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ha-18t · 4 months

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Oguro Kafka - Thanatophobia

Novel

Chapter 1

💬 Translation under the cut!

...

That day, I woke up in the same hospital room.

The seven year old me sighed. The bright white room was in the children’s ward of Daikoku Hospital. For as long as I could remember, I had been in and out of the hospital, but recently I had not been able to go back home at all. That house on the wharf was only faintly visible in my memory.

“I wonder if my father will visit today… or maybe my mother…”

I might have been physically sick, but that didn’t mean I was unhappy.

My family would always take time off of work to visit me. My father, who was the tourism director, and my mother, who was a scientist, would always visit my room.

The times when my mother would visit were always interesting - she was extremely well-informed and would always have a story to tell me.

My father was… Well, he would just tell me it was lonely without me in the house. But he would always do his best to express his feelings to me. That was how I received his love.

“But… I’m going to die someday, right?”

Looking out the window and into the clear sky above, I whispered that to myself.

I couldn’t go outside, I couldn’t go to school. I had no friends. I wasn’t the only one in the children’s ward, but it felt like everybody kept me at arm’s length. Well, it could have been because I didn’t act my age, or maybe because my family was a household name in HAMA.

“You’re a bit special.” My mother would tell me,

“But being special is a blessing, Kafka. If everybody was the same as you, what would make you stand out?”

But was that my mother’s belief? Or my own?

Either way, if my life ends early, what sort of blessing would my special-ness have given me? If I were to die right now, what would I even have been born for?

Neither of my parents showed up that day, so I asked for permission to go up to the rooftop garden.

Although the garden was simple, it had a bench for me to read and think on. That day, there was a small bird laying dead on the concrete. It must have hit something and fell. The little bird’s eyes were closed and it was completely limp.

‘Poor thing’, I thought for a moment. I thought it would be a good idea to bury it. But, I wasn’t sure if somebody as frail as I was should have been handling a dead, wild bird. I asked my nurse, who gave me a mask and gloves, and I buried it in the courtyard of the hospital.

Despite its sudden death, I didn’t think we were that different from each other. Just like the bird, I could have had a sudden heart attack, fell over, and died on the rooftop garden. And I would have just wanted the person who found me to be kind to me.

The nurse left, and I just stood there in front of the little bird’s grave. Suddenly, a shadow cast over me. I looked up and saw my mother, clad in her white uniform. She must have left work early.

“You buried a little bird?”

My mother definitely heard it from the nurse.

“Yes, it was dead.”

I was sure the bird was dead, but even through the gloves I could feel its body, heavier and warmer than I was expecting. It made me wonder if it was still alive.

“One day, will I also be like that bird?”

“….”

My mother suddenly fell silent, then asked me…

“What do you think it means to be ‘dead’?”

“Isn’t it when your heart stops beating?”

“Or, maybe when your thoughts stop?”

My mother took my hand and pulled me towards a bench in the courtyard so we could talk.

“Some people even believe that a person only truly dies when all memories of them are gone.”

With that said, my mother continued with the subject.

“The current Japanese medical definition for death is cardiac arrest, cessation of respiration, loss of the light reflex, and dilation of the pupils. Legally, you can define death as the cessation of respiration and a general inability to resuscitate.”

“Is animal death the same?”

“If we are only talking about physical death, then death can simply be defined as the irreversible departure from life.”

My mother led me to the bench and then sat down beside me.

The wind blew gently through the courtyard, and I could faintly smell chemicals from my mother’s work uniform. The scent was sterile, tranquil, and cold. I didn’t dislike it.

“So, yes. All life on Earth is dependent on carbon polymers. When you look at it that way, the process of dying isn’t that different between humans and other things on Earth. Either way, the body stops, decomposes, becomes microbial fertilizer, and leaves behind everything that isn’t usable.”

My mother talked about death so bluntly.

She stroked my head and asked me, “What do you think about death, Kafka?”

I thought for a moment, and decided to tell her what had been going through my mind.

“No matter what, all living things die… So I shouldn’t be afraid… but really, I’m not sure. Sometimes I feel as if I’m going to die, but I’m still alive.”

My mother kept stroking my head, and lapsed back into silence.

At some point, her hand stopped.

“I am… a thanatophobe. Death has always been… a huge fear of mine. When I was giving birth to you, I was terrified.”

The usually intense voice of my mother suddenly seemed so small. I looked up to meet her face, and she was staring far into space as if lost in thought.

But in a split second, my mother’s face turned to a smile.

She pulled me close to her chest and hugged me wistfully, squeezing my arms.

“Of course, I’m so happy that I gave birth to you.” She added.

“…But, I wish it had been a healthier birth. There are some things you only learn when you’re close to death. I know that from experience.”

It’s very rare for my mother to make such a negative statement. Rarely, and really only rarely, would my mother say something so gloomy. Only when she would talk about my body, or my death.

My mother and I look so much alike. My father would always say that. He’s so proud that I inherited my mother’s beautiful face and smarts. He wishes I wasn’t so sick though. He doesn’t say it, but I know he thinks it.

“Kafka, unlike me, there’s a major surgery you can have when you’re an adult. It’s possible to make a full recovery. If you live until 20, you will likely have a healthy future.”

“Unlike you…?”

“I…”

After saying that, my mother couldn’t get a clear word out. I didn’t know what to do. My mother had a job, but just like me, she was always bedridden and in and out of the hospital a lot.

“Kafka, let’s make a bet. If you live until 20, I’ll give you a surprise.”

“Huh?”

I wanted to ask her if she would be alive then, but I couldn’t get the words out.

These little bets that my mother and I would make were so much fun - like our own secret game.

It was always how she would try to lighten the mood.

Every single day felt the same. I would wake up in the same hospital room, and I would sleep in the same hospital room. In the midst of instability, I counted on these bets with my mother to get me at least a little excited about the future.

That’s why… I didn’t want to bet against my mother.

“I think it would be more fun to bet on what’s for dinner tonight.”

“Is that so?”

We bet that the hospital would have Jell-O. On the way to the cafeteria, my mother unexpectedly put her head to mine and whispered to me.

“Until your surgery at 20 years old… no, even after that… we can’t be afraid of death, Kafka. Death is simply a cessation of the physical being. The mind is much more complex than that.”

“Isn’t being so close to death and so terrified of it exhausting?”

“Having justifiable fears can add purpose to your life.”

My mother looked directly into my eyes and murmured, as if she was revealing the secret to life.

“If you live your life to the fullest, you’ll eventually be privy to the secrets of the world.”

“The secrets of the world…?”

When I repeated her, my mother let out a painful, wistful laugh.

“Whether knowing them is a blessing or a curse… That’s up to you to decide.”

My mother was trying to tell me something, but I didn’t understand.

The secrets of the world, huh. Are they that important? More important than unsolved mathematical formulas, undiscovered ideas, and the story of everything beyond our universe?

My mother, who has lived her whole life afraid of death… does she already know all the secrets of this world?

“Think it over, maybe while you’re fishing.”

My mother let go of my body and stood up quickly. I was caught up on her bringing up fishing so suddenly, but my mother just laughed and stroked my arm.

“There’s a fishing spot by the hospital, just through the courtyard. If you want to learn, your father can teach you.”

“Ehhh… I’m happy just playing on the computer.” I grumble.

“Let’s make a bet, then.” My mother says.

“Fishing is surprisingly heavy on the brain. You have to think about the tides, the wind, the temperature, the season, the bait. I bet you can’t catch more fish than your father. You wouldn’t think about that kind of stuff.”

When my mother wanted me to act upon something, she would always say ‘Alright, then I guess Kafka has thrown in the towel and I won the bet!’

“Alright! I’ll learn from my father, and I’ll make you proud!”

My mother just laughed out loud at my defiance.

The sunlight reflected off of her in the courtyard, making her hair and eyes sparkle.

Back then, she looked like the surface of the ocean on a sunny day, reflecting the light onto the pier.

...

#18trip #oguro kafka

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winterreigned · 4 months

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@prodigum me throwing another starter at u despite all my drafts

𝖎𝖙'𝖘 𝖕𝖔𝖘𝖘𝖎𝖇𝖑𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖉𝖎𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖆 𝖇𝖗𝖔𝖐𝖊𝖓 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖙. at least it feels that way in this very moment. one second, she is having the time of her life with her sorority sisters, the next ; graphic flashbacks of her father's accident. grief doesn't discriminate, nor does it care what you're doing and where. it's like the tide, coming in and out, and when that tide is high, you are sure to be drowning underneath its current. the drink in her solo cup was her attempt at oxygen, though despite how much she tried to resuscitate herself with cheap beer and jungle juice, all sansa achieved was frantic hysterics on top of drowning depression.

she didn't wish to return to school this semester. she swore to her mother she'd go to school at home online, she'd help her with the younger boys. though, as any mother would insist, catelyn stark knew sansa's ambitions in academia were far too deep to put on the back burner. so, here she was. some days sansa is far too distracted with lectures, exams, and charity galas to process it all. though days like today, grief sneaks in when she dares enjoy life.

there is a benefit, however, in all this mess. winterfell state is not just her school - but her older brother's as well. taking shaky breaths, sansa abandons the dorm party, hiking halfway across campus to find robb's room. there is no one else on this campus who knows what she's going through better than him - and these past few months they've been able to provide each other solace, while maintaining a life of somewhat normality. the air is ice, which shoots her with the sobering thoughts that crop tops and short skirts may work for a dorm party, but not in winterfell in the dead of winter. sansa is shaking, though this is more from the distressed sobs leaving her than the cold.

arriving at his door, she raises a delicate and frozen fist to knock thrice. the young girl is forcing deep breaths to calm hysterics and to avoid looking like a drunken mess. prior to her father's death, the only other time robb had seen her like this was after joffrey... she'd hate for his mind to go there, when this was not the case at all. sansa turns her back to the door, desperately trying to collect herself between hiccups and sobs. when she hears the door open, she whirls around, red curls twirling. swallowing, she sees theon - her brother's roommate, best friend, shadow, childhood nuisance... she need not go on.

typically, she'd throw him a snarky comment, sarcasm the fuel between the pair. but right now her feet are on tip toes to see past him, blue eyes scanning the room for any sign of her brother. there is none, which causes teeth to worry on her bottom lip. another desperate sob erupts from her, leaving sansa to do something she'd never consider if fully sober or sane: bury her head in theon's chest and wrap her arms around him. she has no choice but to blubber into him.

❝ i - i'm so sorry, ❞ sansa whispers hoarsely to him. the muscles in her chest tighten, her teeth and jaw clench as she tries to anchor herself. ❝ i didn't know where else to go... i - i don't want to feel like this anymore. ❞

#08. modern | taking the political world by storm.#prodigum : theon #prodigum #oops??? my hand slipped?????????#you can ignore this i jsut had to get it out my system #tw grieving

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brf-rumortrackinganon · 7 months

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“t, they just leeched onto the same host to resuscitate their dying careers.” Sometimes I wonder what a sober, emotionally healthy Harry would look like now? Pre-Meghan, he seemed reasonably happy. He may still have had his issues with resentment, not enjoying all aspects of royal work, but when he went to engagements he did seem to enjoy it. He also had his friends. Maybe he’s a better actor than his wife? Outwardly, he just didn’t seem so self-obsessed and angry before 2016. Meghan and Omid are what they are, leeches or suckerfish. They always need a host to survive off of. I just don’t know if Harry has realized he’s the host. I’m not a Harry defender by any means. He was warned repeatedly about her by almost everyone in his life but he ignored it. However, he is the one in that relationship to have given up/lost everything he’s known in his life.

Harry was never much better an actor than Meghan. It was always clear what he was thinking/feeling on his face, even in his "healthy" days. The only differences were a) he had a longer fuse than Meghan ever did and b) he was the most popular person, or the second-most popular, in the BRF so he rode an enormous wave of popularity and goodwill. He was consistently in the 60s and 70s percentile in the YouGov rankings (mostly in the 60s, but every once in awhile it peaked up into the 70s).

I suspect is that Meghan thought Harry's popularity would rub off on her - possibly the way she thought William's popularity helped boost Kate's number. It worked for a little bit but then Meghan's own actions cancelled out whatever "help" her polling got from Harry so she got angry that he wasn't helping, causing him to get angry that his family wasn't helping. It snowballed from there.

An equally-important question to ask is with everyone around Harry and all the protections he had, how could Meghan have sunk her claws into Harry so deeply, so quickly. That answer reveals Harry may not have been as mentally or emotionally healthy as we think: he heard the ticking of his biological clock. All of his friends and family settling down with their own families at home, so there was no one left to hang out with him. (William used to get flack for preferring to stay in with Kate and the kids, which probably meant Harry was behind those attacks.) And on top of losing his friends, Harry was also losing his favor with the media, as more and more the press focused on George and Charlotte instead. The daughters and granddaughters of the aristocracy weren't dating him, suggesting something was definitely off, or not there. He was desperate to get married because everyone else around him was.

(To that I totally understand. I'm mid-thirties myself, everyone else in my family is settled down, and it does suck to go to family events without a partner and to celebrate milestones for friends that aren't happening for you. There's a singles tax everywhere, and I can't imagine it's any easier for someone like Harry, whose family is in a line of work that requires marriage and children for prosperity. So I can see the desperation of 'when will it happen for me' causing enormous pressure that he was unprepared to handle.)

And we know he heard the clock of time ticking loudly because he asked every girl he dated to marry him, and they all turned him down. So as much as we think Meghan rushed Harry down the aisle, Harry was also rushing her down the aisle too. So he wasn't in the best of places mentally or emotionally in 2016 and it just deteriorated from there.

A truly sober, truly emotionally healthy Harry probably would've put the brakes on how quickly Meghan moved the relationship, and there's a very real chance Meghan would have left if he did slow down the relationship (she threatened him throughout the whole relationship that she was prepared to walk out any second) so we wouldn't even be here today. If she didn't leave when he slowed the relationship down, I think the what-if is we still wouldn't be here today because there probably wouldn't have been a Megxit since the alternate timeline would push everything back - meaning they'd be stuck in the UK during lockdowns with a lockdown baby, which changes everything.

So for a truly sober, truly emotionally healthy Harry to have seen the likes of Meghan and Scobie coming from miles away - as the rest of the BRF seems to have done - the clock would probably have to turn back much, much further than 2016. I think we're looking at 2010/2011 kind of time - Harry needed to start therapy much sooner, the palace shouldn't have created the William-Kate-Harry monster, and Harry needed either to stay in the military longer (or have a civilian job like William) or be given more royal duties/work to the scale of the Kents and Gloucesters because it's apparent that the 'not working' lifestyle is what sent Harry into the tailspin leading to Meghan/today.

#ask #brf #sussexes #alternate timeline

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friends-to-lovers-tournament · 1 year

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Friends to Lovers Tournament: Round 2, Side A, Match 3

propaganda under the cut!

Polyneed:

Okay so they were childhood friends who wanted to form a band together, but slowly drifted apart after Saki fell ill and was admitted. They formed their band again after Saki joined the school. Originally, Shiho was the only one who wanted to go professional out of all of them and was offered to play with another band who was going pro, but she hesitated because she wanted to continue playing with her friends. HER DREAM WAS RIGHT IN HER GRASP BUT SHE STILL REFUSED. The rest of Leo/Need also decided to go pro with her even though they had no previous experience, just because they wanted to be with their friends. They're constantly encouraging each other and take really good care of each other. They mean sm to me fr 💙💙 Also, some gay ass lyrics from their songs:

Please don't think you don't matter, love won't end this easily- NeedLe

Even if I smile so that I don’t cry Even if I walk so that I don’t fall The words we hide will never be conveyed There’s only one future that we can envision, So let’s see it with our own eyes- 1 For your sake, I shall sing my weaknesses For your sake, I shall realize my hopes For your sake, I'm laughing today May these feelings of ours will resonate with someone's- Order Made Overflowing in my voice, in my thoughts The yearning that I entrusted to you- Voices It's painful and lonely to sing, but If it's with you, then I want to sing for the world- the WALL

They sing an awful lot abt feelings if you know what i mean

Darlapple:

They’re casual friends, Apple is maybe but not really with darling’s brother and they’re both meant to be damsels, but oh what’s this! Darlings a rebel and she’s actually sneaking off to wonderland to be the next white knight! Oh what’s this? DARLINGS mouth to mouth resuscitation is what saves Apple from her curse right after her brothers kiss fails to wake her? The curse that can only be broken by true loves kiss? And the cpr magically glowed? Hmmmmmmmmmmm!

#friends to lovers tournament #project sekai #ever after high #polyneed #darlapple #ichika hoshino #saki tenma #honami mochizuki #shiho hinomori #darling charming #apple white #polls #tournament polls

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lottiecrabie · 11 months

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As a recent lottiecrabie enthusiast and longtime feral consumer of a certain M Healy related writings, I saw something about a tutor!au. Here are my dreadful, frankly illegal thoughts. Do whatever you will with them, Lady Lottie. Your works kill me in the sweetest, sexiest way and resuscitate me harshly back to life.

1. You're a maths student , year two in the university. He's the newly joined English TA that's been developing a bit of a reputation for his longwinded rants in class and his unconventional assignments.

2. Like what the fuck is "Write about being an influencer in a dystopian world where you have to sell a graffiti eraser for VR devices after artists are actively vandalising the metaverse"

3. Anyway, hallway whispers about how attractive he is find their way to you but you're wholly unconvinced because pfft, really now, this is a cliche. One drunken evening at the local bar and you're jostling shoulders, he's ordering a long island iced tea just because and eyeing your whiskey on the rocks. He's really as pretentious as you thought he was - a dark mop of curly hair, crisp linen shirt and this dense, buttery jacket scented with menthol, marijuana and bergamot. He has a delicious rasp, holding court with his little circle of friends about how fullstops have come to mean something completely different when people text each other in the present day. There's not much you think of it - except one night after you break things off for good with your boyfriend who asks if you've come five minutes. into sex.

4. That night, you find yourself wondering if his neatly filed nails would leave red crescent commas on your skin, if your moans would be the em dashes between his consecutive thrusts. You imagine him seeing you at work, chalkboards filled with a haze of numbers and letters, you're arguing about why pure math PhDs and English PhDs are really two sides of the same coin, languages to explore the textures of the world.

5. You realise you're irrevocably fucked.

The annual debate between your college and the rival one is announced and you want to take part, as you always do, except this time it's a whole series of complex themes that require you to be assisted by someone else. Guess who you're assigned as your mentor.

6. You can't think straight, but you want to impress him so much. He's pretty much unfazed - logically unfolding his stances like an origami blossom. His mind entices and frustrates you : how can you possibly read Shakespeare today and a bunch of e-girl tweets the next and use both of these in your speeches?! Good lord. The longer you resist the urges, the worse they become. He dances in circles around you. Sleepless nights. Scattered sheets and unfinished drafts. Smoke breaks across the campus. Joints rolled with thin paper you bum from the art department, you sit blowing plumes at each other one orange afternoon. He reveals himself in delicate slices - a flash of a tattoo on his taut abdomen, soft voiced calls to his mother, Heroin by Velvet Underground playing from his tinny earphones.

7. He's dissatisfied - there's some verve and rawness that's missing from your stage presence. you're not emoting enough. He jokingly wonders what the cause might be - the lack of sleep, or the lack of sleeping together? Wait, you haven't had sex in months? There it is.

8. He says that sex sells. In order to convince the audience, you need to have seduce them with your mind.

Prove it, you say.

9. He finds May I Feel by e.e cummings and decides to walk around you as you take turns to recite it. By the fifth line, you've had enough. His knees are behind to yours, his skin branding into your stockings. He places his fucking mouth close, so close to your ear - warm enough to entice you with the possibility of a kiss, but instead he takes it away just as swiftly.

10. "let's go said he

not too far said she

what's too far said he

where you are said she" (side note - I recommend listening to the Tom Hiddleston version of the poem!)

You laugh, because it's so bitterly on the nose. He wonders aloud if he's really too far - too far away from you, that is.

His first kiss is like a wine tasting. He sips and nibbles your lips, sweetly parting it with his inquiring tongue. His fingers snake across your body, a low laugh caught in his throat when his hands brush your guilty nipples. Dilated pupils, and filthy promises. His kisses are poisonous, intoxicating.

11. Rutting mindlessly over his desk. Panting, whining in back seat of your car. Wet kisses in a darkened theatre. Hand jobs in the library, leaving the both of you a shivering mess. He is relentless, rendering you feverish for more. He refuses to have sex until he's satisfied his desire to explore you enough.

12. You try to take matters into your own hands and dress in a tiny skirt, with the smallest scrap of lace covering your soaking cunt. You end up over his lap, his handprints still warm on your back.

13. He worships you. He spits in your mouth. He ties your hands to the bedframe. He calls you sweetheart, baby, my darling. He doesn't stop edging you. He makes you read poems and eats you out, with the threat of stopping if you stutter even a little. He makes you think, he makes you dream, he makes you laugh.

14. You don't care about the debate anymore.

oh my god this was so lovely!! love when u guys leave me blurbs like this to read i feel like I’m the one getting bedtime stories for change. you have such a vivid and imagery way of writing it’s so beautiful. the prose is so delicate and effective; i can so clearly Feel and See the moment. i especially love ‘his first kiss is like a wine tasting’ and ‘you sit blowing plumes at each other one orange afternoon’. get on tumblr mama start writing there’ll be a spot opening up soon✊

although this is a lot more professor!matty than tutor!au🕺 (the tutor!au staples are weird loser virgin nerd with cool popular bitchy experienced girl) you actually kinda knocked it out of the park for professor like yeah that guy is making her read poetry while eating her out. yes ofc they’re making out on his desk. well yeah he’s debating you and only getting you more worked up for him

#THANK YOU FOR THIS but seriously pick up the google doc bae #LOVE YOU #professor!matty #tutor!au #ask

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tobiasdrake · 10 months

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We've had a hell of a day and I want to go home. And pour one out for a dear friend.

His death is a heavy weight on all of our hearts. He will be sorely missed. By us. By the Master Detectives. By every booze retailer in town. Truly, Kanai Ward is lesser without him.

That doesn't sound like good guy talk. We've succeeded in bringing an end to the internal strife plaguing Amaterasu, and helped Makoto to consolidate his power into an unapproachable citadel of control.

...let's hope for the best! d(^_^d)

EVERYBODY DIED MAKOTO.

Our boss DIED.

The scientist we were supposed to question DIED.

Vivia LIVED and he's mad about it.

I'm glad you're happy but this was a complete shitshow on my end. Even if you wind up being a well-meaning saint I still kind of hate you for manipulating us into this.

Yomi manipulated Yakou into killing Huesca. Makoto manipulated Yuma into distracting Yomi. The entire Nocturnal Agency was the ball in a game of power between these two rich dipshits today.

I'm mad about it and I want to hit something, but I'm powerless in the face of the corporate machinations that have taken place here. All I can do is go home, cry about it, and pour my grief into a big pot of my arsenic and battery acid stew. T_T It was Chief's favorite.

Maybe YOUR FACE is just a rumor.

...

That comeback hits so much differently when delivered to a man never seen without a mask. At this time, Makoto's face is, in fact, a rumor. There exists no evidence of it being real.

So what I'm hearing is "Anywhere but the Restricted Area." Not the Restricted Area, where we're at now, but the Restricted Area Restricted Area. The one nobody ever goes to, not even Peacekeepers, but there are allegedly shipments of corpses being trucked in.

Where we will most likely find the secret secret lab, instead of this classified secret lab.

Of course, even trying to go there at all is fucking reckless. I don't know how we're going to sell that to Yak--

...

T_T

Makoto, that looks like a ring box. So help me, if the next words out of your mouth are "You can give this to Kurumi when you propose" then I'm going straight to prison in the cell next to Yomi.

Yomi: The hell are you in for? Yuma: Punched Makoto square in the dick.

I hope it's a bomb.

I mean. I do not. Hope it's a bomb. For obvious reasons. Because I do not want to open a bomb present.

But if it is a bomb, then at least we'll be able to brush away the ambiguity and know exactly where to stand on the Makoto subject. I would rather know that he's the enemy than continue to have to wonder.

Halara, Yakou's been stone dead for at least ten minutes. You can stop with the chest compressions. There isn't a medical technician in this world that can bring him back from what I-- uh, the deadly assassin Fink did to him.

In seriousness, I talk a lot about how much of a poser Halara is. That they are not an emotionless stoic mercenary but try very hard to give off the image of an emotionless stoic mercenary. The traumatized desperation visible in Halara's unceasing attempts to resuscitate a body that has to be cold by now speaks volumes to the character buried beneath their façade.

We'll go home and pour one out for him.

...does anyone else drink alcohol in this group? We may wind up pouring a lot out for him.

It's okay. We got to say our goodbyes. Don't ask what that means.

BESTIE NO. There's a very important moment of frozen time in recent events! If you make me have to do the Mystery Labyrinth and kill Yakou all over again, then so help me I will give you passive-aggressive silence for at least three days.

...

Come to think of it, Fubuki would be a perfect lifehack answer to the whole "Mystery Labyrinth reaps the soul of the victim" conundrum. We use the Labyrinth, find the deeply held secrets, and then grab her hand and skip back a few seconds over that frozen moment. Bob's your uncle, we know everything and no one had to die for it.

Fubuki can fix the central moral conundrum baked into the premise.

No, he's been through a lot. We spent hours undergoing an important emotional and philosophical journey five minutes ago. He's exhausted. I can't blame him.

This is, once again, the recurring theme. The Mystery Labyrinth reveals tons of information but doesn't help. Whoop-de-dee, we learned about Yomi's corruption in the most secret hidden truth the Labyrinth held. Didn't matter. Makoto already got that information another way and confronted Yomi without our involvement.

The effect is mitigated only because Yakou was already dying. But otherwise it'd be another reaping of a soul for no goddamn reason whatsoever. In chapters 1 and 2, we reaped souls that didn't deserve it. In 3 and 4, the killings we committed contributed nothing of value whatsoever to the predicaments we were in.

Going into the Mystery Labyrinth never does anything good. How could it? It's a murder weapon. That's all it can be. I've been saying non-stop about the Peacekeepers that they are an institution of violence that exists for the sole purpose of violence and cannot be anything but violence. The same is true of the Mystery Labyrinth.

It only exists to kill.

Oh good, Kurumi's here to offer half-informed advice about how it's super-virtuous that Yuma's killing people like this.

Okay Kurumi, I'm not gonna be too hostile 'cause I like you now. Let's hear what you've got.

Oh, no, that has nothing to do with us. Don't even try to blame yourself for that.

In fact, it's the biggest irony of the case. After all that fuss we made, running out the door and trusting that his lanky bones won't keep up with us, it barely even mattered. Yakou's plan for tonight's entertainment was to round everyone up and take them to the same place I snuck out to visit anyway.

In fact, if we hadn't roped Makoto into our shenanigans, everything would have played out the way Yomi planned it, and it would have ended with all of us being shot Halara putting a few more dead cops on my tab.

If you think about it that way, your questionable plan to go ask Makoto to his face if he's doing shady shit was the curve ball that saved the day, Kurumi. You should take a victory lap. You gambled it all on black and came away with a big score.

In a roundabout butterfly-effect chain-reaction sort of way, Kurumi Wendy took down Yomi Hellsmile. Don't fuck with high school girls, man. They're feral.

Do YOU have the answer to Photo Lady's identity!?

Kurumi, you are this close to getting Best Informant in Kanai Ward validation from me. That's not an accomplishment. You're the only informant in Kanai Ward. But still.

BOOM, Photo Lady. Figured it was something like that.

Unfortunately, Huesca was conspiring with Yomi, the head of the Peacekeepers. So. Obviously. The Peacekeepers weren't going to arrest Huesca over it, were they?

No, when you're in a pincer trap like that, there's only one outcome. She fell off a balcony onto some bullets. Accidental death.

Yakou is no different from the Theater Girls in chapter 2. Someone close to him was murdered in a city where justice is a farce. Abusers thrive and victims get fucked. Even murder's just part of the game that unchecked capitalism is playing on its people. What other recourse did he possibly have?

When murder gets rewarded and cries for justice are brutally punished, the only option left to you is to become a murderer.

It explains a lot about his behavior since we got here. Ever since the WDO burdened him with this huge investigation, Yakou's position has effectively been, "Guys, I'm begging you, PLEASE don't get me killed before I do."

I'm not onboard with the overarching message of "Conviction is more important than being right or wrong," which keeps getting brought up. I think a lot of people have done terrible things with absolute conviction in what they were doing. It's good to doubt yourself and question if you're making the right choices.

But as a character beat, I respect this for Yakou. I honestly think, like the Theater Girls, Yakou did nothing wrong. But I can believe that Yakou believed that what he was doing was immoral. That on some level, a part of him was like, "Dude, we're really going to go full murder-suicide?"

But he chose to follow his feelings and do what his gut wanted him to do, even if it's "bad". He was true to himself, to the very end. That's why he was able to face Shinigami's oblivion with a smile on his face.

In a roundabout way, I think Yakou came close to my own philosophy of morality. He just phrased it differently.

#master detective archives: rain code #drake plays rain code

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strawberryshortcake1495 · 1 month

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Introducing my Kokoro AU! ❤️

So basically in this AU the ritual to purge the demon out of Baby Riliane fails and King Arth and Queen Anne just decide to leave her to be “handled by nature”. Now before you say they’re pretty malicious for leaving their child to die, they felt like they had no choice and pretty much everyone was upset by this decision, especially Alexiel. Since Arth and Anne didn’t give the servants specific directions of how to kill Riliane, they just threw her into a river. Riliane floats for 4 days until being found by Clarith’s mother. The woman resuscitates the little girl and adopts her as her youngest daughter. Riliane is named Kokoro in this AU because Clarith and her mother hold the girl very close to their hearts. Kokoro grows up alongside Clarith, developing a rebellious almost gremlin-like behavior in stark contrast to Clarith’s timid gentleness. Kokoro is always looking out for Clarith and will (and has) bite whoever dares to harm her. Clarith returns the favor by making sure Kokoro stays out of trouble with the chief and working hard on the fields to afford food for her family while juggling rent and the abuse from the other Elphes. But what about Allen (or Alexiel in this AU)? Well, he’s the sole successor of King Arth since his twin sister is supposedly “dead” and both his parents die early. Alexiel DOES NOT know how to rule Lucifenia and he‘s terrified of the kingly duties. This results in him becoming depressed and anxious at a young age but he forces himself to act normal in front of everyone else, but if this keeps going, he’s going to crack.

Clarith saves Michaela (as a Robin) and names her Grüne. Today is Kokoro’s 14th birthday but Clarith has to go work on the fields and their mother isn’t feeling too hot, leaving Kokoro to celebrate her birthday all by herself. She goes out to buy an apple, a candle, and a lighter and she wears Clarith’s red shawl on her. While out there, she’s attacked by a boy on a horse. Yup, you guessed it, it’s Alexiel! He escaped the castle because he doesn’t want to celebrate his birthday. To him, a birthday is only a reminder that he’s getting closer to death. Kokoro feels sorry for him and asks him where he’s going. Alexiel takes her to the beach with him. They watch the sunset together and decide to become friends. After the sun has set, they both part ways and Kokoro celebrates her birthday at home in her old dusty room. She sits in the corner cradling the apple with a candle in it happy to be alive knowing there are people out there who don’t have so fortunate lives. The next day, Clarith brings home Michaela and Kokoro is extremely protective of her sister. As Michaela wakes up, the first thing Kokoro does is threaten her if she dares to humiliate Clarith. Clarith apologizes for her sister’s behavior, but Michaela reassures her it’s okay. When Clarith is attacked by Chelsea, Kokoro is furious but she was happy that Michaela was there to help her out, which helps grow the bond between them. When they go home and find Clarith and Kokoro’s mother dead, the two girls deeply grieve their loss. Clarith is tasked with the duty of raising Kokoro on her own now and Kokoro is afraid that she might be a burden to her sister. Michaela dedicates herself to easing the tension and helping her new human friends.

#evillious chronicles #clarith netsuma #riliane lucifen d'autriche #alexiel lucifen d'autriche #michaela evillous

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i-cant-stop-fandoming-help · 1 day

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Alright, after some thought, how about some Tsurei angst? They’re my precious rarepair and honestly need more content. ;-;

i remembered i have an old tsurei wip that i'm probably never going to finish and that i've proooobably posted somewhere on here before but here. you didn't win the request wheel spinning but figured there's no harm in posting this one WIP. they're a divorced couple btw. not specifically in this fic but thats just how i see 'em

Rei snorted as Tsurugi spoke, unable to process his words in her drunken state. Teruya was glancing between the two, downing a shot of vodka before patting Rei's back.

He said something to Tsurugi- it sounded like "I think we should pay and leave. Rei's had so much to drink that I think she'll probably have a major hangover."

The ginger knew it was too smart of a thing for an incompetent like himself to say, she was probably just imagining. Nonetheless, she grabbed onto his jacket, her words slurring and her vision swimming. "I am not fucking drunk, innnn…competent."

Tsurugi grunted, putting his card in the checkbook and lifting Rei up. "Yes, you are."

She could only squirm, too tired to do much else. "Not drunk..! Put me dooowwwnnn!"

Tsurugi grunted as he put her in the back seat of his car, allowing Teruya to take the front seat and beginning to drive to her house.

Her daze made her dizzy, her own house wasn't familiar, even with the teddy bear wreath and the fluffy welcome mat.

Tsurugi only then put her down, making sure she unlocked her door and went inside.

His smile was warm, his eyes looked affectionate. "Goodnight, mekaru." He whispered, just barely audible.

He mumbled something more, and Rei couldn't quite figure what it was. She just slurred out a goodnight, and closed her door. The moment she did, her vision went completely dark.

Rei startled awake at the feeling of falling- she was in her bed. She was comfortable and warm and surrounded by brown, fluffy, bears.

It was a memory. Was her dream a memory? How odd. It was… happy. She was happy.

She thought it could last for forever, or at least until she was thirty. Instead, it was taken away in a matter of about a year.

Teruya was dead. His corpse stared at her with empty eyes as she did her best to resuscitate him, joy and sorrow mixed in his eyes as his ribs cracked and his skin slowly, slowly, lost its color.

She felt helpless, hopeless, useless. And most of all, possibly worst of all, was how alone she felt. She lost her another classmate, yet another friend.

Tsurugi stares at her with pitiful eyes, it felt belittling. "It's too late, Mekaru. Otori is dead. Just… give up."

Give up? After everything? She couldn't just give up on a friend, not so quickly. Otori was one of the only surviving members of class 79, alongside Rei and Tsurugi. How could he be so willing to let him die?

Rage consumed her, hate consumed her. Tsurugi was scum, she didn't know why she ever had affection for him.

She grabbed him by his shirt, shaking and sobbing and barely able to breathe. "You!," she snarled, barely able to see his ruby eyes through her blur of tears. "What is wrong with you?!"

Tsurugi remained calm, putting a hand on her back and pulling her into a hug. "I am sorry, Mekaru. It had to happen."

She choked on a sob, hitting his chest weakly before crumpling. "Why, why… why did he have to die?"

He sighed, his legs beginning to shake before he fell backwards into his wheelchair. "We needed to make sure Sannoji's plan would fail."

Her breath was caught in her throat, her hands were clawing at Tsurugi’s shirt. He only whispered that it was okay, that it needed to happen. That he’d rather bury Teruya than bury Rei.

His words were gentle, his eyes were affectionate. Any other moment, she knew she would’ve melted into his care. Not now, not today. He was so willing to let someone die, it was disgusting.

Rei shivered at remembering his care, his… love? No, she didn’t think it was love. She thought it to be spiteful pity.

Even thinking about her affection towards Tsurugi made her gag, made her reach towards her bedside table to grab something, anything. But her usual wine bottle wasn’t there- she had emptied it the night before in one of her many emotional moments.

She didn’t want to get up, she wanted to stay in bed and wallow in self pity, she wanted to curl into a ball and whimper and whine. Rei was pathetic, she recognized that much, but was it not justified? She had fallen in love with a man who killed the first friend she made in a long time, and even worse- that man was her boss, and he had so much care for her.

She felt cared for, but hated at the same time. Loved but despised, cherished but loathed, adored but detested. She had fallen for what she perceived to be the devil, and it seemed he worshipped her in the exact same way she did him. Whenever he could, whenever she was sober and unable to comprehend her overwhelming emotions, Tsurugi held her close and put a hand on her face and called her gorgeous, kissed her ginger locks, loved her.

Her head was sore, her throat burned, and her back ached. The alcohol was a faint and sour remnant on the top of her tongue. She let her blankets slip from her legs as she stepped out of bed, her toes touching the floor with a gentleness she forgot she had ever had.

Her phone buzzed, loud against the wooden desk as it silently yelled for her to answer it. It was for work, she needed to come in on her day off. Like usual. She was just the worker, the person who was only good for their knowledge. Everyone thought that of her. She was nothing but a library of smarts, a keeper of wisdom.

Her fingers trembled as they grazed upon it, and Rei didn’t even know if she had the strength to answer it. As soon as the cold met her ear and cheek, it took all her willpower not to just drop it again. The voice of urgency, the voice of terror and devastation, that all rang from the other end.

She wasn’t even dressed properly, she hadn’t even put on her glasses properly, but she sprinted out the door with all her might. She didn’t even scream as she tripped, she didn’t feel nauseous anymore, her headache and her fatigue felt diminished.

Rei was alert. She could feel her heart beating, ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump. Her eyes were twitching back and forth, and she could hear the gunshots in the distance. That fool, that absolute buffoon, what did he think he was doing?

Bing, bang, boom, the shots were louder the more she drove. He was going to get himself killed, had any thoughts even gone through his head?

Rei couldn’t handle any more death, he should’ve known, he should’ve seen. She looked in the mirror and she didn’t even see herself, alcohol had destroyed her and she couldn’t let go. But he looked at her, and he just looked affectionate. Like he still saw Rei, and not some stumbling and stammering incompetent.

She saw the blood, she saw blue hair, she saw as bodies on the other side fell. She got out of her car as quick as she could, running to the sight and not caring if a bullet went through her skull– she needed to get him out.

Rei’s feet slammed into the ground as she ran, but he wasn’t there. That blue hair she saw, she should’ve realized, was too light to be his. It was Iranami’s, so where was Tsurugi? Keisuke just stared at her, his soldiers having knocked every single despair down and out. An iranami by blood, but he was nothing like before, nothing like Satsuki– Keisuke was just like Tsurugi. Cold, uncaring, and a murderer.

The ginger didn’t even say anything, just spun on her heel and ran to her car. Foolish, foolish, foolish. Of course he wouldn’t be with other people.

“I’m sorry.” she thought she was imagining his voice, up until she saw his reflection in the rearview mirror. His eyes were dark.

A stinging pain went through her head, causing her vision to fade. And the next thing she knew, she was at home, tucked into her bed with a cup of cold tea by her side. Perhaps she had dreamt everything up, but she hadn’t had tea the night before. How had it gotten there?

Her head was bandaged up, and she felt at the side. The red that danced and spread along her fingertips made her freeze, she hated seeing her own blood, her own weakness. If only she wasn’t human, she wouldn’t have such a disgusting fluid keeping her alive.

#dra/sdra2 #danganronpa another #sdra2 #dra #rei mekaru #tsurugi kinjo #tsurei

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kikithedreamerwriter · 1 year

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OC!Sayuri x Bayverse!Leonardo

⚠️: Mentions of kidnapping, drowning, resuscitation, and hospitalization.

Let me know if you want to be a part of my taglist!

🗣️: @sharpwindow @pheradream-15 @m1dnyt3-w0lf

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Enchanted to Meet You: Part 3

Leo leapt from roof to roof, his eyes directed towards the back of the dark-colored van that had stowed away Sayuri as it zoomed farther and farther away. He was moving alright, and in haste. He blindly searched for his phone.

“Donnie!” Leo gasped as soon as the ringing quickly subsided.

“Leo! Where the hell are you? We’ve been-”

“I’m in pursuit! There’s a kidnapping in progress!” Leo replied.

“What? Leo-“

“Call Casey! I’m leaving the Upper East Side and entering Midtown! Vehicle is a Mercedes Sprinter with New York plates heading south! Victim is a 5”3, early-twenties, Asian woman named Sayuri Mizuno kidnapped by three John Does! Gather the team and meet me STAT!”

“We’re enroute!” Donnie exclaimed.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀

Some blocks away, Casey Jones has yet to find his pants in April’s apartment. April peered at him curiously as he scoured her carpeted bedroom floor, shouting into the phone. When he finally retrieved the pair of them under her bed, Casey put down the phone.

“What’s wrong?” April asked him as she put on her shirt.

“That was Donnie. Leo’s in pursuit of a kidnapping in the Upper East Side,” Casey breathed as he quickly donned his jacket. “I think it’s the menace behind the recent kidnappings. Same M.O. and same victim profile. I’m calling Vincent. We’re finally gonna get these bastards.”

“Has the victim been identified?” April replied, just as Casey was ringing the chief.

“Yeah, female Asian in her early twenties. Um…” he thought. “Her name… It’s Japanese. Like Yuri Mizu something-“

“Sayuri Mizuno,” April finished for him. Casey stared at her.

“Hold on-“

“I’m coming and you’re not gonna stop me,” She said to him as she grabbed her own jacket. “I’ll tell you everything on the way.”

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀

“Leo!” Mikey hollered as he saw his blue-clad older brother moving at the building across from them. Leo lifted his hand in acknowledgement, and his brothers headed towards him. Mikey was the first to land, approaching with his skateboard.

“What’s up bro?” Mikey grinned as Leo rolled his eyes.

“You let him bring that thing?” He told Donnie behind him.

“I didn’t have time to!” Donnie frowned.

“Mikey’s slower when he runs on foot,” Raph grunted. “Isn’t he betta off with that thing, since speed happens to be one of the the traits of a ninja, Oh Great One?”

Mikey chuckled.

“You seem to be chipper today Raph,” Leo remarked. “Ivanna call you back, yet?”

Donnie snorted. Recently, the brothers discovered that Raph has a “girl-friend” (or so he just claims to be), thanks to Donnie. Apparently, they met online when Donnie introduced Raph to online gaming, which Raph ended up disliking. Lately, the red brute has been in a sour mood and coincidentally, Ivanna had stopped calling.

“Who’s this chick to ya, anyway?” Raph growled.

“I just met her!” Leo barked back. Which is partially the truth, he thought.

“Children, children!” Donnie intervened. “There’s a kidnapping in progress! I got the van plates! I’m sending a drone to know where they’re going.” A drone dispatched itself from backside of Donnie’s shell and proceeded to trail the van.

“Oh no,” Donnie sighed as continued to scroll through his monitor.

“What is it?” Leo asked.

“They’ve identified our John Does. Apparently, they work for an underground organization that’s been responsible for 20% of kidnappings in the last five years!”

“Serial killers?” Raph popped a toothpick in his mouth.

“No…” Donnie breathed. “Human traffickers and brothel owners.”

Sayuri’s disgusted expression as the perpetrator grazed her cheek, flashed suddenly in Leo eyes. He quickened his pace.

“We can’t let this one get away,” Leo growled. “If the police can’t stop them, then we have to.”

They were crossing Brooklyn Bridge when Donnie’s watch pinged.

“My drone got something!” He exclaimed. “Leo, there’s a helicopter waiting for them at an abandoned building by the the East River!”

“Inform Casey, it’ll be quicker for us to swim it. Donnie! Lead the way!”

Mikey turned to Leo and gazed at him with great bewilderment. Why was his older brother… cool and calm… so agitated over this case? And when the hell did Donnie ever get to lead? He wanted to lead, Mikey thought as he pouted. He then turned to Raph running beside him. He really did bear the brunt of his brother’s recent, foul change in demeanor. But a small realization dawned upon Mikey.

Could this all possibly be just because of a girl?

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀

It was eerily silent and dark in the inside of the van. In her mind, Sayuri had deduced that these were not common thieves when she realized the extent of their measures. Even after placing a blindfold over her eyes, they had also taken the effort of placing a wad of duct tape over it. When Sayuri thought of undoing the knots on her wrists and ankles, her perpetrators used some heat technology against the synthetic fibers to solidify it bonds, thus making it harder to penetrate. In addition, they had also sealed her lips shut with a special glue and placed sound-proof headphones to conceal her ears. They had also chained her in place, to ensure that she wouldn’t move around the van. All her senses were made useless.

Is this was being dead feels like? She wonders.

Then suddenly, the vibrations beneath her had stilled. The van had stopped. She felt firm hands raise her to her feet and urged her to walk.

There was only wind and movement.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀

“Is that her?” Raph pointed towards the very top of the building. Leo squinted painfully towards Raph’s direction. The residue of the smoke bomb attack still impaired his vision, but it was without a doubt Sayuri who was being led by three men of similar build and height to the previous John Does.

“Then we better hurry up,” Leo replied as he began scaling the building stealthily. In the darkness, the four brothers crept quietly towards Sayuri… until a ringtone resounded.

“Mikey!” Raph scolded.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorr-“

“What the hell are those things?”

Unfortunately, one of the men took notice and began shooting at them.

“Dammnit Mikey!” Leo hissed as a bullet grazed his bicep.

“Get the asset in the chopper!” The leader of the kidnappers demanded to another while the remaining continued to shoot at the turtles.

“I’ll go around and get Sayuri! Cover me!” Leo said to his brothers as Raph proceeded to overtake his brother and lead the charge towards gunfire.

As his brothers surged forward, Leo quickly approached the helipad. When Leo arrived, Sayuri had already been loaded into the helicopter with the third man clad in the black. He saw Sayuri inside, so tightly bounded that he could barely recognize her. Nearly at his wit’s end, Leo ran towards the ascending helicopter.

“Leo!”

He could hear his brothers calling out to him as he leapt from the very edge of the building. It was as if time slowed down, and for a second, Leo couldn’t believe that his fingers could grab ahold of the landing skids.

But he had to.

For her.

Before Leo could even breathe, two more gunshots grazed his arms. The third man had appeared from the within the carrier, with a shotgun pointed at his head. Leo expertly used use weight to shake the balance of the helicopter, turning it sideways. It caused the perpetrator to fall on his backside and slide from the compartment and down into the East River.

Leo lifted himself up from the skids to get a glance at Sayuri, when the helicopter suddenly moved erratically. The pilot had become aware that their mission had been compromised, and he was shaking off the offending agent in attempt to salvage it. As the helicopter turned sideways once more, Leo heard a muffled scream from the carrier and when he mustered the strength to carry himself over the skid, all he saw were a pair of headphones on the seat that Sayuri once occupied. He hurriedly looked down… and there she was… falling through the air from a hundred feet. Leo let go of the skid and let himself fall faster towards her. All he could hear the whistling wind and the loud beating of his heart in ears.

“Got ya!” He exclaimed, cocooning his body around hers and unwrapping the tape and cloth from her eyes. Their gazes collided as they continued falling into the earth. Sayuri couldn’t speak, for the bind that shut her lips would not allow her, so she cried, expressing which what the tongue cannot even begin to say. Cast in darkness and then now descending dangerously from the sky? What a terrifying unfortunate turn of events. Tears slipped from her eyes and floated into the open air. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t… Leo placed a hand on her cheek, directing her eyes towards his. There was no fear in his stare. Only… happiness. Profound and genuine happiness.

“I found you,” he whispered as if in disbelief. Leo then turned his shell towards the river, and tucked her tightly into his embrace as they hit the water.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃

It was Donnie who had spotted them as they fell from the sky. He immediately got the word out to Casey, who deployed the paramedics, police, and lifeguards. It was Raph who had quickly raced the boats to retrieve Leo before any human eyes saw him. It was he that saw the lifeguards pull the abducted woman out of the water first, before taking Leo with him.

It was Mikey that watched carefully from the shadows as they resuscitated her. He held in his breath, until she managed one on her own. It was he who saw her rushed to a hospital in an ambulance… and waited until the lights were out of sight.

Donnie assessed the extent of Leo’s injuries: decreased level of consciousness, a crack on the right upper quadrant in his shell, three gunshot wounds, and an impaired vision. He shook his head at his brother. How can someone so clear-headed, suddenly lose sight of everything for one sole objective…

Her?

How can someone turn so foolish, irrational, and utterly compulsive?

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃

After Casey had helped put the three kidnappers into custody, he joined April and headed together towards Sayuri’s apartment. When they had arrived, they promptly began to clean up whatever mess they could (as per April’s insistence) and gather the stuff she would need at her stay in the hospital. Fortunately, the doorman had seen April enter with Sayuri, and was kind enough to allow her into the apartment.

As April disposed of the shards of glass into a nearby bin, she only realized then the wet streaks across her cheeks and began to wipe them dry so that Casey wouldn’t notice. Unfortunately for April, her boyfriend happened to be a very keen detective.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Casey soothed. “What’s wrong?”

April sniffled.

“If I haven’t- if I haven’t made her gone out so late… she would have never— never end up like this. I-I didn’t know that she had—!”

“She’ll be okay, baby.” Casey whispered as he held her in his embrace. “This isn’t anybody’s fault, least of all you. And look on the brighter side of things… we got in touch with her brother, we’re helping her with her things and her apartment, and the doctor said that she’ll only be in there for a few days…”

April nuzzled her cheek into his shoulder and they stayed like that for a while.

“I should probably go get her stuff,” her muffled voice resounded against Casey’s jacket. He chuckled, tucking the frayed strands of her hair away from her glistening eyes.

April then entered what she presumed to be Sayuri’s bedroom. She packed for her necessities from her clothes drawers, vanity, and bathroom as Casey continued to engage a spirited conversation with her. April knows that Casey tends to speak quite a-lot when he when feels nervous, so she let him proceed with his ramblings with one ear open as she finally approached Sayuri’s desk. Sliding her laptop from her desk, April inadvertently dropped what seemed to be a journal that had been tucked beneath it. The journal was turned to a page that was full of dried flowers. April smiled as she bent down to see the page more clearly. Sayuri’s scribbling was neat and small; and her writings was a mixture of Japanese characters and English letters. Apparently, she had picked these flowers from an isolated meadow in Central Park. April being a curious journalist, it was simply second nature to her to flip through a few pages until she came upon one that had intensely caught her interest…

“Hey babe,” Casey called. “Isn’t it a bit weird that on the same day you met Sayuri, Leo was there right in time to save her?”

“Babe?” Casey repeated, after a prolonged silence from her.

The page, tainted by many shades of lead, presented an uncanny sketch of the one and only.

“You don’t say.” She replied to him, gazing intently at the image, borne of pencil and memory.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃

Sayuri lifted her heavy eyes towards a barren, white ceiling and let the strong antiseptic scent fill her senses. Her body felt heavy, as if she had been slammed into—

Her head suddenly filled with memories, memories she wasn’t even sure that belonged to her. First there was darkness, then there was light, then there was sky, and then there was water. But in between every single one… he was there and he was real.

She slowly sat herself up, cautiously mitigating the dizziness she was bound to endure and set her feet against the cold floor. Just then, a kind familiar face had entered her room.

“April!” Sayuri sighed in relief as April closed the door behind her and placed Sayuri’s belongings by her bedside.

“Feeling okay?” April asked her. “Look, what happened was-“

“I really have to tell you something,” Sayuri breathed, trying to arrange all the words before they just spilled out into one blabbering mess or fear that she may never get the courage to say them. April nodded motioning for her to continue.

“I-I don’t know if I’m going crazy,” Sayuri laughed mirthlessly. “But a month ago, I saw this… humanoid…turtle man with a blue mask right outside my balcony and I haven’t stopped thinking about him. A-and tonight—you’re never going to believe this— but he saved me, April. I s-saw him and he was real and I—!”

“Sayuri, there’s someone I would like you to meet—“

“No! I’m definitely not crazy. Please April, you have to-“

“Sayuri,” April repeated her name as she took ahold of her exasperated hands and her faltering eyes.

“Sayuri, I believe you and I know who he is…”

Sayuri’s hands slipped from her grip and her startled state had become still. For a moment, Sayuri regarded April, discerning whether or not she was truly telling the truth. Something that she herself was not even certain of. But that same, congenital intuition in the deep recesses of who she was, verified the look in April’s eyes to be genuine and worthy of her belief.

“Would you like to meet, him?” April smiled as she stood up and offered a hand to Sayuri.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃

April knew her turtle brothers to a fault. Among all of them, Leonardo was the last she would think of if someone told her that a mutant turtle had broken into a balcony on the Upper East Side, tried to save a girl, pursued her kidnappers on foot half-blind, get shot at three times, jumped on a helicopter hovering nearly a hundred feet, and cracked a shell falling into the East River. It was a hell of a day, and after everything April has seen, this entire ordeal was just as shocking.

She continued to lead Sayuri towards the roof top, with her hand in hers. April gazed in her direction. She’s only known this girl for a day. They’re practically strangers and April is aware of this. She also happen to also love her turtle brothers, and she was the keeper of their safety and secrecy. She was their hogosha. So is it in their best interest to introduce a stranger, whom she barely even knows?

Yet… how that sketch on her journal was drawn, was not one depicted out of fear or speculation… but out of love of wonder and curiosity. And tonight when Sayuri had finally told her about the strange turtle-man in her balcony with such insistence and faith… it confirmed in April that Sayuri meeting Leo tonight was far from coincidental.

April swung the heavy door to the balcony open and kindly allowed Sayuri to enter first. It was an open, quaint, urban vegetable and flower garden surrounded by seating areas. In the very middle, there sat Leo twiddling his fingers and Casey with his arm slung against the backside of the bench. They seem to be engaged in some conversation before they caught sight of the approaching girls.

When April handed Sayuri over to Leo, she could have sworn Casey winked at the blue-clad turtle as he walked away with April. As much as she wanted to know whatever affairs Leo and Sayuri had between them, she elected to respect their privacy (contrary to Casey’s idea of ‘bugging’ Leo and putting them both under surveillance) and wait outside the roof top doors with her boyfriend.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃

Sayuri and Leo stood facing one another. Sayuri with her hand gripping her IV pole, and Leo with with his twiddling thumbs. In the lights of the night and in the stillness of the moment, they finally saw each other for what they truly were.

Leo couldn’t breathe. She was finally right in front of him after so many nights of looking upon his memories of her up on her balcony. Her hair was ruffled from bedrest and her delicate face was patched with dressings, but she appeared just beautiful as first night he had found her. Sayuri was in awe of him. His great stature of muscle and scale towering over her as held her gaze with his intensely with those magnificent sapphire orbs.

“Would you like to sit with me, Leonardo?” Sayuri asked as she took her place on the bench.

He shivered at the way she said his name.

“I-I’d like that,” Leo smiled as he sat beside her.

“I’m Sayuri,” she whispered.

“You can call me Leo,” he replied.

“Leo…” Sayuri repeated, her eyes catching the glint of his katanas, sheathed upon the backside of his shell.

“You are… a ninja?”

“Yeah…” Leo chuckled. “I’ve never had anyone get that right the first try though…”

A moment of quiet.

“Have you always had the habit of saving people from their kidnappers?” Sayuri asked him jokingly.

“No,” Leo grinned. “But I’m considering of having one, seeing that I’ve had a 100% success rate so far.”

Their laughter mingled harmoniously, and as it reached silence they ended up regarding one another with only their eyes.

“It’s you that’s been watching me, isn’t it… up on my balcony?”

“I’m sorry,”

“Don’t be,” she reassured as she placed her hand over his. Leo stiffened at the sensation of her soft palm over the scales his hand. “If it weren’t for you… I probably would have… well…”

Sayuri looked far in the city. Just then, Leo pulled a familiar silver bracelet from one his pockets and presented it to her.

“But you didn’t,” he said to her. “Life has a funny way of showing us that we’re meant to be here.” Sayuri accepted her bracelet from him, her thumb grazing the engraved letters on its heart-shaped charm.

SAYURI MIZUNO, CONGENITAL HEART DISEASE, PACEMAKER, NO MRI

“Are you… sick?” Leo asked her.

“It’s a hole in my heart,” Sayuri replied quietly. “It’s been there ever since the day I was born and it’s hasn’t been found until recently.”

“Are you okay, now?”

Sayuri closed her eyes, and suddenly she was back in Japan in her grandfather’s dojo. She could smell the afternoon sun and the sweat on her back. She could hear the rhythm of her footsteps and feel the adrenaline rushing through her veins.

“I wasn’t always this boring,” Sayuri sighed. “I used to be able to do so much… I used to think that I was absolutely invulnerable. I thought…if those kidnappers succeeded it wouldn’t been such a bad thing because — I wouldn’t have much to lose…”

“I don’t think you’re boring,” Leo told her sternly. “And you better not talk like that… you’re so much more than what you think is wrong with you…. and — I’m happy… happy that you’re here…”

…with me.

Sayuri smiled.

“Thank you, Leo… for everything. But I have to ask…”

“Anything.”

“All this time… why were you watching me?”

For a time, Leo couldn’t speak. He could always just lie and tell her that he simply saw her one night and he happened to pass by her on his way ever since then. There are many scenarios that he could choose from that could spare himself from embarrassment and possibly rejection… but none of them would be true.

His father’s words resounded once more in his mind.

When he looks back to this very moment some ten or twenty years into the future, will he be able to live with the fact that in this moment he didn’t tell her what he truly felt because he thought that she would think he was lame?

This isn’t some romantic fantasy.

It was his life and hers, meeting at a destined crossroad.

“You’re beautiful to me,” Leo whispered. “When I saw you for the first time, I felt like I’ve been waiting all my life just to meet you… but I was too afraid to even say hello.”

Sayuri took a moment of silence for herself before speaking, and as she did so, she looked deeply into his eyes. His gaze was a dwelling her soul found solace.

“You know,” Sayuri breathed. “Ever since I’ve came here, I couldn’t help but keep looking for something I was missing… and until tonight… I never thought that it would find me instead. I’m glad you found me, Leo.”

This time, it was Leo who moved his hand as she gently embraced her fingers in his own grasp. Sayuri suddenly remembered a saying her grandmother would repeat whenever she recalled her own love story with Sayuri’s grandfather: “恋の予感,” or premonition of love. For a long time, Sayuri did not understand her grandmother’s words, did not see the sentiment in her eyes, did not hear the nostalgic sighs escaping her breath. But tonight, Sayuri finally understood the knowing — the feeling — of an inevitable and undeniable love.

“So am I,” Leo replied quietly with her hand pocketed in his as they stared into the night of the city, dreading the dawn that will separate them once more.

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dollarbin · 1 year

Text

Dollar Bin #9:

World Party's Goodbye Jumbo

In the Spring of 1990 I became momentary friends with the edgy older dude next door.

I was 14 and in 8th grade, emerging from a month of missed school due to an epic case of poison oak followed by an even more epic bout with the chicken pox. I looked like the Elephant Man, one eye blistered entirely shut. Edgy Older Dude was in his mid-twenties and was definitely on drugs.

How do I know he was on drugs, you ask? Don't worry, I still know little to nothing about drugs. But a year after our moment of friendship Edgy Guy moved out and my dad, who owned the guy's apartment, sent me over to clean out his kitchen. In the frig I found, swear to God, at least 7 open bottles of identical BBQ sauce. Now my frig today can get a bit chaotic; sometimes I discover we're working on two competing jars of mayo simultaneously. But only a 20-something white dude on drugs is capable of racking up 7+ squirt jars of Kraft's Slow Simmered Original.

Anyway, this guy and I conducted our friendship entirely through his bedroom window. You see, at that point in 8th grade I was searching for The Answer. So were you. A calendar year earlier I Won't Back Down had fundamentally changed my life. Tom Petty's full moon masterpiece disinterested me in baseball cards and comic books forever and set me firmly on the path that led straight to the Dollar Bin.

Petty led me to the Wilburys; the Wilburys led me to the Beatles; the Beatles led me to insist on getting a pair of Lennon's circular granny frames at the optometrist. But then I hit a roadblock. MTV was all Aerosmith and Janet Jackson and I never could work up the energy to try and understand Janie's Got a Gun or what had happened in 1814. So what was next? My 8th grade self had no idea.

Then World Party's Put the Message in the Box glided out the window next door: a warm, earnest cloud of harmony and comfort set to a white guy beat.

And if you listen now, you might hear, a new sound coming in, as an old one disappears...

Him: "Hey kid, what's up?"

(It was a reasonable question. I was standing directly outside his bedroom window, staring in, transfixed.)

Me: "Oh, hey. Sorry. I like that song, sir."

Him: "Yeah. Just came out. World Party. Totally sweet."

Me: "Wow. Yeah. I like the Beatles."

Him: "Right on kid. Want me to tape this for you?"

Me: "Wow. Yeah. Like, totally."

A day later the guy's arm stuck out the window and passed me a Maxell tape (remember the guy sitting in profile in his armchair, getting blown away by the audio quality one experienced from a Maxell tape?) of World Party's Goodbye Jumbo, an album I will now argue belongs in the pantheon of still extremely worthwhile 80's White Guy Rock.

Ah, the category known as Worthwhile 80's White Guy Rock. Stephen Stills appears in it not. Little did you know that what started with Armed Forces and found prestige pinnacles with The Joshua Tree, Disintegration, Graceland, So and Synchronicity, and classic oddball variations with Shooting Rubber Bands at the Stars and Petty, Dylan and Co's various resuscitations, all finds its righteous conclusion in Goodbye Jumbo, Karl Wallinger's fantastic double to The White Album.

Of course Goodbye Jumbo remains a very minor record in comparison to the others I mention above. If there's a signature sound from the album left in the memory of anyone other than me it's likely the brief, squirming riff that opens the first single, Way Down Now. Wallingher squeezes his guitar like a full tube of toothpaste, spiraling out a strangled surge of joy. Take a listen.

youtube

At the close of the 80's my father seemed like the person least likely to help me on my quest to find awesome popular music. My siblings and I grew up without a working stereo in the house and when I insisted we listen to Running Down a Dream in the car the only vaguely relevant comment my mercurial and forever overworked dad could summon up was that I should really listen to Toad, Cream's 8 minute drum solo song from Wheels of Fire. Somehow that track, and that track alone, had lodged in his memory. Was his recommendation earnest or mischievous? Definitely both. That's my dad.

Anyway, my father's sole moment of brilliance when it comes to talking to me about music in the last 35 years came when he first overheard me listening to Way Down Now. As the song began to climax and soar he stepped over the Millennium Falcon that still cluttered up my bedroom floor and started singing along!

Woo-Woo! Woo-Woo!

Somewhere in his brain, otherwise crammed with Reganomics, house paint color wheels and bidding estimates, there was still room left for Toad and the background vocal line from Sympathy for the Devil.

"Your band is stealing from the Stones, son," he said as the song ended. Then he wandered off, continuing to sing it, without further explanation, leaving me totally flummoxed: who were "the Stones" and what did they have to do with the fantastic music coming from the homemade tape I had on repeat? Furthermore, did my father have a secret life?

I once again sought out the dude next door, standing at his window, oblivious to all social mores, until he reappeared.

"What's up kid? Like the tape?"

"Oh yes, sir. But my dad says they're stealing from the Stones."

"The Rolling Stones? Damn, he's right. Sympathy for the Devil. They're stealing from everyone. It's genius. The fifth track is my favorite. Pure Prince."

At that point I was even more confused. I knew about The Rolling Stones. My friends Matt and Eric, who had cool dads, had gone to see Keith and Mick at the LA Colosseum the year before; Guns and Roses, whose fold-out naked lady tape cover for Lies scared the living crap out of me, had opened for them. But how could a band copy the senior citizens behind Mixed Emotions and the Bat Dance guy at the same time?

I went, like a good little boy, and listened to my tape again, counting down to the fifth track, Ain't Gonna Come Till I'm Ready, and I instantly discovered it was the only song I couldn't stand on the album. Maybe Neighbor Dude and I were not destined to be best friends after all. World Party sang like a girl in that song! The word "falsetto" was definitely not in my vocabulary and it would take another year or so before I heard Crazy Love and began to understand white people soul music.

Another word that was not in my vocabulary was "genre", but my self-education took a step forward when I realized that every song on Goodbye Jumbo had a different mood, a different sound.

Listen to the album today and all this stuff is obvious. The album opens with a handmade gesture; Is It Too Late? is Eno sitting in on the Let It Be sessions, with Wallinger turning on an amateur drum machine and then asking an engineer to start recording even though, obviously, he's already rolling. Does this band know what they are doing, we wonder? Of course they do; by the middle of the track things are on fire.

youtube

Every song that follows after in Goodbye Jumbo unfurls its own unique sonic banner. Check out the clouded rainbow dream pop of When the Dream Comes, or the Plastic Ono beautiful death march of God On My Side, or the Dylan/Simon breakfast cereal mashup on Take It Up.

In the decade that followed, Yo La Tengo took Goodbye Jumbo's mixtape, honor-thy-many-masters, approach and perfected it. They rocked; they crooned; they raged; they droned. But Ira, Georgia and James were three (ridiculously talented) people. Wallinger built Goodbye Jumbo alone. That's right; don't be fooled by the full band, cheesy music videos: like the aforementioned Plastic Ono Band, World Party was basically just one guy playing every instrument.

The lyrics on the record are tough for me to measure with any real objectivity. Love Street and Put the Message in the Box sounded to me, at age 14, like sister tracks to Let it Be and Imagine. Wallinger isn't humble on this record; he's out to change the world with a way early environmentalist focus and all kinds of Pleas For Understanding that probably sound pretentious to modern ears. But I still hear those songs like I'm back in Algebra 1, teaching myself how to draw peace signs.

By one measure Goodbye Jumbo is the last record I own that should be considered for the Dollar Bin. Last Spring, after 30 years of looking, I found a pristine vinyl copy and bought it for $40, making it the most expensive individual record I've ever bought. Vinyl records were barely made between 89 and the 00's, so records from that era are always priced at a steep premium.

But don't lose faith in me because of that sticker price, my fellow Dollar Bin Dwellers: I guarantee that you can pick up a CD copy of Goodbye Jumbo for a buck without too much hard looking, and, who am I kidding, all this stuff is available on Spotify anyway.

So I'm putting this message in the box and I'm sending it around the world in a car: Goodbye Jumbo is the late 80's Dollar Bin treasure.

#world party #stephen stills still sucks #the 80s #Youtube

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barkspawn · 2 years

Note

Hi! Just repeating the prompt here :) thx

I'm a miner on my farm, so I always had this idea where when you reach 0hp on the desert mines, somebody finds you and harvey has to do an emergency surgery, i always wanted to see Elliot reacting to the thought of losing the farmer, it would be absolutely angsty but i think he'd be very relieved when the farmer is out of danger

This woke something up in me and I'm not even mad

Things like this don't happen in Stardew Valley. Sure, people get sick. But no one is ever injured to the point of fighting for their life. Thankfully, Harvey worked in trauma before moving to Pelican Town. So when Sandy and Emily came running in with an unconscious farmer covered in blood, it came as an immense shock. Emily banged on the door, screaming for Harvey as blood dripped and pooled on the ground below.

“Em, she’s losing so much blood,” Sandy cried, her arms growing tired, though she fought through the ache. Harvey came downstairs as quickly as he could, hair a complete mess from coming down from bed. He pulled his lab coat on as he unlocked and pulled the door open.

“Ladies, what’s going o-” his eyes fell on the farmer, panic setting in for only a moment before he switched to doctor mode, moving to the side, “Are you able to carry her to the bed in the back? On the left?”

Sandy nodded and ran back, leaving smeared footprints of blood heading back to the beds as Harvey took Emily by the shoulders, trying to calm her, “Emily, focus on me,” the woman took a shaky breath and nodded slowly, “I need you to go get Maru and Kent. Can you do that for me?”

She paused before nodding, starting backward to Kent’s home first, “Doctor, what about Elliott?”

Her voice broke as she asked, the image in her head of his face hurting to think of. Harvey paused, only for a second before responding, his voice low, “Not yet, let me figure out what needs to be done.”

Fresh tears welled in Emily’s eyes as Harvey added, “I’ll send Sandy for Maru, just get Kent, okay?” she nodded and ran off as the door closed behind Harvey, Sandy’s voice ringing through the halls.

“Harvey!” her voice broke, “I… I don’t think she’s breathing…” she started to lose her breath, “It’s so much blood,” she cried, Harvey running back, unable to console the woman at the moment while he hooked up different leads and monitors.

“I need you to run to get Maru,” he sternly called, glancing up to see her pause, “Sandy, the only thing you can do to help her right now is getting me the help I need.”

She nodded and turned, running through the office and leaving Harvey alone to try and resuscitate his friend.

“Come on, Amelia.. We need you to come back,” he huffed through the compressions, glancing up at the door every minute in hopes someone would come in. When Kent finally turned into the room and cursed under his breath, things moved like a blur. Kent took over compressions until Harvey was able to intubate. Harvey cut her shirt to assess the damage, the sheer amount of slashes and undeniable internal bleeding causing a fearful look between the men.

Maru turned the corner and froze, Harvey already gathering what little surgical supplies he had, barking out orders, “Kent, sterilize everything you can and grab one of the gowns and a pair of gloves from the top drawer on the left behind you,” he noticed Maru, his voice dropping a bit as he laid out the tools, “Maru, go get Elliott. He needs to be here.”

Maru nodded before turning, hesitating, “Doctor, is she going to die?”

Harvey shot her a look before his expression softened, “I don’t know, Maru. But say nothing to Elliott about how she is. Just bring him here.”

Maru nodded before running out of the door, avoiding the smeared blood.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Elliott groaned, crumpling up yet another page and throwing it against the wall in frustration. For what felt like the millionth time, he picked up his phone and checked for a response from Amelia. She was going to the mines today and she likely just fell asleep as soon as she got home. Just as he had the thought, there was a frantic knock on his door.

He stood and walked over, furrowing his brow as he opened it, “Amelia, you scared the lif-” he stopped as he saw Maru, more panicked than he’d seen anyone in a long time, “Maru, what’s wro-?”

She didn’t say anything, she just grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the path to town. Truthfully, she didn’t trust herself not to freak out if she said anything out loud other than, “Clinic. We need to be there now.”

The man found himself jogging to keep up with her. Emily stood by Pierre’s, sobbing in Sandy’s arms. He thought for a second that she was covered in blood, but that was preposterous. Maru threw the door open to the clinic and ran in, not even stopping to notice Elliott had stopped, staring at the pooled blood by the door.

People had started peeking out of their homes, the wailing of the two women drawing their attention. He felt as though he was watching everything through a lens, unsure of what was going on and trying to decipher anything. He knew Sandy was from the desert, but that raised the possibility that it could be…

No.

It couldn’t be, obviously. She was fine this morning. He looked toward the farm before looking back into the clinic, finally pulling the door open and stepping in. He couldn’t listen to the crying from the two women any longer. He stepped around the blood on the ground, walking toward the door to the back, stepping back in shock as it opened just as he reached it. Kent stood there in a yellow (and red, given the crimson blood spattered over it) paper gown and gloves that he was pulling off.

“Elliott, hi. We-”

“What the hell is going on? There’s blood everywhere and I was quite literally dragged here by-”

“It’s Amelia,” Kent cut him off, knowing he needed to do this quickly, “She was brought in tonight in… critical condition. Harvey is doing surgery now to help with some of her injuries, but she has been touch and go. She isn’t breathing on her own yet and she’s had a lot of blood-”

“That’s enough,” Elliott cut him off, his brow knit together, the list of reasons he could lose her making him feel a mixture of faint and nauseated. His voice was low and almost threatening, “Go back there and help Harvey because if she doesn’t come out-” he cleared his throat, his voice cracking. Kent frowned, a look of pure pity painting his face.

“We will keep you updated,” he turned before pausing, turning to look at Elliott for a moment, “I know it feels like your world is collapsing but take care of yourself and drink water,” he offered a small smile in an attempt to cut through any tension, “she’ll kill both of us if you end up in a bed here too.”

Elliott didn’t respond, he just stood, staring at the door for a long moment. He fought the stinging in his eyes, knowing that if he cried, that meant it could be the end. He refused to let it be the end. He started pacing, chewing on a fingernail as he walked. His eyes caught the small group of people standing in the square and looking into the clinic. Irritated, he walked over to the window and pulled the strings one by one, dropping the blinds. He always tried to be as nice as possible but he can’t worry about it tonight. He took a deep breath, cursing the shakiness in the sound. He paced for what felt like hours, a million questions running through his mind.

What the hell happened? What exactly was wrong? Who or what did this to her? How much blood did she lose? How is she now?

Will she make it?

As that question crossed his mind, his breath shuddered. He heard faint yelling from the back, Harvey’s voice followed by Kent’s, panicked and filled with authority. Elliott leaned back against the wall next to the counter, as far away from the blood as possible. He couldn’t stop the sob from escaping as he let himself slide down the wall, pulling his knees to his chest. With a shaky breath, he tied his hair back, irritated by the strands getting stuck to his cheeks because of the tears and nervous sweat. He rested his forehead against his knees, trying to calm himself.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Harvey was moving methodically, Kent being an incredible help as a result of his military training. They were able to stop a lot of the internal bleeding as Maru hung another bag of blood.

“It’s the last one, sir,” she spoke, her voice too soft. Harvey cursed under his breath, driving in just how vital this was. Maru had never once heard Harvey use language that bad.

“Kent..” Harvey spoke, his voice strained and exhausted as he looked up at the man, “I have to flush her out, and if we didn’t stop the bleeding…”

“We’re fucked,” Kent finished, his voice grim. Maru had inhaled sharply as Harvey started to prep for flushing her out. It seemed as though all three of them were holding their breath as he started to push the saline.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Elliott flinched as he heard another shout from the back. His hands covered his face as he tried to control himself. The door to the clinic opened and he heard someone step in.

“Fuck, El,” Leah ran over to the man, dropping down next to him and wrapping him in a tight hug, “El, I just heard, I’m so sorry. I’m sure she’ll be alright..”

The dam broke as she held him, his racking sobs shaking him to his core. Leah’s heart broke as her best friend came undone. She just held him as he cried for a few minutes before he was able to get out any words.

“Leah, there’s a real possibility here that she could-” he choked back another sob as there was another shout back from the room, “she might not make it.”

“Shh, Elliott,” Leah rocked him in an attempt to comfort him in this indescribable moment, “Don’t think like that, okay? Just think about your breathing, focus on that, okay?”

“Leah, I’m in love with her,” he choked out, causing her to pull back and look at him with pure sadness, “I never got to tell her I love her.”

Elliott was spiraling and Leah was doing the best she could to keep him grounded, fighting the tears that escaped her own eyes for both Elliott and Amelia. Once Elliott calmed a bit, he just sat there, staring ahead at the now-dry blood on the floor. It had been hours and he’d heard nothing, so when the door opened, he shot to his feet, bounding over to it. His heart sank as he saw it was Harvey, who looked exhausted and dejected. When the doctor’s eyes met his, his heart sank to the pit of his stomach.

“Doctor…?”

Harvey offered a weak smile, spatterings of blood even painting his button-up shirt. It was everywhere.

“She should be okay, Elliott.”

He could hardly believe him, knowing that it wasn’t a definite statement. Still, it gave him some hope, “Can I see her?”

Harvey frowned, taking a mental note to clean up the mess, “She’s still intubated, just until her numbers improve just a little bit,” he paused, frowning, “and you should know, she doesn’t look good. She’s covered in cuts and bruises. The tubes and wires can be overwhelming to see-”

“I don’t care, Harv. I need to see her - to see that she’s alive.”

Harvey sighed, stepping aside and letting him through, “before you go in, you should know we didn’t have a chance to clean any-”

Elliott had already pushed open the door, Kent and Maru in the process of cleaning. Elliott didn’t even know that human bodies could hold as much blood as there was. The quiet hiss of the ventilator and the rhythmic beeping of the monitor were the only sounds for a long moment before Maru and Kent shared a look, deciding to give him a moment alone with her.

He stood there frozen for a long moment before moving to her side, lacing his fingers with hers as carefully as he could. He stayed there for the next twelve days.

Amelia took about two days before she woke up and only one day before she started breathing on her own. Elliott was elated when she was extubated as he could watch her more carefully and actually feel there was a chance. After a week, she was already bugging Harvey to go home.

“Harvey, I’m fine. Nothing is infected, you know Elliott will be there every moment, Shane is helping with the farm, and I won’t even think about the mines for a while,” she protested when Harvey told her it would be a few more days. The raspiness of her voice didn’t do much to help her.

“Amelia, if you knew how it was when you were brought in…” Harvey started, sighing, “Twelve days is all I’m asking. It’s the shortest amount of time I’m willing to help you stay. And you have to come in every other day after to be checked,” she started to protest, “I can’t chance there being any bleeding again.”

She resigned, turning her head to face Elliott, who was clearly exhausted, “Was it really that bad, El?”

Elliott frowned, flashes of the seemingly endless waiting and the blood-covered floors filling his mind, “Yes, love. I…” he met her eyes, biting his lower lip for a second, contemplating whether now was the time. He sighed, raising her hand to his lips for a kiss, “I thought you were going to die.”

When twelve days came, Amelia was already bugging Elliott to help her get dressed as soon as they woke up. Harvey frowned before looking over her wounds, surprised to see how well they were healing. It was odd how quickly injuries seemed to heal in the valley. He once assumed maybe there was magical protection, but dismissed that theory immediately.

She gathered her things and Elliott pulled the loose sweater (his sweater) over her head. She smiled and leaned forward to press her lips to his in a gentle, loving kiss. Harvey cleared his throat as he walked in, “not to kill the mood, but I have to recommend you refrain from… strenuous activity.”

Amelia stood and rolled her eyes before teasing, “No worries, doc. We’ll be careful.”

Harvey’s face flushed, not having expected the comment. Though, he should have. It was a tactic she often used to mess with him. He just smiled, knowing she was back to herself.

They walked out of the clinic hand in hand, though she stopped just beyond the door as she took note of the almost black stains between the stones in the path. Elliott frowned, knowing they tried to get it all up but struggled. Harvey planned on getting a heavy welcome mat, thinking it’d make the storefront more welcoming anyway. She squeezed his hand, glad that no one seemed to be out and about this early. She was excited to get home, but she was tired still. It turns out healing takes a lot out of you.

“Thank you, El.”

“Hm?” he glanced down at her, noting her gaze ahead, deep in thought, “What for?”

“You stayed with me. Even though I was stupid enough to go recklessly into the skull cavern with no tonics and-” she started, her voice growing frustrated.

“None of that,” Elliott chided, his hand squeezing hers, adjusting her backpack of tools over his shoulder as they approached the stairs to the cabin, “Listen,” he stopped her just in front of the door, facing her and using it as an excuse to put the heavy pack down beside them. He cupped her face in his hands, “It happened. We can’t do a single thing to change that, but you cannot linger and beat yourself up any more than you already have.”

She smiled and stole a small kiss from him, pausing after she pulled back at the thoughtful look on his face. She turned her head to kiss his palm before he moved his hands down over her arms to hold her hands.

“Amelia, I had a lot of time to think when you were back there..” she frowned as he spoke, relaxing as his eyes met hers, “and I think there was something more important than any of the other thoughts I had.”

She stared at him for a long moment, scanning his face before squeezing his hands, “and that was…?”

He took a deep breath before smiling at her, his expression soft, “I’m in love with you, Amelia,” her breath hitched as he watched her face grow crimson, “I sat in the waiting room and imagined life without you and there wasn’t a single moment that I could think of where I’d be okay. It felt like my world was ending,” he paused, looking down at their hands for a moment before sighing, “Sorry, you don’t need to hear that. I just… I realized that each and every feeling I have for you is every definition of love. I couldn’t stand the idea that I might not have been able to tell you.”

She stood there for a long moment, mentally trying to calm the butterflies dancing in her already sore abdomen. After a moment, she smiled, raising her pointer and middle finger, “Two things,” she started, his eyebrows raising in genuine curiosity, “I don’t care what it is or when it is, don’t ever feel like you can’t talk to me about what’s on your mind whether it’s trauma or not.”

He gave a small nod, the sentiment only further proving him correct.

“Secondly,” she barely paused before she pulled him down to her, not quite ready to stand on her toes for a kiss. He hummed in surprise, which quickly became one of her favorite sounds in the universe. She let herself deepen the kiss as he rest his hands gingerly on her waist in an attempt to remind himself she had to be careful and to keep her from overextending herself.

He let out an appreciative hum as she bit his lower lip. As he thought she might, she inhaled sharply, pulling back from the kiss.

“Fuck, sorry... That’s hardly romantic,” she pouted, her lips swollen from the heated kiss. Her slightly pained look faded into a small smile as she reached up to touch his face, filled with concern for her pain.

“Second thing, if you didn’t quite get it,” she teased, “I’m in love with you, too, El.”

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