“Gee you think?” Amber asks sarcastically causing Lucas to look up in shame. Remorse falls on the resident who tries to mend her words, “Look I am not shaming you for being neurodivergent. Half of my classmates in med school had ADHD, as long as you are finally working on getting treatment you have my support. But you have to understand that accidentally drugging medical professionals is severely frowned upon and could lead to both of us getting fired. Do you understand now why we keep pills in orange bottles?”

Lucas nods, “Yes I understand now it won’t happen again.”

“See to it that it doesn’t.” Amber sighs looking at the tape, “We just have to hope whoever took your aspirin didn’t take any. There! I see someone reaching over the station! Run it again.”

Amber and Lucas lean forward to get a closer look at the footage. They see a woman in a lab coat rubbing her temple and leaning against the station before grabbing the bottle and taking it with her. The footage stops as her face comes to full view revealing it to be Amelia Shepherd.

Lucas sees this and sighs at this unfortunate turn of events, “And it keeps getting better.”

Later

Amber bursts through the surgical doors searching for the chief of neuro. She darts her eyes around the area hoping that Amelia is prepping and not in an OR high on speed. Amber spots Amelia speed walking to the gowning station looking jittery as she takes a pair of booties before sitting down where her leg is shaking against the floor. The chief resident knows what this means causing her to gingerly approach Shepherd.

“Dr. Shepherd.”

Amelia smiles up at the chief resident before responding at hyper pace, “Hey Amber, let me ask you do you ever have one of those days where you have all this energy in your body and you just want to work out until you get it all out? I hate running so my outlet is surgery which is where I’m headed right now. Aneurism clip it’s nothing to it, just go in and out, it’s like when my college roommate had a guy over oof let me tell you she knew the definition of in and out.”

“Okay I need you to be honest with me right now, did you take aspirin this morning?”

“Yeah it didn’t work I still got the headache and I was excited to crush a stuffed crust pizza for lunch but I wasn’t in the mood.”

Amber nods bitterly, “Yep that tracks. Okay my friend you and I are gonna take a nice walk to the attendings lounge, let’s go.” She links her arm to Amelia’s who follows confused.

“But I have a surgery.”

“No you do not, your nephew will explain in a bit just keep walking and maybe don’t talk so much for all of our sakes.” Amelia keeps quiet allowing Amber to guide her to the attendings lounge where Adams is waiting anxiously.

“I-Is she…?�� Lucas asks.

“Oh yeah.” Lucas groans at that confirmation. Amber grabs a water bottle from the fridge and hands it to Amelia who paces back and forth high on speed, “Hydrate now.”

“So bossy.” Amelia sips her water and ends up chugging it empty, “Oh wow I needed that, thanks.”

“Yeah, I don’t think your gonna feel thankful with what we’re about to tell you.” Amber turns to Adams who has his hands behind his head leaning against the fridge with a worried face, “Tell her. Your aunt, your mess. I’ll be in the pit when you’re done, I’ll call Link and tell him the situation.” Amber leaves the room with Amelia looking at Lucas confused.

Lucas sighs before getting off the fridge and approaching his aunt with guilt etched on his face. Amelia is still pacing in the room, “Um aunt Amelia…that aspirin you took it wasn’t aspirin it was my Adderall for my ADHD.”

Amelia stops pacing and faces Lucas with a wide-eyed expression, “…What?”

“That was my aspirin bottle you took only I don’t keep aspirin in it I keep my Adderall in it. I was diagnosed with ADHD two weeks ago and I’ve been taking it ever since, I am so sorry.”

Amelia’s bliss extinguishes at this and is replaced with shock, “Lucas! Oh my god! I am high right now! I’m six years sober I am a mom I cannot slip especially not now!”

“I-I-I didn’t think anybody was gonna take it.” Lucas explains clumsily.

“Then why did you keep speed in an aspirin bottle to begin with?!” Amelia asks frustrated, “I almost went into surgery strung out of my mind! I am in people’s brains for a living do you know how much focus and steadiness that requires?”

“I didn’t mean to get you high. And it’s not like you knew I mean doesn’t AA make exceptions for this?”

Amelia scoffs, “Recovery means being sober at all times it’s not like cheating on a diet or skimping on chores, it could mean ruined lives! God how is it you got me involved in your mess again?”

“My mess?” Lucas asks clearly triggered, “You think this is all my fault? I tell you I’m taking meds for my neuro disorder, and you somehow turn it around and make me the Black Shepherd again? Are you freaking kidding me?!”

Amelia is startled by his yelling and he continues, “Did you ever stop to wonder why I’m like this? Hyperactivity, lack of attention, inability to focus, irritated easily, I read all of those symptoms online and it all made sense to me so why didn’t it make sense to all of you?! Everybody called me lazy and stupid even my own family and your freaking doctors, neurosurgeons how could you have missed this?!”

Amelia frowns at this as her frustration passes and guilt settles in as her nephew continues ranting, “You know I get mom and dad and even Uncle Derek but you…you know what it’s like to be different to be seen as messed up and yet you took one look at me and thought the same things they did why?! It’s not like ADHD is rare and you go into people’s brains for a living, neurological issues are yours and Uncle Derek’s main language! Maybe if any of you had seen it and caught it early, I could have gotten treatment, I could have gotten this under control, I could have been something. I could have gotten better grades, got into the best colleges like you and Derek. I could have been a better doctor but instead you like everyone else in my life thought I was stupid, why?!”

Amelia is stunned silent by this struggling to respond causing Lucas to scoff, “You know what forget it, I’m going back to the pit. At least there are people there that don’t think I’m just another lazy idiot.” With that Lucas storms out slamming the door behind him leaving Amelia to stew in her guilt.

That Night

“Okay Scout is down.” Link proclaims as he enters his ex-girlfriends living room where she is sitting on the couch looking at the coffee table in torment, “I’m gonna stay here until you feel better and make sure you call your sponsor. How are you feeling? Are the symptoms subsiding?”

“Mostly.” Amelia answers in a numb tone, “I still feel thirsty, and I still got the headache that’s grown with the knowledge that I just broke my sobriety after six agonizing years.”

Link looks at Amelia in sympathy and sits down on the couch next to her, “You thought it was aspirin, something over the counter. You didn’t intend to get high; you didn’t intend to endanger yourself, your patients or our son. It was an accident, and you won’t do it again.”

Amelia darkly chuckles, “Yeah that’s what I said over ten years ago when I accidentally drank champagne at a friend’s wedding thinking it was ginger ale. (Private Practice Season 4 Episode 20) I played it off as an accident, a mistake and I ended up prescribing myself oxy and waking up to my fiancé who OD’d beside me. I fell until I hit rock bottom and it almost killed me.”

“So, you know not to do that again.” Link encourages, “Because you know if you do your son might have to grow up without a mom around. A good mom who is trying her best even when life throws hurdles at her. You stayed sober after Ryan, you stayed sober after Christopher, you stayed sober during a pandemic. You earned those 6 years, don’t let one accident mess up your progress. You know what happens if you do so I know you won’t do that again, you just have to know that too.”

Amelia looks at Link flattered knowing no matter what they will still love each other even if they are not together anymore. She also knows he will be her cheerleader when she feels the weight of the world on her shoulders, and she will forever appreciate it.

“Thank you.” Amelia sips her water bottle.

“How are you feeling otherwise? Are you okay?”

Amelia purses her lips, “Well I feel good about keeping my sobriety, I didn’t intend to get high and I don’t intend to ever. Although I feel guilt and depressed over being the worst aunt in the entire world so that’s not great.”

“You’re not the worst aunt in the entire world.”

“My nephew says otherwise.” Amelia retorts bitterly, “And why shouldn’t he? I like everybody else in my family thought he was a mess. He never followed instructions, he had to do everything his own way, his grades were barely passable, all that time I never thought there was something to explain why he was like that. I never thought he could have a learning disorder, and I am not only a terrible aunt but a horrible doctor as well. I remove inoperable tumors; I paved the way to cure Parkinson’s and yet I couldn’t see that my nephew was suffering from ADHD.”

“You weren’t the only one who didn’t see it.” Link reminds her, “His mom didn’t see it but then again I met her so I’m guessing she had expectations for her kid bordering on perfection.”

“You have no idea.” Amelia confirms with an exasperated tone, “But I know what it’s like to be considered the Black Shepherd so I could have understood his struggles better. I could have helped him; I could have been his safe haven, but I wasn’t because his mother drove me crazy, and I avoided her except on Christmas and birthdays and Lucas was a casualty. I wasn’t around as much as I should have been, and he suffered because of it.”

“Did you get a degree in diagnosing neuro divergent disorders at the drop of a hat?” Link asks causing Amelia to glare at him, “I’m not trying to be a jerk I am just saying this disorder can be missed even by doctors like you. Maybe you could have caught this if you were around more or maybe you couldn’t, we’ll never know. What happened in the past happened and you can’t change that, that’s what they teach you in AA right?”

“Yeah.”

“How does that saying go? Accept the things you can’t change…”

Amelia inhales and exhales before finishing, “Gain the courage to change the things you can and the wisdom to know the difference.”

“Yeah that’s right, you can’t change Lucas getting diagnosed sooner you and I both know that.” Amelia nods solemnly, “But you can change what happens from now on now that he’s been diagnosed. You can give him the help you wanted to give him when he was younger. Maybe when he sees how hard you’re working to make up for your lack of attention he’ll realize he has a pretty cool aunt on his side. And if he doesn’t then it’s his loss, what do you say?”

Amelia looks at Link in thought before her brain comes up with ideas to help her nephew and make up for her mistakes.

Three Days Later

Lucas is in the living room of what used to be his Aunt Meredith’s house and is how his, Griffith’s and Yasuda’s. He is reading from his flashcards that Nick Marsh gave him to help him study for the ABSITE’s.

Marsh told him it helped him pass with flying colors and thought Lucas could benefit from it as well. Lucas finds this to be true as the medical notes are easy to read with examples to help. He knows even if he caught this too late at least someone like Nick can guide him through it unlike his own family.

He hears the door opening and closing but is deep in his notes to look up, “Did you get any Chinese? I’m starving.”

“No but I brought sushi.” The familiar voice makes Lucas look up to find it’s his aunt Amelia holding up a takeout bag with a guilty face, “I thought it would be the first step in the Aunt Amelia apology train.”

Lucas is stumped by this gesture and almost wants to welcome it. However, he is still angry towards Amelia and feels his outburst was warranted. Their relationship has been fraught since he joined the program, but he feels he can’t forgive and forget knowing she like so many others let him down when he needed help the most.

He looks back down on his notes and replies icily, “I’m not hungry.”

Amelia is not mad, she knows it’s gonna take more than Japanese takeout to make up for her short sightedness, “I get it, I would give the cold shoulder too after what I said the other day. I wouldn’t be so cold and silent though I would be belligerent and give a verbal lashing that could rival yours three days ago.”

“What do you want?” Lucas asks impatiently, “Are you here to try to get me to tell your sponsor that I accidentally got you high so there’s only one screw up in the family?”

“Lucas I could be 20 years sober, and I would still be the screw up in the family.” Amelia retorts half amused, “And my sponsor believed me and didn’t change my sobriety date, so I am good on that front. Now I am moving on to making things right with my nephew who gave me an Oscar worthy speech the other day so to start I am sorry. I will elaborate further.”

Lucas holds his hand up to stop her, “Look let’s not do this. No amount of sorry is gonna change what happened and it’s not gonna make 12-year-old me get diagnosed and treated. Now I am sorry for accidentally getting you high, I can see now orange pill bottles exist for a reason and I will use them from now on. I’m working out to combat the symptoms and I’m improving on my work so much that even Amber DeLuca is impressed. We can work together without any more incidents and outbursts. Let’s just…keep things professional from now on okay? I think it’s best for all of us.”

Amelia looks hurt by this for a moment before gaining the courage to work harder on her apology, “You didn’t mean to get me high; I know that and I also know that me saying your ADHD ruined my life was a low blow. I should have handled it better, I should have taken into account why it took so long for you to get treatment. And your right things could have been different if you had gotten this diagnosed as a kid. Maybe I could have seen it if I was around more when your were a kid. College, med school, residency are all time consuming, and sacrifices were made. Also, your mom has made it her life’s mission to remind me of my mistakes every time I come and visit so that kept me away as well. I think you know as well as I do that your mother, while I love her is not the most likable person to be around for long periods of time. She can be snarky, brash, judgmental, hold on to grudges and just an outright bitch on occasion.”  

“Hey!” Lucas snaps looking up with a glare, “Just because I’m mad at her doesn’t mean I’ll stay quiet while you insult her, that’s my mother you’re talking about.”

“And she’s my sister so I get to talk bad behind her back all I want.” Lucas rolls his eyes, “My point is that I can’t change the past short of getting a time machine we can’t diagnose you earlier and support you when you needed it most. The past is in the past and there’s no way to go back and correct all the mistakes we’ve done.”

“You’re really lifting my spirits here.” Lucas remarks sarcastically still reading his notes.

“I can’t change what happened, but I can change what happens moving forward.” Lucas looks up for the first time without venom instead he has curiosity in his eyes, “You say that you could have accomplished more if we caught this earlier, you say that like it’s too late but it’s not. You’re still young, you’re an intern, you’re at the prime of your career where you have so many opportunities to live up to the family name. It’s what you want to do, and I am gonna help you do that because it’s what I would have wanted when I lived in our pedestal family’s shadow.”

Lucas looks at Amelia with tenderness at this offer as she continues, “Now I am working to develop my Parkinsons research and while it’s not nominated maybe it will win me the Catherine Fox award next year. Assisting me on that could pave the path you want and finally show our family screwed up doesn’t mean stupid. What do you say?”

Lucas sighs as his anger begins to subside with this offer. For so long he wanted to be seen as good enough in his family and now his world-class surgeon aunt is offering to help him with that. It makes him want to take her offer, but his loyalty matters more to him.

“I wish I could but I’m already helping Dr. Marsh with his genetically modified pig livers. He’s already nominated, and I hope he wins, it can give people like him and me a role model to look up to.”

Amelia is taken back by this rejection but is oddly pleased with this loyalty from her nephew, “That is very admirable of you. Nick Marsh is a good man, and he helped you when all of us failed you so he more than earned your assistance. He can help you be the surgeon he and I know you can be.”

Lucas nods at this before speaking in comfort, “Well you’re the first person besides Uncle Derek and Nick who said that about me, if that counts for something.”

Amelia grins at this start to a more stable relationship between them before the food calls to her, “Well the offer still stands but until then are you hungry for sushi now? I know it’s not Chinese but I promise I got goodies in here for us both.”

Lucas is enticed by the smell of food as his hunger grows, “What did you get?”

“Yellowtail jalapeno for me, spicy tuna on crispy rice for you and wonton tacos for both of us.”

Lucas salivates at that before putting his notes away, “Okay but I get most of the tacos.”

Amelie chuckles, “You do not want to challenge me on that trust me.” She sits down next to him on the couch taking the food out so they can eat together as a family for what will hopefully be the start of a new and better beginning between them.

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for keeping a woman in my basement?

(TTRPG character)

I know the title sounds pretty damning, but hear me out.

For context, I (59M, but space elf so more like 29/30 for humans) am the president of a very new country in a planetary system on the verge of war. We recently won a revolution against our oppressors, after which they started out cordial but have become less and less friendly. Otherwise, I’ve been maintaining good relations with my neighbors and am hoping that we might all be able to work things out peacefully until all this happened.

About 2 months into my presidency (and my nation’s existence), a delirious woman who I’ll call E2 (?F, fish person) showed up wandering the halls of my country’s capitol building. I took her into my best doctors’ care, and she’d stabilized a bit, we asked her some questions with a lie detector. She gave her name and claimed to be the queen of the fish people’s country, and not only did she pass the lie detector test, but her DNA matched that of the royal family of her nation. However, I’ve never heard of E2, and I only know of someone else, E1 (48F, but fish person so more like 64ish for humans) as the current queen of that nation. However, other than the ruler and location, I knew nothing about them at the time.

I thought E2 might be a refugee or exile, so I immediately classified her existence and ongoing treatment under the highest clearance my country has and moved her to an underground floor in my personal residence to recuperate until I knew more about the situation. In the meantime, I started writing letters back and forth with E1, and gradually began to trust her as we opened up to each other and made plans to meet in person. I may have also been developing something of a crush on her, but that’s neither here nor there.

Meanwhile, my correspondance with V (49F, human), the leader of my people’s former enslavers, kept getting more and more hostile. She told me she “knew what (I) (was) doing,” which I ignored, but things snapped once I refused a treaty with her over her continued use of slave labor, panicked thinking she would invade my nation, and broke our DMZ. She was furious, and I could barely appease her.

Then E2 had a seizure. She’s recovered and I think it had more to do with the first star appearing in our sky than anything I or my doctors did, but it made me realize I wasn’t equipped to care for her alone. On top of that, I started to wonder if E2 really was E1’s sister, as her disease sounded like something my best friend J (38M, human) described as something visitors to our planetary system get. I resolved to say something to everyone as soon as I knew for sure.

Then about a week ago, nearly 4 months to the day after E2 showed up, our local sentient supercomputer, T (?F, sentient supercomputer), sent out a mass email to all the leaders of the planetary system saying that there were parallel universes and that people from those had been making their way into ours. Her friend K (50s F, human) confirmed that E2 was one, and that she was dying because she was outside her home dimension. I immediately told T the whole story, and then E1. Both of them fully understood that I was just trying to keep E2 safe but encouraged me to continue with my announcement. E1 and I still had a lovely dinner afterwards, and I think she might be reciprocating my feelings.

But the other day, V invaded the fish people’s country, and I declared war on her nation in response (mostly about justice for the years of slavery my people went through; jumping to E1's defense just gave me an excuse and some backbone). V gave me 5 days to back down before she would release photos of me in the hall outside E2’s hospital room. I was about to send off my announcement anyway, so I told her I didn’t care, and then sent her a furious letter telling her she didn’t have the capacity for morality and that I was going to end her empire once and for all.

V made good on her threat, and somehow blocked my announcement for going out. Now pretty much all the world leaders except E1 and T are against me because as far as they know I've had a secret hostage for months. Even J wrote to me telling me he didn’t want to be friends anymore. I know they don’t have all the information about E2 and why I was keeping her, and I would be furious too if I knew one of my colleagues had someone locked in their basement, but I still feel awful. So AITA?

[olderthannetfic]

https://olderthannetfic.tumblr.com/post/733536361807806464/you-know-what-medical-pet-peeve-i-kind-understand

To "answer" the first point: I know why it's a requirement, that's why I started of with "I kind understand it but I still find it stupid and hate it." I could have made it clearer that I know exactly why, but I didn't want to spend too much time on it. But to elaborate, when I was told about the requirement to take birth control, I also got an entire 10 page A4 pamphlet with every side effect and explanation as to what to expect, and what/why I'd need to do, and why I'd need to take birth control. I understood the reasoning they gave, but I also found it dumb because I'm just not in the "risk" category because I simply do not engage in any activities that could result in a pregnancy, nor would I have an interest in carrying one out if it still magically happened. Sorry Jesus 2.0. Also, I'm not in the US, and where I am abortions are legal and accessible.

As to the IUD thing. The dermatologists I spoke to, two of them, said that even if I did use a IUD I'd still be required to take birth control because it might fall out, and they also said that it's an issue of them having to prescribe the birth control together with the Isotretinoin. Basically the birth control and the acne medicine would have to be prescribed by the same doctor as a confirmation that I'm not doing it without birth control, and since they don't do IUD's it wouldn't "count" even if it was a valid option, which it isn't. No clue what happens if another doctor already prescribes a patient Birth control.

As to just not taking the birth control, I actually don't know what they'd do if you don't take the birth control, best case they don't care, worst case they might just deny me from getting the medicine I actually want I guess. I also don't know if the piss test also covers checking for the birth control, what I do know is that it tests for pregnancy, and you also get a blood test to test the liver status. Idk what more it does, I don't remember everything from the pamphlet.

There were no notes on what happens if you still get pregnant even if you're on the BC, I'm guessing you'd be taken off Isotretinoin. Not sure, didn't ask, I'm not planning on getting pregnant so it wasn't a question on my mind.

Also since I'm already talking about the pamphlet. If you are a woman, a person with an uterus, or are listed as female like on your birth certificate, you have to take birth control. Which was kinda funny because it seems to cover everyone except cis men. Menopause, transmen, even if you've had your tubes tied/hysterectomy you'd have to take it. And trans women, though I'm not sure if that was just a "cover our asses" and you don't actually have to take it if you have medical proof of being a transwoman.

It's honestly just very frustrating because I understand the reasoning, but it also makes people like me completely unable getting a treatment which could help me with a giant insecurity and give me a quality of life upgrade, just because I can't take birth control without giant side effects that could make my life much worse. Just because some people decided to fuck around and find out. It feels kinda like I'm being punished and forced towards a basically impossible choice, because of the dumb choices of others.

You know, just because some people are dumb, they ruin it for everyone who's not dumb.

TMI originally I took birth control to try and fix my skin, which is why I know the side effects on my body and stopped. I remember at some point in my teens my insecurity was so bad, and my mental health, if I had been given the information of this medication that could help me and then been basically told that I can't take it unless I again take a medication that I know causes me so much pain and I think I might have done something to myself. Like I mentioned when using birth control I had "bloating, nausea, periods , weight fluctuation, itchy for some reason, one even made me leak and then my breasts got so badly inflamed wearing a shirt was agony..." to add and explain it made my periods worse, including cramping and instead of helping with my skin it actually made that worse. I have no idea why birth control made me itchy but it also ended up with me constantly have welts all over my body because I kept scratching, maybe it somehow made me my skin more sensitive and "thin". I tried a few birth controls because my doctor back then tried to find one that worked, and none of them did.

--

You could be allergic to anything in the pills from the actual hormones to the dyes, though this description does sound like online descriptions of reactions to synthetic progesterone. Very annoying.

[boobblog]

little backstory...

Lets all imagine a time in our lives that we felt safe, secure and like things had finally found a way of figuring themselves out. The bills are paid, everyone is healthy, we are happy. But, you feel off. Not sick, not hurt, but so very tired. This isn't all too foreign to imagine right?

I've done everything the hard way. I had to figure things by myself. I wanted ownership over my life. I had been pursuing my degree for over 20 years. I'm not exaggerating either. Nursing school- check, Associates degree in Criminal Justice- Check, and finally my bachelor's degree. It is not a biology degree like I set out to accomplish, but it is finished, Summa Cum Laude too. Because I am a nerd and worked so hard and for so long. So I was feeling a sense of relief, freedom, opportunity and even had some energy!

Obviously, I took this time to make myself a priority. My body more specifically. I had abused it with sleepless nights, way too much caffeine, wine and mood stabilizers. All of those things are not bad, they were necessary at the time, but I was feeling the effects of not taking better care of myself. Step one go to the doctor.

I started getting mammograms in 2023 because I felt a lump. It took me using some pull in the hospital I work with because no one thinks an otherwise healthy 39 year old needs to do preventative screenings for something she doesn't have a family history of. But, I pushed until I got the order. I got the mammo, then I got a call that my tissue is very dense and I need to come back for an ultrasound to confirm. Do the ultrasound, and I hear nothing back. We watch and wait a year.

It's been a year now, and a day before my birthday. Aug 6, 2024. I go for my mammogram and everything felt different. I'm not saying I'm a witch or anything, but I fucking knew then. I knew it. As per the usual, mammo is abnormal- dense breast tissue- but this time I'm coming back for a second look ultra sound with the radiologist. That's weird. She tells me that last year I had calcifications present in the left breast at the time of my previous ultrasound.

SCREEECHHHHHH, excuse me? Calcifications are pre indications that something is afoot! Had anyone mentioned calcifications last year I would have been the poster child for preventative treatment. I would have done fucking anything to not be where I am right now.

Anyway, the calcifications are now a fully formed mass, a boob dude if you will. Only now he brought some friends to hang out too. Sweet, I just turned 40, graduated college (but never got to walk across a stage) and now an unwelcome Boob Dude hanging out with his buddies in my boob!

Next step biopsy. It was on a Monday, 9/23/2024 and I thought I would be going straight to work afterward, hahahahaha. That was a cute thought. My parents drove up for this. We all knew it was cancer, but no one wanted to say anything. Listen, when they say it won't hurt, they're lying to you.

I'm at work the next day and cannot function knowing my results are in. I work in pediatric surgery with some of the most intelligent surgeons. We order biopsies and refer patients to oncology all the time. I know the process, I do the process daily. To say being at work is triggering is an understatement. Anxiety and PTSD are a bitch to live with, so some things are harder than they should be.

Anywho. I get the report and I see measurements, locations, and the word carcinoma. Spiraling, I ask one of the surgeons to read my report.

"Aw shucks Britt, there's something there."

The air left my body and I felt like a shell floating through time and space with people looking at me, waiting for me to say something. People don't like being uncomfortable, especially when big things happen to other people. So I did what I always do. FUCKING PANIC!

Internally of course, what, how, why, all the thoughts were there at the same time and I of course was crying. It was maybe 10 mins later when I got a call from my gynecologist office saying I needed to come in. You see, they're the ones that ordered my mammogram, so the results go to her. If your doctor is not listening to you, and you feel like something needs to be done, TALK TO A DIFFERENT DOCTOR!

Luke left work and met me at the office. We walked across the street to the hospital, up to her office, and in 3 minutes I was looking her in the eyes when she said "Brittany, you have invasive ductal carcinoma, it's small but will require surgery...."

I dissociated. Another lovely PTSD symptom that sometimes can be very handy. Luke looks at me in the hallway outside her office and I just melted. How in the hell did I get cancer? What did I do to deserve all the shit I've been dealt? What in the hell does this mean?

"Just stay positive, you are a survivor already, go kick cancer's ass!!!" That's what everyone says. It's like an immediate response. Like the entire country has been programmed to respond with empty affirmations meant to distract from the real shit that someone is dealing with. Keep the ugly stuff to yourself, don't put that negativity into the universe, blah blah... all I hear is that you are not comfortable with me. I'm not a surface level person, I want to know your secrets and what makes you feel peace. I want to know you've done the work to be self-aware so that you can sit in uncomfortable silence with me while I try to figure out how to keep going.

Many of you will not like what I am about to say, hopefully because you know me and my intentions, you will see this for what it is, a way of coping. There is no God. At least not an almighty sky daddy that will save me. He would've done that when I was raped, the first time. You see when bad shit happens to good people, we find others like us. That is God. The actions of people loving other people, feeding people, housing them, and supporting them. I don't know how or why we are here, but whatever is operating our existence is not a Man. I'm a feminist too if you haven't noticed. Trauma does that to people.

Now that you know I'm not religious, but rather extremely spiritual you may understand that I'm not thinking positively. I'm being real. I have cancer, everything I have to do hurts or makes me sick, I'm scared and you expect me to put on a happy face for you, you want me to pretend everything is fine, and ignore the fucking fire that is actually roaring, literally, in my body.

As I'm typing this, I am 7 days post a double mastectomy with expander placement. My cancer was growing rapidly and multiplying so getting rid of it was everyones priority. It's gone, but no one has told me I'm cancer free yet. I feel like that would be an important aspect to tell someone when the goal of the procedure is rid my body of the cancer.

I can ramble but I want some order to this, so I'll stop for now. My body looks monsterous, holler if you want pics, I've completely removed myself from my body (hello whoo whoo), but it's my body. And alive. That's good enough, for now.

[cbk1000]

Also, re: that terrible doctor (because my last appointment was so horrible and useless I can't fit all my complaints into one post), the cardiologist gave me some calcium channel blockers to help with high heart rate, but I stopped taking them because they didn't seem to be helping, they caused really bad fatigue, and also I'm worried about dropping my blood pressure if I take them long-term. My blood pressure has always been basically ideal during all of this, and I don't want to lower it too much because that will also cause issues.

So I mentioned this to my doctor, and that I had read there were beta blockers that were more targeted and would affect my heart rate but not my blood pressure as much; is that so, and if so, maybe it would be worth trying one of those while I get this all under control. He says, yes, there are more targeted beta blockers. Ok, cool, because I'm worried about the calcium channel blockers lowering my blood pressure too much. Him: Yes, your blood pressure would be a concern. Me: Ok, so is there a beta blocker I can try that wouldn't affect my blood pressure as much? Him: Reeee shots.

I never did get an answer out of him about whether I should try a different med.

Then he tells me he just wonders whether this is going to get worse, and I look right at him and remind him that I have told him, multiple times, across multiple appointments, that I have been improving, that several weeks ago I felt like I was dying, and now I can get out of bed quite a bit more and don't feel nearly as bad. But as I'm still mostly bedridden, and have been for three months now, could we please just try a small iron infusion and see if that helps speed up my recovery. I kind of want to, you know, go back to my life and job. He tells me if he's right about chronic fatigue and POTS, I'm going to be stuck like this for a long time. I have read a bit on both and am aware they are chronic conditions, but they are also managed through medication and physical therapy. I say, 'Yeah, but there are ways to manage those conditions.' (Btw, beta blockers are a common treatment for POTS.) He's told me I have two different chronic conditions caused by the Covid vaccine and given me no hope of any treatment and pretty much implied I am going to keep deteriorating and I am just going to have to wait for the neurologist to confirm, so I'm trying to prompt him into at least offering useful advice. He completely ignores me when I say there are ways to manage those conditions, does not reassure me at all, just starts in on Congress investigations or the doctor being 'persecuted' for inappropriately prescribing Ivermectin or whichever part of his rant he was on at that point.

He also actually DID admit at one point that low iron could be 'a component' of all this, but has no interest in treating it.

Also, why do these anti-vaxx people ride Ivermectin's dick so hard? Because Trump mentioned using it to treat Covid? This doctor has mentioned that he personally takes Ivermectin at almost every single appointment. Ok?? Take an anti-parasitic multiple times a week if you want, that's your business, what do you want me to say? Do you want me to ask for my own dose of worming medication so I can detox from the shot or whatever the hell you think Ivermectin does?

[piillow]

iii. jungsu's travels - sumeru

genshin impact x xdinary heroes au - piillow's slumber party special!

wc : 713 | genre : idk just silly, teeny tiny sad parts | a/n : not proofread, sorry :(

≡[。。]≡

“i think this is the right place…” jungsu said to himself as he approached the gates of sumeru city. as he walked around, he took a look at his map and confirmed he was indeed in sumeru city, the land of wisdom.

“now i just need to find the akademiya, i guess i’ll ask around.” he mumbled. he started to get desperate for some answers towards his sister’s disease, and decided to come here after lisa from the knights of favonius suggested he go to the akademiya. 

while he walked around, he noticed a blonde guy with a briefcase sitting alone at a restaurant table doing work. he seemed smart, so he might have a clue, right?

“um, excuse me, do you know where the akademiya is? it’s open to the public, right?” he asked, the awkwardness clear in his voice.

“the akademiya? oh, yes, it is. do you have to meet with someone there?” the man asked, to which jungsu shook his head.

“uhh…” he started, “it’s kind of hard to explain. i just want access to the library, that’s all.”

“sure! i’m assuming you need directions, so i’ll come with you. i need to go back anyway.” the man replied, starting to gather his things together.

while they walked, the two of them had a casual conversation, starting to learn some things about each other.

“so, jungsu, you don’t look like you’re from here. are you from… liyue?” kaveh questioned, genuinely curious.

“yes, i am. i’m here to hopefully find a cure to my sister’s disease. the doctor’s said they tried everything, but haven’t found anything that works… i’m worried for her.” jungsu said.

“hm… i see… well, i’m sorry about your sister, first of all. second, i should be able to get you someone who knows the place like the back of his hand.” kaveh scoffed. as much as he hated al haitham, he wanted to help jungsu as much as he could. he just hoped that al haitham would actually go along with it, and not turn jungsu down. it’s not the first time he’s rejected outsiders.

by the time they reached the akademiya, jungsu couldn’t help but stare in awe at the architecture of the building.

“wow… you said you’re an architecture, right? i can see why…” he said in amazement, to which kaveh chuckled.

when the two of them reached the library, kaveh laid his eyes on the one and only. he turned to jungsu, suppressing the urge to start trash-talking.

“there he is. his name is al haitham. he’s basically the leader of the akademiya, but he rejected it. the old grand sage was a power-hungry man, so i guess he doesn’t want the people to perceive him like that too. which, i guess is understandable.” he shrugged.

“he rejected it? huh, i guess it must’ve been really bad…” jungsu said, slightly surprised.

as they walked over to al haitham engaged in his book, kaveh cleared his throat.

“‘scuse me. you’ve got a visitor, and for good reason this time, i promise.” he stated, before turning to jungsu.

“oh, hi. i was just wondering where the books on diseases and medicine are? i’m trying to find a suitable medication for my sister with an unknown condition.” jungsu stated, hoping that al haitham wouldn’t ignore him. he seemed really cold and distant, which would definitely match kaveh’s descriptions…

“medicine? they’re just behind me. you look like you’re from liyue, maybe your sister has eleazar.” al haitham replied in his usual flat tone.

“no, it’s not. i tried giving her proper treatment for it, but nothing happened.” jungsu replied, starting to walk to the bookshelf.

while jungsu looked through the books, kaveh was catching up al haitham on everything he’s currently discovered. all his travels, his findings, and his failures.

since jungsu couldn’t stay in sumeru for very long, al haitham promised him that he’d send him letters whenever a new book came in, so he wouldn’t need to traverse so far. 

even after a whole year, al haitham hasn’t broken his promise. whenever jungsu receives a new letter from him, he likes to sit down with xingqiu and baizhu to discuss the new findings, and sometimes the extra messages from kaveh at the bottom of the letter.

[ozmatippetarius]

The Nembutal wasn't Henry's first attempt to poison Charles

Pretty late in the novel, Charles shares that Henry gave him a bottle of Nembutal capsules; Richard immediately recognizes this as a poisoning attempt and is horrified. (If you google "nembutal alcohol", like I did when confirming my understanding for this post, every result that comes up is a suicide hotline: that's how well-documented this interaction is.)

This isn't Henry's first attempt to poison Charles, though, although it's the first one recognized by the characters. Charles's "infection" that lands him in the hospital is. This one is a lot better planned-out and executed, and as a result is a lot less obvious to everybody. At this point Charles's mental health is in such a bad state that it's easy to believe that he could land himself in the hospital through poor self-care alone. I'll call out below a number of points that are pretty damning to Henry, though, from a narrative standpoint.

The hospital can't diagnose Charles's illness, and it resists treatment.

The doctors couldn’t figure out quite what was wrong with Charles. They’d tried two antibiotics over the course of the week, but the infection—whatever it was—didn’t respond. The third try was more successful.

If you've ever heard anything about poisoning cases, this will sound familiar. Even today, "It is difficult to determine whether a patient has been poisoned and, if so, what toxins caused the poisoning."

Henry discourages Richard from bringing Charles to the hospital.

After Richard picks up Charles, he tries to call Francis, who isn't home. Afterwards he calls Henry and is surprised when Francis answers the phone. Francis is clearly uncomfortable.

“Francis? What are you doing over there?” I said. “Oh, hello, Richard,” said Francis. He said it in a stagy way, as if for Henry’s benefit. “I guess you can’t really talk now.” “No.”

When Richard explains the situation, before Francis can give any sort of response, Henry takes the phone.

“Did you give him some aspirins?” “A few minutes ago.” “Well, then, why don’t you wait and see. I’m sure he’s fine.” This is exactly what I wanted to hear. “You’re right,” I said. “He probably caught cold sleeping out of doors. I’m sure he’ll be better in the morning.”

I'm obviously not suggesting that it's criminal for somebody to say the answer to a fever is "give him an aspirin, wait and see". I am suggesting, though, that narratively it's suspicious that Henry has apparently coerced Francis (the one person we know would be certain to say "go to the hospital") to come to his place, where he is clearly uncomfortable for reasons that are never explained to us, and takes the phone before Francis can make that recommendation.

Henry had opportunity to acquire poison.

“I mean,” he said, pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose, “that strictly in terms of virulence there are any number of excellent poisons, most of them far superior to this. The woods will be soon full of foxglove and monkshood. I could get all the arsenic I needed from flypaper. And even herbs that aren’t common here—good God, the Borgias would have wept to see the health-food store I found in Brattleboro last week. Hellebore, mandrake, pure oil of wormwood.… I suppose people will buy anything if they think it’s natural. The wormwood they were selling as organic insect repellent, as if that made it safer than the stuff at the supermarket. One bottle could have killed an army.”

Henry had access to poison Charles.

Just days before Charles ends up in the hospital, Henry has been in his apartment moving Camilla out. The novel actually goes out of its way to remind us of this, and call out that Henry has had his hands not only on Camilla's things but on Charles's that were left behind, by telling us that when Richard goes to the twins' apartment, "The place was ominously neat." (We've been previously told that both of the the twins are quite messy.)

Henry had motive to poison Charles.

Just a reminder: Charles and Francis were 100% not involved in the farmer's death, and serve as each other's alibis. I've written about this elsewhere, but I think it's clear that Camilla implicated herself intentionally to protect Henry (believing that Charles would never go to the police to report Camilla, when he very much would have reported Henry.)

We know that the twins' estrangement begins during the visit to the Corcorans' for the funeral. Francis speculates that Charles learned about Camilla's relationship with Henry during this time, and Richard is reminded that Cloke told him about a conversation between Camilla and Henry that he overheard on the phone, while Camilla thought he was asleep. Richard never gets more details of this phone call from Cloke, but Charles (who spent this entire visit hanging out with Cloke) certainly did.

I feel certain that whatever it was that Cloke overheard and shared with Charles was badly incriminating, and exposed that Camilla had been disingenuous about her involvement in the farmer's death. Imagine how shocking and awful that would have been for Charles to learn: instead of having participated in the murder of his friend to protect his sister, he actually did it to protect a man he actively hates.

I mean, this isn't jealousy. This is a more deep-rooted anger about a very serious betrayal.

“Have you talked to my sister?” he said to Francis. He said it in a very cold way, as if he were saying Have you talked to my lawyer? “Yes,” Francis said. “She’s all right?” “Seems to be.” “What does she have to say for herself?” “I don’t know what you mean.” “I hope you told her I said go to hell.”

(And I mean, if you do think that Charles is just jealous about their relationship here... this actually becomes quite funny. He was expecting Camilla to have spilled her guts to Francis about having left her incestuous relationship for another lover? Absurd.)

Anyway, this is all to say: at this point Charles is furious and no longer has as much reason to shield Henry for the farmer's killing. He's now a liability who could go to the police at any time.

This conversation between Richard and Henry while Charles is in the hospital.

As he said this, he trailed away. “There,” he said at last. “Does that look all right? Or do I need to open it up more in the middle?” “Henry,” I said. “Listen to me.” “I don’t want to take off too much,” he said vaguely. “I should have done this a month ago. The canes bleed if they’re pruned this late, but better late than never, as they say.”

[chasing-rabbits]

You know sometimes I really hate technology and people’s persistence to force it into everything possible. Or should I say businesses and vital services. My doctors surgery has now made it so all appointments to see a doctor have to be booked online. Except it’s not actually a booking system it’s an ‘econsult’ in which they can decide whether you are even able to get an appointment. Which okay I get people go to doctors when they don’t need too I get it wastes their time and puts more pressure on an over burdened system I REALLY really do get that but please if you are going to insist on gatekeeping my ability to talk to a doctor then at least fucking get your consult system right. I mean so first off they have a list of conditions/issues you can pick from except this list is TINY and excludes basic regular conditions like it literally did not have an option for blood pressure at all. So I had to go through a my options not available bit which then redirects me to a page where I have to confirm I do in fact want to see a doctor/continue with this econsult and not instead follow a link to the NHS’s self help advice page or 111. After explaining my concerns in a very 400 character limited box because thats absurd when it comes to someone’s health to then limit characters of course. But then it forces me to go through a bunch of options which are just copy paste from what happens when you call 111 lol. But then I say I’m just asking for advice not treatment or referral which is the 3 options but of course it eventually no matter how I answer leads me to a question in what is a long survey actually where I have to pick my symptoms from yet again a TEENY TINY list and no it does not have an ‘other’ box nor a way to continue without picking a symptom and oh boy I did not know picking the least offensive symptom ‘headaches’ was going to lead me down a 20 question rabbit hole. I JUST WANT TO DISCUSS MY HIGH BLOOD PRESSURE why must you hate me so. It’s not even like I wanted to discuss something that isn’t a probably very bog standard every day appointment for them. I want advice on my blood pressure readings why would you assume I have symptoms. I also loved how they had one singular option under the symptoms list that related to mental health in any way and it was just ‘low mood or panic’ wow that really encapsulates the full spectrum of reasons anyone w/ mental health concerns would be reaching out. The GP surgery after me phoning them back up to let them know my predicament & to ensure my triage didn’t just get thrown out since I very clearly did not answer how they wanted & did not have the issues they forced me to pick said ‘oh we’re working on that’. How about don’t make something live without it being properly finished because you know if someone cannot properly explain the gravity of their situation and symptoms then you are going to end up w/ people being triaged as ‘not needing appointments’ when they may very much so need appointments. And yes I am sure I sound fucking old at my hatred for technology rant but seriously it’s’ enouhg to drive anyone insane.

[lordfreg]

hi feg :)

HRU?? I havent been able to chat or talk 2 u or even CHECK UP in on u in awhile and im sorry 😞😞mb chat—

ANYWAYS. Here to checkup on the awesome wonderful talented amazing extraordinary artist and friend.

Have you . . . EATEN THREE MEALS, DRINKEN A WATERBOTTLE, SLEEP EIGHT HOURS AND TAKE BREAKS??

EEEEKKKKKKK HIIIIIII FREANKIIEEEEEE I MISSED YOU SOOO MUUCCCHHHH!!!!!! 🖤🖤🖤🖤💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💜🖤💜🖤🖤💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤💜💫🖤💫🖤💫💜💜🖤💫🖤💜🖤🖤💜

When I got this yesterday I basically said I was fine, but I'm going to be absolutely transparent; I am extremely unhappy

(tw su!c!de)

I think I don't think I'll be able to make it through next year. If I do, amazing! Epic!

But if I dont; it's not anyone's fault. Shit just happens sometimes and it's fine

I'm growing more and more exhausted and I'm breaking out in autoimmune rashes. My mental health has been on a decline, and I'm thinking about just dropping everything

I'm not getting help or the treatment I need. It hasn't been fun so far. As lexie can confirm, I freaked out a few days ago because of spiders

I'm working on saving to move out and go away for college because the mental health resources here are unhelpful, judgmental and gossipy

And im now finding out I may or may not have extreme psychosis and ASPD (antisocial personality disorder) and I don't want anyone to look at me differently for it. And I especially don't want people in this town knowing that.

My hallucinations are getting worse, I'm literally getting so exhausted I can't bare to draw for more than an hour a day. I want to draw nonstop, but I get tired like I just did gymnastics when I do.

So in conclusion; I'm not doing good and it hasn't been fun for me.

I might have parasites(???), but I haven't bene to the doctor in over 2 years because last time I went he took anxiety from my diagnosis because "I didn't look like I have anxiety"

I eat one meal a day, usually chicken, and have two protein shakes. I'm getting too exhausted to even get food anymore

I have powered through unhelpful lectures, exercise, daily chores, babysitting, work, family, etc.

It hasn't been fun to only work out because I'm angry. I've had 0 energy to do anything, and I haven't been motivated enough to do anything <- I literally had to put my phone down to rest

I literally am just typing my best to duck tape myself together so I can last a little longer. It's been really, really rough and I've been pacing in circles talking to myself because I don't have anyone to talk to.

Sure I have friends, but like, why would I ever say anything to them? Probably when I'm open and honest I sound like a complete pyscho hbhjjjjjkjjjnnj

I think the only thing keeping me from snapping is the fact I'm too tired to do anything.

Look, I'm really sorry if I disappointed you, or I seem like a cry baby, or I'm just a downer, I am in extreme mental turmoil constantly.

I am trying my best to keep it together.

Thank you for your time