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hotmothsummer · 3 years ago

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Moth’s Daemon AU Specifics

In which I infodump about daemons for a whole post more than I have already. :] I hope this answers any questions one may have about how I view daemons, and why I write them the way I do. I am sorry, I don’t know how to make cuts and this is going to be pretty long. Start scrolling now.

As they are defined in my au, a daemon is an outer reflection of ones inner self manifesting in the form of an animal, often one that is somehow indicative of that person's nature. It is not technically the soul*, it is more the part of you that speaks back when you talk to yourself. A whole person is a daemon and a human. When I’m talking about a person, I mean both the human and the daemon.

*note: I, as the author, don’t treat daemons as if they were the soul. This does not mean that the characters in-world will not see them as their soul. It’s a popular belief, spread around in communities and folktales. It’s usually a topic not studied enough to prove otherwise, so it’s what most people believe.

Terminology

Dust: Every sentient creature who thinks, dreams, creates, and lives makes Dust. Humans and other intelligent species generate enough of it that the result turns into daemons. Daemons are made up of Dust.

Dust Anchor: A daemon can be defined as this. It is simply the way an intelligent species’ Dust interacts and manifests within the physical world. The way they do this can change from species to species

Shifting: The action of an unsettled daemon to change shape between the forms of any animal they please.

Settling: The moment a daemon finds their permanent form. After this, they can no longer shift. It is typically considered a ‘rite of passage’ moment, where the person may now be considered an adult. Daemons can settle anywhere from ages 11-19 yrs.

Range: A daemon and a human can only move so far from each other without it hurting the both of them. This physical distance is called their range. On average, I’d say the typical range between a human and their daemon is around 6 ft (1.8 m). If they stretch too far at it, it risks snapping.

Stretching: The action of a range between a human and daemon being pushed to the brink. This can cause physical pain to both parties when performed. Sudden stretches can mean death for a daemon.

The Human-Daemon Relationship

The Self - As stated above, a human and a daemon are one person, and are treated as such. The human and daemon sides may have their own conversations, thoughts, and sensations, but at the end of the day, it all filters down into one singular mind and personhood. This also means that they have adapted to their own personality as they’ve grown up and developed. Naturally, they compensate for the other half, just a bit, in personality and traits.

A Shared Mindspace - In my au, it is highly implied the human and daemon halves hold a shared mindspace between them. It is where they share memories, experiences, emotions. Clear, articulated, wordy thoughts don’t really get communicated. It’s not telepathy, it’s simply being on the same page forever and always. Not everything filters into the mindspace, but even if it isn’t it’s not likely it’ll be kept a secret. The reason for this is to further highlight the fact that a daemon is merely an extension of the self.

tl:dr You’re you, the daemon is you, the daemon is the daemon, you’re the daemon — it’s all you-stuff!

Social Relations With/Regarding Daemons

During day to day conversation, it isn’t uncommon for humans to only speak and interact with the human half, and daemons to only interact with the daemon. This doesn’t mean there is a strict taboo over a human speaking to the others daemon, or vice versa. It’s just less typical for strangers like the cashier to do it, and more expected for closer family members and friends.

Touching Daemons

(Even though this is part of the above section, I feel it’s a big enough topic to have its own. Also my formatting is shit already and nothings gonna change that. I’m blaming tumblr mobile.)

A human touching another persons daemon is one of the higher forms of intimacy. I personally like to compare it with kissing. You may not kiss a complete stranger, but you would more likely kiss your child, your partner, family members, closer friends. It is not a strictly sexual or romantic gesture, and can be performed by anyone, in any sort of relationship they feel is close enough to warrant it.

It often is a rather big deal, as it basically says ‘I trust you with this vulnerable part of me and have allowed you to get close enough to hold it and touch it.’

Non-Consensual Daemon Touching

It is possible for a daemon to be touched by someone else without either sides permission and consent. It will feel intrusive, invasive, and possibly even physically painful to the person being touched. It is a direct violation of that person’s trust and boundaries.

Why?

Why is daemon touching such a big deal? Why do people treat it with such taboo? Well, the way I like to see it, a daemons pretty much an unprotected electric socket, and what happens when you touch one of those? You could get a shock. This is how I treat daemon touching, except the socket is the daemon and the electricity is emotions and feelings.

This is bc a daemon is made up of Dust, right, which is generated by intelligent thought and creativity. To me, it kind of makes sense if, when you touch a persons daemon, it’s a straight path to that persons thoughts, feelings, and emotions.

So, yeah. This post is by no means done, and I fully intend to add onto and edit it in the future, but I hope it’s at least entertaining and answers any questions one might have about daemons and the way I write them specifically.

#daemons #long post #dsmp daemon au #daemon au #sorry about the formatting but also not

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mihanada · 5 years ago

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Heaven Official’s Blessing Liveblog

As promised, a liveblog of Heaven Official’s Blessing! I am treating this as my first read through past Chapter 21. I do know a lot of the major plot lines, but I will try my best to keep any spoilers out of the entire thing since this cannot be considered a re-read.

This novel is long, so it may be the case that I liveblog more than one chapter at a time in the future!

Chapter 1: Heaven Official’s Blessing

I really, truly think the first chapter is both unnecessarily dense and suitable for the type of story this grand tale will turn out to be. The scope of the first chapter is huge and treated like both a fairytale and a historical account, which is TGCF in a nutshell. It may suit the story to come, but it also means that I dropped this novel twice without making it past the first chapter. It’s worse than Scum Villain because it isn’t confusing really: it’s somewhat of a dry read. A lot happens that I knew I wouldn’t remember if and when it became relevant again, which makes this novel good to reread, but hard to pick up.

[“I want to save the common folks!”]

A kind-hearted and earnest crown prince may not be my favorite main character archetype, but it has truly been so long since I’ve seen it in western fantasy (not to say there still aren’t novels with this character archetype, but none of the ones I’ve read or seen circulating have one as the MC) that I am much more open to seeing one now. Although the first section of this chapter is a glowing review of His Royal Highness the Crown Prince, the “famous laughing stock” of the three realms sets you up to say “alright, now how is this about to all go horribly wrong”, so there’s that.

Actually, MXTX’s other two novels had a similar thing going on. The first chapter already reveals, to some extent, that the main character has made mistakes in his life and a good part of the story is seeing the nature of those mistakes. I think this is what made me intrigued enough to continue reading her works, or at least go back to it in TGCF’s case.

So, we have a naive and earnest crown prince and the next section relates a story of him performing a ritual to earn good luck for the country. Considering the ancient setting and the xianxia setting, you can understand why the officials flip out when their crown prince derps off to save a child in the middle of it. I wonder if someone dying in the middle of such a ceremony wouldn’t also be ominous? In their perspective perhaps it’s not as bad a thing, but to our crown prince, this isn’t a question at all.

Someone was in trouble, so naturally he should save that child if it’s in his power to do so.

The first interesting point is his stubbornness. Unwilling to commit himself to something untrue (apologizing for saving a child when he isn’t sorry at all), he doesn’t even think of the consequences if the heavens decide to smite him. The officials even tell him that he doesn’t have to fully commit to the apology, just a “gesture” will suffice. Although this makes it seem like the apology really isn’t a big deal, the responsible thing to do as the next ruler of the country would be to just face the wall for a bit and leave it at that - but it’s against his principles, so he won’t.

Even if we weren’t told his age, it’s easy to guess by his words: [“How could the heavens fault me because I did the right thing? Then the heavens would be the ones who are in the wrong. Why should the people who are right apologize to the ones who are wrong?”]

There are so many characters in this novel that it becomes extra important for the dialogue to carry details like this - which not all writers are good at.

[He had never encountered anything he wasn’t able to accomplish, and he had also never met anyone who didn’t love him. He was always right, and he was the heart of the world.] And there is the root of the problem. But I might get back to this later, or else my inner psychology nerd will come out.

(Side note: Out of MXTX’s three MCs, it’s Xie Lian and Wei Wuxian who don’t believe in saving face - and it brings them all sorts of external troubles from society. On the flip side, Shen Qingqiu is so careful about maintaining his image that his personal relationships get neglected and misunderstandings form, which then leads to a good chunk of society willing to shoot him down.)

Next story is a ghost terrorizing a bridge - great symbolism there, and also a trial for our crown prince.

[“This child’s future is limitless, impossible to measure.”] AND YET IT IS ALL GOING TO GO SO WRONG.

[The things he wanted, there was nothing he could not obtain. The things he wanted to do, there was nothing that was impossible for him to accomplish. And when he wanted to ascend into godhood, he really ascended into godhood at age seventeen.] Again, significant to understand his mentality as a 17-year-old. Once you’ve ascended to godhood, a feat some cannot accomplish even after devoting their lives to it, truly the word impossible should not even exist...right?

[...heaven’s godly officials could not meddle according to their wishes. Unless it was a result of demons and ghouls overstepping or violating their boundaries, what happened must be allowed to happen.] Interesting and very important rules. Practical, too. The duties, limitations, and roles that heavenly officials play as gods to the mortal realm are actually quite intriguing, but I think it’ll take a while for it all to reveal itself. For now, it’s removing themselves from two important duties they had in life - loyalty and devotion to one’s country and ancestors/relatives.

And in this section, we read about how it all went wrong - meddling in the war didn’t save his country, and the people ended up resenting him.

[From then on, a martial god known for protection and peace faded away, and a demonic god who attracted disasters was born.

When people said you were a god, then you were a god. If they said you were shit, then you were shit. Whatever the people said you were, that was what you became.]

MXTX likes to write about society, particularly these aspects of society. It bears keeping in mind as we progress through the story. It’s all about perspective.

[“Body in the abyss, but heart in paradise.”

Because the one who personally said the phrase had already proved that when his body was in the abyss, his heart was not in paradise.]

I’ll come back to these lines at some point. But, yeah. A person who has never failed before in his life finally does so, and it’s possibly the most catastrophic of consequences. Looking back at those naive words, though they can be seen as profound, I can also see how they’re somewhat pretentious and at one’s absolute lowest, may seem impossible to live up to.

[Now that he was banished twice, would he become a demon and retaliate by abusing the common people?] Luckily for heaven and earth, our MC did not go down that route. And everyone kept a close eye on him for a while after that second ascension and banishment, which - kinda creepy, ok. Then they lost track of him because he obviously wasn’t about to wreak glorious havoc against them again, so why bother?

And, finally, we come to the last section and his final ascension! This is why I gave up twice before finally powering through. This whole chapter is basically a history book and it was difficult to get through before knowing anything about the characters, or why the reader should care. But, well, I made it. Eventually. And I’m excited to get past Chapter 21 at last, lol.

(masterpost)

onward →

#heaven official's blessing #tian guan ci fu #tgcf aka a trial by fire and tears #links to be added later

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secretsfromwholecloth · 5 years ago

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Dragon Age: Origins, day 12.

Crashing while I’m trying to load up last night’s save? That’s new.

Anora, dear, Alix would really just love it if you’d stop this nonsense and vacate her boyfriend’s chair. No? Ah, well, she tried.

I could listen to Riordan all day. All. Day.

Alistair, sweetheart, of course Alix remembered. You’re not the only one who had Duncan (and his war gear) there at a big time in their life. Do you, ah, recognize the dagger strapped to her left shoulder at all?

So. Party for the Landsmeet. I have a decision to make. Alistair is obviously necessary, but I have two more slots after that. It looks like the only combat is going to be the one-on-one duel with Loghain, so Wynne isn’t a no-brainer like she is normally, though I don’t know, she might want to be there for her new son’s big day. Sten makes in-character sense for “scary bodyguard” reasons. So Sten and Wynne it is, I think.

Alix would really rather not fight Cauthrien again, not after how last time went, but if this damned woman keeps refusing to see sense...whew, she stood down. There’s a good ser, now stay well out of Alix’s way.

Ooh, rousing speech time! I love rousing speech time!

Loghain characterizing Alix as Alistair’s “puppeteer” is deeply uncharitable, but it’s hard to call him wrong. If you ask her, she’s merely sheltering him until he has time to grow into someone who can rule effectively on his own and doesn’t need her whispering in his ear every second, so that she can get on with her own work, of which there’s sure to be quite a lot—rebuilding the Ferelden branch of the Wardens on top of all the usual queen stuff like maintaining relations outside the palace, seeing to the royal household, and eventually either popping out a kid by some miracle or finding some other way to secure the succession.

I’d almost forgotten what game I was playing, but then Loghain yelled about rape and insulted Eamon for apparently being fat. Thanks for the reminder!

OK, duel time. Another decision to make: In-character, it makes sense to either have Alix fight herself or have Alistair do it. Or even Sten, who’s there specifically as muscle.

Alix took down Howe, it’s only fair to give Alistair a go at the man who played a similar role in his life.

This is going to be fiddly—I’m used to letting the AI deal with him unless he’s in immediate danger, so I’m less familiar with the use of his abilities than I might be. Lots of pausing, lots of poultices. Come on, kid, we can get through this.

Welp, that’s that taken care of. Alistair, kid, I’m sorry, I could really have gotten you here in a better way, but rest assured that Alix loves you and takes her responsibility to you as (literally) the poor bastard she dragged along on her revenge coup very seriously. You’ll have all the help she can give you in adjusting to being king.

Yes, this is the sound of me desperately headcanoning my fuckups to be less bad and swearing to redo this route one day, because I absolutely owe Alistair some nice things after all this.

And now, we level ‘em up, kit ‘em out, and pray.

...oh, this is that bug where Leliana thinks you were dating and gets hurt and shocked by your engagement to Alistair, isn’t it. Come on, Leliana, I don’t appreciate having to get sharp with you for no reason.

Ah. Here we go. Morrigan is making her offer of the dark ritual. Now, look, considering who perpetrated this bit of writing, I do wonder if the idea was to translate the emotional impact of compulsory heterosexuality for a presumed straight audience. If it is, I am 100% not the person to critique it on that level; as far as the outside world is concerned, I’m a cishet woman slinging strange words around to seem special, and this is very much not my lane. But the particulars launch it into the realm of simple misogyny and rapeyness, and those are things I can speak on. So. I don’t like it. Maker spare me from white dude writers who find the violation of others’ boundaries and bodily and mental integrity absolutely fascinating. Someone please tell sir that this isn’t edgy and cool, it’s creepy.

You know, I’ve said the same thing about Av*ll*ne more than once during Pillars or KotOR playthroughs. But at least he’s subtle about it and tucks the rapey stuff away in backstories or behind metaphors! Never thought I’d be pining for that guy, I swear to God.

The “It must be him, and it must be tonight!” bit—OK, we’re clearly playing a fun game of How Much Creepy Can We Load Into One Conversation. Yaaaaaay.

So. We’ve got the dodgy consent thing, we’ve got the “women are scary witches after men’s precious bodily fluids” thing that’s been going on the entire time with Morrigan, glad to see it all in the fucking open. So to speak. *sigh*

Anyway. In-character: Alix has asked a whole hell of a lot of her fiancé over the last few days. Maybe not been too considerate at times. Now there’s one more thing. It’s a big one. He’d be within his rights to hate her for it. Please let him not hate me, she thinks. I only want him to live. I only want us to live.

And yes, she was absolutely mortified to explain the whole thing to him. Pretty much ready to have a panic attack the whole time.

...does Morrigan think the issue here is jealousy? Oh, honey, no. Alix had her whole life to get used to the idea of her future husband potentially having a mistress, a one-off sexual encounter with someone he has no desire to go back to is nothing. No, her worries are a. that this is hurting him and b. that you could wreak all sorts of havoc with a child housing an Old God even if he never presses his claim to the throne. In that order.

I can’t speak for anyone else, but I did not need that cutscene in my life.

Headcanon: Alix and her various boyfriends have had a thing for bathing each other since she was a teenager. It’s a way to fuss over each other and have physical contact that’s only as sexual as you want it to be. So while there wasn’t time for a proper bath, you bet your ass that before she sent Alistair off with Morrigan, she told him she’d be ready with a basin and a rag if he could still stand the sight of her afterwards.

Aw, Alistair’s rousing speech before the battle is rather sweet.

Final party: Alistair and Wynne, my usual undroppables, obviously. I think I need another combat wombat, but does that mean someone tanky, or does it mean a second rogue? Hm, I think I could do with Shale, she picked up some pretty sweet skills at her last level-up.

Aww, mama Wynne is proud of her new daughter.

Really, all of the goodbye speeches are sweet.

And with that, it might behoove me to go get some sleep and finish up tomorrow.

#dragon age #dragon age: origins #alix cousland

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mysamcedesmadness · 6 years ago

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So, About those Dreams...

Piper was always getting invited or devising her way into things for older kids. Maybe it was because she had an older brother that as a child she always had to tag along with, maybe she simply had mature tastes. But, she was definitely going to that spring for formal at the high school. She'd gotten Charlotte to help her with her dress and was still searching for her excuse in. When trying it on, she wondered, "Are you going stag again?"

Charlotte cleared her throat and said, "No, actually I'm gonna… go… with… Hen." Piper dropped the handful of material that Charlotte had been pinning. "Piper!" She handed it back to her.

"Sorry. I had a faint moment. I thought you said you were going to a formal dance with my brother!" She laughed.

Charlotte cleared her throat, said, "I did," and caught the material that time when Piper dropped it again.

"Did you just decide to make yourself unavailable for dances, list a bet, trying to avoid the possibility of gross Jasper kissing you, it some other, darker reason?"

"Well… Henry and I have been, umm, well.. seeing each other for a little while." Piper's eyes were wide. "We're going to the dance as a couple. On a date. A boyfriend/girlfriend dance date." She smiled awkwardly. "Surprise!"

Piper collected the material and went to the couch, "I gotta sit down for this one. I knew that something had changed. I thought that Henry wised up and finally wanted to hit it. I didn't suspect that this was mutual. What about that weird Jasper crush not too long ago?"

"It wasn't. You were right the first time. The dreams were about Henry."

Piper squinted, "You thought it was less embarrassing to pretend to dream about Jasper than my brother? He's definitely a loser too, but," Piper just shook her head.

"I thought it'd be more awkward if you knew I was dreaming about kissing your brother instead."

Piper looked like she was about to have a moment like she had when she thought Henry might be Kid Danger. "And now, the two of you DO kiss… on the lips…"

"For now." She jumped when Piper let out a shrill scream. "Piper, sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I know that girl code says you shouldn't sneak around with a friend's brother. But technically, he was my friend first and…"

"This is awesome!" Piper said.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"This. Is. Awesome. Henry belongs to me now. Anytime he thinks he's gonna pull some stupid brother stunt, I get to remind him that I'm friends with his girlfriend."

"Oh, I don't think I should get involved…"

"And boys do anything for you if it might threaten their lip kisses supply!" Piper stood up, "Thank you, Charlotte. I won't take this newfound power for granted." She giggled, then chuckled, then cackled. Charlotte just sat on the couch smiling with widened eyes.

Henry was annoyed. Ever since Piper found out that he and Charlotte were “kissing on the lips,” nearly everything that he did, she found some way to threaten to tattle to Charlotte that he was being mean, or inconsiderate, or rude. Charlotte told him that she wasn’t going to take Piper very seriously, but he wasn’t risking anything. What if in this instance or in that instance that Charlotte happened to agree with Piper and he missed out on kissing and touching and whatever else they had going on. Piper wasn’t going to deplete his cuddling resources!

She also seemed to be hinting at telling their parents about he and Char, which - he knew that his parents wouldn’t care that they were involved, but what if they became more strict about their time together. As of right now, he and Charlotte could spend hours together, unsupervised. If his parents realized that they had two teenagers in the house that were interested in each other and involved, that might be grounds for some changes of rules. He liked the current rules. He liked having Charlotte and the house to himself for several hours a night on any given night. So, anytime Piper seemed even remotely about to do anything, he went out of his way to see what he could do for her.

“Honestly, that seems like no kinda way to live,” Jasper said.

“It isn’t. But, what am I gonna do? Ruin what little time that I have to be alone with Charlotte just to not be under Piper’s foot?”

Jasper nodded his head, but Henry rolled his eyes. “Where is Char, anyway?”

“She has to do some interviews for a social experiment for her psychology class, before and after school for a few days.”

“What’s the experiment?” Jasper wondered. Henry laughed. As if he’d know! But, before Jasper had a chance to comment on that, they noticed Charlotte talking to a guy in her psychology class, outside of the classroom. He was standing pretty close to her, with his hand on the wall, practically in kiss region and Henry was not pleased. “That dude looks mighty cozy with Charlotte.”

“Yeah, he does,” Henry said and marched over to slide in between them, facing the guy. “Hi. Henry, and you are?” The kid stepped way back and awkwardly shook Henry’s hand. Henry tried to squeeze the life out of that hand.

Charlotte answered, “Henry, this is Rocky. Rocky, Henry - my boyfriend that I was telling you about a moment ago.” She clutched Henry’s shirt, almost desperately and he placed a hand over hers, staring the guy down, suddenly thinking that maybe Charlotte hadn’t wanted him all up in her space.

“Rocky. You were standing kinda close, Dude. People have bubbles. You get it. You observed yours when I stepped in the middle of you two, which I barely had room to do, because you were all up in my girl’s bubble.”

Rocky threw both of his hands into the sky and said, “She didn’t seem to mind, to me.”

Charlotte furrowed her eyebrows, “I told you that you were too close.”

“Yeah, but you giggled when you said it.”

“I laughed uncomfortably,” she corrected him, clutching Henry’s shirt tighter, angrily.

“I thought you were just joking around. It’s not like I was harming you.”

“The harm is that she told you to respect her space and you violated her wishes,” Henry said, pissed off by this point. “Why don’t you go somewhere else, right now?” Rocky rolled his eyes and left. “He’s lucky I didn’t start the conversation by punching him in the face.”

“Guys have no respect for our boundaries!” Charlotte fussed, finally letting go of Henry’s shirt. “I asked him several times to back up and even announced that I have a boyfriend and he might not appreciate it, thinking that perhaps the boyfriend card would matter more than my wants. Some people are just…” She folded her arms.

Henry cupped her chin and pressed his forehead against hers, “Do you want me to go sit on his lap at lunchtime?”

“No. He’ll think that you’re jealous and probably think that means you’re intimmedated by him and give him more fuel to bother me.”

Jasper asked, “Want me to go sit on his lap at lunchtime?”

She nodded and pointed to him, “Yes. That’s more like it.” They headed for work and Jasper wondered, “Hey, what’s your social experiment about?”

“Oh, it’s a study on how boys don’t value certain girls or seek to try to obtain them until they become involved with someone.”

“Like how all these guys are suddenly interested in you now that you and Henry are a couple!”

“Yep.”

“Wait, what?” Henry inserted himself into the conversation, suddenly interested in her project.

“Oh yeah, Charlotte always has some guy flirting with her or asking her out or complimenting her,” Jasper said.

“That’s what gave me tha idea for the study.”

Jasper commented, “To be fair, you do look better since you two started dating. You both do, actually.”

Charlotte spilled the beans, “Most of Henry’s is on purpose. He’s been trying to look better. Most of mine is hormonal. All the cuddling and stuff releasing those endorphins in my system. The oxytocin making anxiety, depression and intestinal problems vanish, and maybe that’s true for him too, but as far as I know, he’s gotten the same level of attention from girls as usual. Meanwhile, boys’ interest in me has tripled since we got together.”

“Tripled???” Henry repeated. Honestly, it was the only part that he really even understood. “You got three times the guys trying to get up in your space, now?”

Jasper chuckled, “Have you not noticed this?” Henry glared at him for asking that out loud, because now Charlotte was looking at him, like she wondered the same thing.

“I mean… I didn’t put any numerical value on it!” Henry said. Charlotte and Jasper nodded.

“Yep, tripled,” she said. “Points of the study include not only the value that these boys don’t place in girls before they’re coupled, but how they respond to replies from the girls whenever they do finally take notice. Do they accept her civil rejection? Do they refute her disinterest by talking themselves up or talking down on her partner? Do they become aggressive or defensive about her rejection? Are they more understanding in certain circumstances of rejection? Do they even want her, or are they simply interested because she’s now unavailable, because she perhaps looks better, or because possibly her confidence has shifted? I’m looking at a lot of different angles for this. I’d love to interview the two of you.”

“Cool,” Jasper said.

Henry wondered, “Why would you interview me?”

“Because, you’re a guy.”

“Yeah, but I don’t do stuff like that.”

“Didn’t you ask Chloe to hang out after Sidney asked you if it was okay if he asked her out?” Charlotte asked.

“Why are you bringin up old stuff?” Henry asked back.

His dreams were changing. At first, they went from kissing dreams, to cuddling, to heavy petting, to riskier kissing and he just knew that they were going to enter into the beyond kissing phase, but now… He was having interference dreams. Like, he and Charlotte are heavy duty making out and suddenly, guys are calling her phone, knocking on the doors and windows, sending flowers, and even emerging from beneath the bed and out of the closet to try to see if they could be next. He woke up four times in one night before he went through their texts to see all of Char’s cute night and morning messages and was able to go back to sleep.

He wasn’t well off in the morning. He threw on some clothes, washed his face, brushed his teeth and didn’t even touch his hair. Piper left early, so they were walking. Great. When he was THIS tired. Charlotte and Jasper were walking ahead of him and he was holding a thermos of coffee, despite it being way too hot for coffee. Should have iced it, but he was pressed for time after pressing the snooze on his phone five times. “Henry, are you alright?” Charlotte wondered.

“I can’t stop thinking about all of these guys trying to get with you. It kept waking me up last night. I didn’t get much sleep.” He yawned.

“Why would you lose sleep over that?” Jasper wondered. “I mean, I could see if Charlotte was trying to get with other guys, but not the other way around. If anything, that would make me sleep better, knowing that all these guys are trying to get my girl, and she decided on me, instead. That seems like a super cool feeling. I get chills just imagining that’ll happen someday.” Henry tilted his head. He hadn’t thought about it that way.

Charlotte shrugged her shoulders and said, “You’d be surprised the things that can bother your subconscious. One time, I had a recurring dream that I was ordering tea and every time, the barista would ask me if I wanted cream, and every time, I’d say no, and every time, the barista would look me right in the face and put cream into my tea and then serve it to me.”

“That’s not so bad,” Jasper said. “I like cream in my tea.”

“But, I told him ‘no!’” Charlotte argued.

“Yeah, well I had a dream that Charlotte’s half naked and we’re making out.”

“Tell us more,” Jasper said. Charlotte just frowned.

“And I look over and there’s a dude in my BED, and he asks, ‘You gonna finish that, Bruh?” Charlotte turned up her nose.

Jasper said, “That took an unexpected turn.”

“Yeah. That was all of my dreams, all night. Usually, I’m having a nice little pg 13 or pushing the envelope experience with my girlfriend. Last night - Dudepocalypse in my bedroom.”

“You should lay off the caffeine in the mornings, cut down on junk food in the evenings and maybe have some chamomile or warm milk before bed and light a lavender candle,” Charlotte said. Henry groaned with each suggestion.

“What you should do is make out with Charlotte more,” Jasper said.

“Go on,” Henry said. Charlotte rolled her eyes.

“Think about it. If you have all these daylight memories of the last times you two were making out, and there are no dudes to be found anywhere, the likelihood of them invading your dreams will have to lessen. Your real life experience will influence your sleep experience.”

“That sounds like good science and good common sense,” Henry observed.

“No it doesn’t!” Charlotte snapped. “Try MY method first, maybe even some melatonin after dinner. And, if none of that actually scientifically sound stuff works, then we’ll discuss Jasper’s weird, but not necessarily unpleasant plan.”

“Can we just make out more, on principle?” Henry wondered.

“What principle?” She asked.

“That I want to?”

“That’s not…” She rolled her eyes and went to her locker.

“She didn’t say no,” Jasper told him.

“Yeah.”

Henry got himself some melatonin, a lavender candle, chamomile tea and downloaded some sleep sounds on his phone. After dinner and a shower, he was already plenty tired from the few nights of interrupted sleep and patrolling Swellview with Captain Man. He climbed into bed, with the sounds of a brook, the scent of his candle, a belly full with the taste of chamomile on his lips and honestly, the only thing that would be more perfect would be if Charlotte was cuddled up with him. He started thinking about what if she spent a night one night? How far would things go? Would they…? He smiled. Probably, some day.

She sent him his good night text: Really hope you get some sleep tonight, Hen. I’m rooting for you to have some rest. You should know, Jasper was right. I’m not interested in any guy who ever tries to talk to me. I’m interested in the one that I have. Sweet dreams. Good night.

He replied: Already sleepy. Thanks for the advice. You’re the best. Love you, Char.

And he fell asleep and slept through the night. By the time he woke up, he couldn’t even remember whether or not he’d had a dream. But, he had a few texts. He figured his good morning ones. He smiled and opened them.

*Blushing emoji* Love you too, Hen.

… Did you mean that like “love ya” Love you, or like “I love you.” Love you.

Either way, I love you.

Too.

Or, just I love you. Depending on what you meant.

You know what? Forget it! Good night. Love you. Nevermind.

Hey, Good Morning. Sorry about last night’s text rants. I’m gonna head to school by myself. Sorry again. Have a good day.

“Whoa. Whoa, whoa, whoa..” He dialed her number Pretty Cute & Hot blinked on the screen as it rang.

“Hello?”

“Hey. Don’t apologize.”

“That was really uncool how I suddenly made things really weird like that, though.”

“It was actually adorable, and I wanna see you today. So, please don’t walk to school by yourself?”

“Okay. How did you sleep?”

“Good.”

Charlotte got to Henry’s place before Jasper did. She didn’t feel like waiting on him and she wanted to get whatever might happen this morning with her and Henry out of the way. Whenever she got there, though, Henry was outside waiting for her. “Hey,” she said. He turned around, super excited to see her and had some flowers in his hand that it looked like he went and picked himself this morning or something.

“Hey!” He said. He extended them to her. “I picked these for you, because I didn’t have time to do something else.”

She kindly accepted them and he grabbed her into an embrace, complete with a kiss and told her, “I love you too, Char.” She just smiled against his lips, holding her wildflower bouquet in one hand and leaning against him.

“So, did you two do the whole more making out thing?” Jasper said as he walked up.

They both ignored the question and the three headed for school.

#So I Had a Dream #So About Those Dreams #chenry #henry danger #hd fanfic

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ariadnelives · 5 years ago

Text

Chapter 28 -- The Line in the Sand

[Missed earlier chapters? Go catch up here! Otherwise, welcome back! Oh, and make sure to join our discord server! Chapter can also be found @ ao3”]

“This is weird,” Ariadne said, holding up a finger to gauge the direction of the wind in the vast, red Martian desert.

“You’re telling me,” Sweettalk said, “The atmosphere on Mars shouldn’t be thick enough for there to be a gentle breeze like this.”

“Okay, nerd, I meant that we’re standing on the surface without spacesuits.” Ariadne rolled her eyes, a fact that was only apparent due to the small purple light she’d recently installed in her goggles to indicate the direction her eyes were pointing. She had made this modification partially because her sarcasm was often lost on those she was speaking to, but mostly because it looks cool.

“You thinking you’re in a position to call anyone a nerd is hilarious,” Sweettalk replied. “Does everyone know their part?”

Ariadne and the girl dressed in all black standing next to her, formerly known as ViLaz, nodded affirmatively.

“Good, because he could be here any minute.”

“He could be here right now,” Ariadne muttered, “last time he took the form of a disembodied voice, he has complete authority here.”

“Well,” Sweettalk scratched the back of her head, “not complete authority.”

Ariadne smiled, but nudged her in the ribs to indicate that she should shut up and not blow the con.

They waited a few moments in silence before Ariadne finally called to the sky “GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE, CABRÓN!”

“I’ll thank you not to speak to me that way,” Dr. Simon materialized behind them, causing all three of them to jump as though they were housecats and a person, who they did not realize was in the room, moved their foot slightly.

“Glad you could make it,” Ariadne said.

“Don’t lie to the man,” Sweettalk replied. “Mr. Simon—”

“—Doctor Simon,” he corrected.

“Whatever Simon,” Sweettalk continued, “I have come to represent my client in this transaction. You should be advised that she is no longer using the name ViLaz. I am informing you of this in the interest of full disclosure and fairness, as our negotiations here, once agreed to, will be coded into the system and will be binding to both of us.”

“This is ridiculous, I will do no such—”

“Mr. Simon, I would advise you that it is in your own interest to make this concession. I have been advised that code written in this way can be very specific, and if you refer to my client as ViLaz, you could be forced to give us what we want without getting what you want. Is that clear?”

Dr. Simon grunted. “Fine. What should I call her?”

“We did some deliberating about that, it was a little complex since you decided to make three of her, but for nerdy reasons, this iteration has agreed to be called Kay. Now, before we go any further,” Sweettalk said, dragging the point of her toe across the sand in front of them, creating a clear line, “this is a threshold that you will not cross for the duration of the negotiations. We know how to strip you of your authority without killing anyone. If you violate this boundary before we approve the transaction, you give my associate Ariadne permission to take you out. Is that clear?”

Dr. Simon chuckled, clearly not believing that they had any such power. “Whatever.”

He didn’t notice Ariadne smirk.

“We want a guarantee of my client’s safety after the transaction,” Sweettalk explained calmly. “A guarantee that no one will have the authority to delete or alter her consciousness and memories after the change is made. We would like the same guarantee to be made of the other people stored on this drive.”

Dr. Simon chuckled again, somewhat derisively. “Those people are already dead, child.”

“Their bodies are, but we have a skilled cyberneticist on our staff, not to mention one hell of a doctor. Given time and resources, with the data we’ve collected in our treatment of one of your ‘daughters,’ we can construct them new bodies.”

“If you were really capable of that, you could do it for me,” Dr. Simon suggested, “and then you wouldn’t have to put young V— I’m sorry, Kay— in my place.”

“We considered that,” Sweettalk responded with as much confidence as she could muster given that she absolutely had not considered that, “we felt you would be unable to trust us in a body that our captain could simply hack and remotely shut down. We are negotiating this transaction instead as an act of good faith.”

“You’re right,” Dr. Simon said, “had you offered, I would not have accepted.”

“So, now that we’re on the same page,” Sweettalk said, “I’m going to tell you what’s going to happen.”

There were several seconds of silence, that Sweettalk milked until she was sure he was about to speak, at which point she gestured to a small marble pedestal behind her, which definitely was not there a moment before, on top of which was a metal lock box with two locks on the front.

“My client will turn her key, and you will turn yours.”

Kay turned the key in the box, and Dr. Simon nodded and stepped towards the box.

Ariadne grinned.

***

“Breaking the antenna isn’t the problem,” Pilar explained, “I mean, it is and it isn’t.”

“First explain how it isn’t,” Sasha replied hurriedly, “then explain how it is.”

“It isn’t because the real problem is that as soon as we do, every armed guard in this place is going to storm the room guns-blazing and I’m not sure even I’m up to that challenge,” Pilar said, prying a panel off the antenna and tossing it onto the bodies of the technicians who had, up until recently, manned this transmitter, “and it is because of, well, this—”

“You have got to be kidding me,” Sasha said, sighing exasperatedly, “How many cartoons did this guy watch as a kid?”

A red, old-fashioned countdown clock connected to several tubes and wires blinked 5:00 every few seconds.

“I’m willing to bet he set this place up to clean itself out of evidence if he ever had to beam away,” Pilar explained, “if he left the antenna behind, someone could use it to locate where he’d been beamed to, so these vents around the ceiling? They probably spew out antimatter or hot plasma when the timer’s up.”

“Five minutes?” Sasha asked.

“I’m guessing that’s how long it takes to be sure he’s beamed away,” Pilar replied.

“Yeah, he probably wouldn’t want to risk a partial transfer of, well, basically his soul.”

“Now, look at all those wires— they’re attached to each part of the transmitter that’s absolutely necessary to its operation. Smart money says it starts counting if any of those things isn’t working, the countdown starts. Whoever built this thing probably figured it would be manned around the clock and the technicians would fix any run-of-the-mill errors within five minutes, and that anyone trying to sabotage it wouldn’t bother to check for a big countdown clock and would get killed by the failsafe. We got lucky because right now, all the guards in this place are trying to fend off an invasion by pirates.”

“Good thing we watched a lot of cartoons too,” Sasha noted.

“It’s gonna take a few minutes to break this thing beyond repair anyway,” Pilar noted, unslinging a rifle from her shoulder, “Maybe you get to smashing and I’ll watch your six, pick off any goons who try to kill us.”

“I mean… there’s an easier way.” Sasha offered. “You just said that this room is set up with a failsafe that’ll destroy this whole thing. Gimme one of your knives and I’ll slash all the wires, then we both run like hell and let this monument to bad design take care of itself.”

Pilar was silent for a moment. “¡Eres brillante!”

She unsheathed a knife from her hip and handed it to Sasha, who replied “¡Lo sé!”

***

“So,” Sweettalk said after Dr. Simon had taken several steps towards the pedestal, “here’s what’s really going to happen. You get nothing. You lose.”

“What are you talking about?” Simon replied.

“Kay! You know what to do!”

It was at this point that the girl standing by Ariadne spoke up, in a voice that seemed to echo itself. “Your administrator permissions have been revoked, father.”

Dr. Simon chuckled. “You don’t have the authority to do that.”

“How do you figure?” Sweettalk asked.

“That’s why I made three vessels. The system registers anyone with sufficiently identical memories as a single person, so I made sure they had nearly identical memories.”

“So,” Sweettalk speculated, “You suppose that each clone is only one-third as powerful as yourself in this place.”

Dr. Simon nodded and continued walking towards the box.

“Enough that if any one of them agreed with you, it would provide you with the necessary majority share to break the stalemate and make changes to the system, like letting the two of you change places …”

“Precisely.”

“Or authorize another administrator,” Ariadne smirked.

Dr. Simon stopped walking. “ …what?”

“Your administrator permissions have been revoked, Mr. Simon,” Ariadne said.

“Says who?” Simon scoffed.

“I said your permissions have been revoked,” Kay insisted.

“Your permissions are revoked!” Ariadne repeated flippantly, “what are you, stupid or something?”

“Haven’t you been listening?” Simon asked, “You would need all three clones to vote in order to make that change, and even then I would be able to override it.”

“That assumes you’re only speaking to one of the clones,” Sweettalk said. “See, out in the real world we’ve been calling them Cyan, Magenta, and Yellow to tell them apart, but when they’re all here together, they register as one person… When they’re all together, we call them Kay.”

“CMYK,” Ariadne laughed, “Our ship’s doctor came up with that one, it’s the nerdiest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.”

“My god, I love her,” Sweettalk whispered.

“So, this girl here has as much authority as you.”

Dr. Simon let out what sounded like a cross between a cough and a growl. “Even so, you need a majority to strip me of my authority. In the presence of a stalemate, no change is made.”

“We have a majority,” Kay announced. “Ariadne is an administrator.”

“That’s the worst bluff I’ve ever heard,” Simon spat, “obviously I won’t approve that, and in a stalemate—”

“It isn’t a stalemate,” Ariadne laughed, “Your ‘daughters’ proposed the change and you voted in its favor.”

“I did no such—”

“‘If you violate this boundary before we approve the transaction, you give my associate Ariadne permission to take you out.’ That’s what I said,” Sweettalk explained, gesturing at the line in the sand just behind Dr. Simon, “and I don’t recall approving the transaction. When you crossed the line, you authorized her to take you out— something only an administrator could do.”

Simon sputtered a bit. “You said that she would turn her key and I would turn mine and—”

Sweettalk interrupted, “—and your ridiculously overfed ego filled in the blanks yourself. I never said the box would finalize the transaction.”

“Sometimes a box is just a box,” Ariadne pointed out, “we never said it was anything else, it’s not our fault you misinterpreted.”

“I voted for Ariadne to be a new admin before you got here,” Kay smiled triumphantly, “and when you crossed that line, you approved her. Then we didn’t need you to get a majority anymore, and we voted you out of power.”

Sweettalk offered Kay a fist-bump, and it took her a moment to figure out what to do with it. “Man, I’m glad Prescott is cat litter now, but for once I’m glad he taught me how to hustle a grade-A chump.”

“So, here’s what’s really going to happen,” Ariadne said, now practically looming over Dr. Simon, looking more and more like a massive spider by the moment, “this is my world now, and you do not have my permission to run or hide.”

“You insolent—”

“I don’t need the monologue from you,” Ariadne snapped, “your turn to talk is over. You know, I haven’t been a person of faith for most of my life, and then I actually met a couple of gods. One of them was cruel, the other uncaring. If there is a proper, capital-G ‘God,’ I’d bet they fuck up a lot based on how much the world sucks, but at least they probably care about what we want. You? You don’t hold a candle to any of them.”

Dr Simon opened his mouth to respond, but Ariadne struck him across the face with the back of her hand to prevent this.

“You’re not even a god. You’re a washed-up nobody who wants to take away people’s free will and have them build shrines to you. If you were a cruel god, you'd die like Weaver, if you were an uncaring god, you’d run away like Upendo, and if you were an incompetent god you'd at least have the decency to care about other people, like whatever incompetent god managed to create someone as wonderful as my wife but then put her through hell for over a decade. But you? You’re not a god at all. You’re a wannabe king, and do you know what happens to kings?”

Dr. Simon attempted to run, but he was quickly subdued by a massive silver monster with what appeared to be a middle-aged human female corpse suspended in its machinery.

“I said you don’t have my permission to run, and while you’re in my world, you answer to my demons.” Ariadne sneered. “Oh, and I wouldn’t bother trying to run for that transmitter, Mr. Simon—”

“Doctor—”

“—Like it matters! In 3-2-1—” Ariadne gestured upwards and the sun above the desert flashed a vibrant red and loud klaxons began to sound, “—I can’t believe I timed that out so well! Anyway, that’ll be my wife smashing your exit strategy to bits. You have no way out.”

Dr. Simon started laughing a mirthless cackle.

“Yeah, laugh it up,” Ariadne said, “you’re stuck here.”

“Was it worth it?” Dr. Simon asked.

Ariadne rolled her eyes. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“My men will tear her to pieces,” Dr. Simon laughed, “and if they don’t get her my failsafe will. You’ve murdered her, my child.”

“Nobody here is your child,” Ariadne replied, “and if anyone could get out of there alive, it’s my girl.”

“We should go,” Sweettalk said, “we don’t want to be here when, uh… Did you explain what happens to kings when the peasants get restless?”

Ariadne laughed, “You know, I don’t think I did! Do you remember all those people whose bodies you stole, Mr. Simon? Well, your majesty, I think your subjects want an audience with you! Toodles!”

The three girls vanished from the desert and Simon fell to his knees in the sand. He heard distant footsteps and suddenly realized, for the first time in his life, he was completely powerless.

***

“Plus, you do a great job with number four…” Sasha’s mildly distorted voice came through the haze.

As the virtual world swirled away and the real world came back into focus, Ariadne watched Sasha burst in through the door with Pilar slung over her shoulder.

“I need your help,” Sasha shouted, “she’s been shot!”

“You always have to prove me wrong!” Ariadne rushed over and immediately took Pilar onto her own shoulder, “you are not allowed to die.”

“You two have been spending too much time together” Pilar sputtered.

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rayewriting · 6 years ago

Text

Violation Pt. 2

Fandom: Batman

Note: So, I did that sequel thing, I was requested by a lovely anon. And I don’t really know any Middle Eastern foods, but wanted to accommodate Damian’s non-lethal culture, so if I am wrong let me know, I don’t want to offend anybody

Tim knew he screwed up, okay? He knew it as soon as he hit send.

Alfred and Jason left for the kitchen after Dick and Damian, leaving Bruce and Tim to talk. Bruce turned to Tim, face and voice grave, “Tim, I understand why you hacked into the network; it was an unidentified and you wanted to make sure it was safe. But what I don’t understand is why you looked through his files, let alone sending some of them to people. That is a major breech of security and trust. You both were getting along too, and that just destroyed everything that you both worked so hard for.”

Bruce made sure to bring the hammer down, a month of no patrolling (barring emergencies), no Titans, no computer access, and he was immediately sent to his room till stated otherwise. He heard Bruce getting up, probably to go to the Batcave or to check on Damian, but Tim wasn’t really processing Bruce’s movement, too busy in his head. When he exited the library, he heard Damian refuse to leave room, and Tim couldn’t wrap his head around that.

He just did not understand Damian’s reaction. Screaming? Of course. Slamming doors? It was a day that ended in ‘y’, was it not? Damian holing himself in his room? Only after a fight or being told off. So why was Damian in his room now? He wasn’t in trouble and he wasn’t yelled at; so, why the theatrics?

After talking to Dick though, Tim understood. Tim’s actions were not acceptable, he had disturbed a place where Damian felt safe, felt like he could be himself.

Damian was acting like Tim was going to throw open his door, take all his stuff and…

Well… that is exactly what Tim did, isn’t it? But instead of doing it to Damian’s physical room, he did it to Damian’s online safe place. The one Dick gave to Damian, the one Dick trusted Damian to use wisely.

And Tim kicked in the door, pried into all of its nooks and crannies, then- to make it worse- Tim took something personal and shared it with everybody.

When he reached his room, he sat on the edge of his bed and let his head rest in his hands.

Two days of strict bedroom only suspension, Bruce walks into Tim’s room with a, “You are allowed to leave your room; but you will not speak to Damian till he is ready for you to,” and leaves for his day at the office. It takes Tim a minute for the words to sink in, then he timidly opens his door and walks into the hall and heads to the kitchen for breakfast.

“Ah, good morning, Master Timothy. Breakfast will be done shortly please take a seat in the dining room. Masters Dick and Damian will be joining momentarily,” Alfred instructs as he finishes prepping the dishes.

Tim freezes at Alfred’s words and asks, “Damian? I thought I wasn’t supposed to see him till he wants to? Does he know that I will be at breakfast?”

Alfred hums as he walks around to a different counter to pick at some dish, “I believe Master Bruce said for you not to speak to him, and Master Dick has told Master Damian about your presence or he would have already been down. Also, meeting in a neutral territory would perhaps ease Master Damian’s nerves.”

Tim nods and hesitantly sits in his chair as Alfred begins to lay out the dishes. Soon Dick and Damian are walking in the room, Damian sitting as far as he could from Tim and Dick sitting in between them. Upon seeing the meal that has been laid out, Damian’s expression brightens as he spots a bowl of Ful Medames, loaf of Za’atar Manouche, feta cheese and olives on a side platter, and Moroccan mint tea, after taking a look at everything Damian turns to Alfred and says, “Thank you for the meal, Pennyworth. It looks marvelous.”

Dick smiling at the boy asks, “What is all this? I don’t think I have eaten this before.”

Alfred opened his mouth to answer Dick’s question, but Damian cut him off, sounding slightly excited, “This is a Middle-Eastern breakfast. The bowl is Ful Medames which is an Egyptian dish, it has boiled fava beans, chopped tomatoes, green onions, lemon juice, and garlic with some other spices, it’s texture is between soup and dip.” The teen points to the bread, “The Za’artar Manouche is a Levantine bread that Pennyworth as topped with a series of spice which is called Za’artar. The bread can be served with an array of toppings and/or dips.” Finally, pointing at the tea, he says, “If what I think is true, then this is Moroccan mint tea, usually served as a social tea, mainly sold at cafes.” After his explanation, Damian looks at his lap and whispers out, “I can’t remember the last time I had something like this.”

Tim, who has been staring at the food the whole time, can feel his heart reach out for the kid.

Because that was what Damian was. A kid. A traumatized child. A traumatized child that Tim had hurt in a similar way that his mother did.

And if that didn’t make Tim hate himself even more, nothing could. But he did hate himself more.

That meal left Tim in silence as Damian, Dick, and Alfred told eachother their plans for the day. Damian and Dick were going to give Batcow a wash, and Alfred was restocking all the medical supplies in the Cave.

When Tim was done, food tasting like ash in his mouth, his dishes left with Alfred, he heads towards to the in-home gym and pounds in a punching bag so hard his knuckles bruise, he runs on the treadmill so long his legs are cramping with overuse, and he does as many crunches as he can before his body gives out and can’t move anymore.

As he stares at the ceiling from his place on the ground, Tim thinks about how Damian sounded like Tim did as his first few months of being Robin. How scary it was, how he thought that he was unwanted. Then he turns on his side despite his protesting muscles and cries; cries for his little brother’s traumas, the ones that leaves scars all up and down his body, the ones Tim never paid attention to- he never wanted to.

He cries for the child that Damian never has been and never could be.

He cries for the child that Damian yearns to be.

After a couple more days of Damian and Tim dancing around eachother, Dick has to head back to Bludhaven and thus left Damian and Tim with no buffer. Damian becomes more confident as Tim doesn’t try to enter his hallway. Tim becomes very careful treading in the Manor, not scared- just cautious- not wanting to upset Damian.

After lunch two weeks after what Tim dubs “The Incident” Damian walks over to Tim and just stares at him, and Tim—Tim doesn’t know what to do. Does he smile? Wave? Sneak out?

But before Tim can make a decision, Damian makes one for him as the young teen asks timidly, “…Why?”

Tim’s shoulders sag as the question rings in the dining room for a minute, then he carefully looks Damian in the eyes and begins to explain, “When I first looked at the layout of the computer network, I recognized it similar to the League’s and was worried we were compromised. Then I went to Jason—”

Quickly, Damian cuts him off and asks, “Why did you not come to me? I have had more training with the League than Todd has.”

Frustrated, Tim sighs, collecting his thoughts then brings up, “I didn’t know where you were, and when Jason is here, he is either in the kitchen or library. Plus, we have been getting along recently, I-I didn’t want to jeopardize that.”

Damian gives Tim a incredulous look and points out, “You didn’t want to bother me, yet not ten minutes later you send my personal playlists to everyone? You are as stupid as I thought Drake.”

Tim bristles at the insults but stops himself from lashing out- figuring that, yeah, it does sound stupid, the Demon has a point- and continues without acknowledging the remark, “When I finally hacked into your system, I didn’t know it was yours. It wasn’t till I found those playlists that it occurred to me that it was a personal computer network, and when I recognized it as yours, I just…” Tim trails off, trying to remember what crossed his mind to lead to hit send, “I just thought it would be poetic justice, for all the times you hacked into my stuff. I thought it would be some harmless revenge.”

Damian huffs and says, “I haven’t hacked into your things in two years, barring emergencies.”

“I know, it was petty of me and I should have been a better person. I’m sorry.”

“TT,” Damian tuts out dismissively, and it grinds Tim’s thinking to a halt.

Tim takes a good, long look at Damian and sees the tension in his shoulders, the distrust in his eyes, and the slight tremble of his hands that are crossed across the teen’s chest- the signs point to Damian feeling nervous and scared- and that throws Tim for a loop. Damian being scared of Tim was the last thing he wanted. Because that means Tim is becoming like his parents; uncaring, neglectful, and someone that someone needs to be afraid of.

And that startles him so much, he feels his heart stop.

Then Tim drops to his knees and grasps Damian’s hands and begins to says what his heart has been aching to say after Dick’s explanation, “Damian, I am so sorry for invading a place where you felt safe. It was so wrong of me. And I made you feel unsafe in your own house, and I never wanted that, because I know how that feels and it is not okay to feel that way in a place where you should feel at peace,” Tim can see the tears the are forming in Damian’s eyes; but, continues anyway, “If I ever, ever, make you feel that way, I need you to tell me or show me so I can adjust my actions and words accordingly, okay?”

Damian nods, looks away for a few minutes, then with a slight quiver in this voice says, “I understand, Drake. Thank you. I forgive you for your past transgressions.” Tim nods and begins to stand when Damian latches onto his hands then speaks, “But you need to tell me as well, and I will accommodate your boundaries too.”

Tim smiles, then asks, “Can I bother you for a hug, Damian? I think Dick would be proud of us.”

With pink cheeks, Damian opens his arms, accepting Tim’s affection, with a smile hinting on his lips as Tim carefully wraps his arms around the teen’s shoulders.

“I believe he would be, Drake.”

#Damian Wayne #Tim Drake #Sequel #I did it!#RayeWriting #Let me know what you lovelies think

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unwelcome-ozian · 6 years ago

Note

Hello, I was wanting your opinion and thoughts on Katie Goves and their system from YouTube. Mostly if you would consider them to be a trustworthy and or reliable source? They talk about being an MK victim, my concern there lies mostly in their age in relation to that. I remove they said they're only 20, didn't the "program" with MK end before they where even born? Not trying to call anyone out or anything like that, just want to check validity and such. Thanks in advance!

I typically don’t share my opinion on what other survivor’s stories or experiences. I will if I see some issues with what they are sharing and other ‘red flags.’ Full disclosure; I did not watch her full videos, I watched a few minuets of a few of them until I felt confident enough to form an opinion. I read what she wrote and will pull from these.

Sorry the post is so long.

Katy Groves

Published on Jun 5, 2018

In this video, I pour my heart out about the child sexual abuse and snuff images of myself (alone and alongside others) that I had the horrific burden and privilege of seeing during my deprogramming process. I talk about my experience with taking them to law enforcement and my ultimate “decision” to throw the pictures away.

The concerns I have with this portion of what she has said, 'snuff images of myself’. Snuff is a pornographic movie of an actual murder. She could not see herself being 'snuffed’ she would be dead.She said she threw the pictures away. I find this interesting as she disposed of proof that could rip through anyone’s shred of doubt, help other survivors, help those who remain trapped, and so much more. Why then why even go to the police?

A couple of edits: when I said the pictures implied sexual abuse but were illegal, I misspoke. I meant to say that they were legal instead; and when I said there was a Christmas tree in the photograph and then said I didn’t think it was “Christmas time,” I should clarify what I meant. I meant that I didn’t think it was the time of the Christmas season in which I would have likely been opening presents, not that it wasn’t the Christmas season itself.

How can pictures that imply sexual abuse be legal? The child/children would have to be over the age of 18. If the pictures were snuff and child sexual abuse they wouldn’t be legal. That is where her testimony/report would establish the “legality” of the pictures.

When I reported these crimes in Dec. 2016, I was interviewed by two officers, one male, one female. Partway through the interview, I handed the child snuff to the male officer, who stared at it blankly and then immediately handed it back to me. I asked him if he saw what was in the picture and he said “no.” He appeared very dissociated and triggered, may have had a trauma history of his own, so I left him alone and instead handed the picture to the female officer, who was able to process its graphic content enough to interview me about it in depth.

I’m confused. Katy hands the snuff picture to the male officer first. Survivors of abuse, female survivors of abuse who have a picture of other children being abused as well as them-self (perhaps) would not give them to the male officer first.The officer would not have handed the picture back to her but would have given it to the female officer to look at. Second, the pictures would not have been returned to her.

He then took the photograph into another room and returned it to me, stating that he had made a photocopy. I was told that my case would be transferred to my home state and was escorted out of the premises. Within an hour, I was notified that the male officer had called mental health authorities regarding my case and two things became clear: 1. Were I to pursue this case further, it was more likely that I would end up incarcerated in a psychiatric hospital than my perpetrators would ever do prison time and 2. Were I to keep the incriminating images of my exploitation as a child, there was a chance that I would face criminal charges and incarceration for possessing them.

A photo copy wouldn’t have been made, they would have kept the original. (a lawyer would have a field day with a photo copy) They would have kept it as evidence if they were going to charge her for being in possession of child pornography.

Someone doesn’t get 'incarcerated in a psychiatric hospital.“ There have to be very valid reasons for a court to hospitalize someone. A threat of harm to themselves or a threat of harm to another person. The mental health act of 2001 established the protocol for involuntary psychiatric hospitalizations. They can’t keep someone until the end of time anymore.

As I was homeless and had no one whom I was willing to put at risk by entrusting with the photographs, I made the extremely painful decision to discard them. I decided that rather than pursue what felt like a futile legal battle in a corrupt "justice” system that was more likely to result in my incarceration than my perpetrators’, I would focus on healing myself and helping survivors of ritual abuse and human trafficking in other ways.

I am blessed to say that within a year of making this decision, I was able to create this channel. This way, I am able to devote my time directly to survivors without having to jump through the legal system’s hoops and suffer the hideous retraumatization that so typically accompanies the pursuit of this kind of case. The legal system in the United States is not built for survivors of ritual abuse, but for those who perpetrate it.

I agree with her when she says: “the legal system in the United States is not built for survivors of ritual abuse.” The Satanic panic lead to this. But, there are cases where ritual abuse is prosecuted successfully. For survivors of any form of abuse the legal system is a nightmare.

What doesn’t add up is she is now on you tube with a large number of videos talking about the abuse. Which can be more traumatizing than court. Here are some reasons why: Everyone can see her and who she is, in the future anyone can google her name and find out about her past (5 years from now, ten…more), I’m not sure if she has considered that, it opens her up for even more scrutiny than going to court would have. Putting videos on you tube, running a blog, anything on social media opens you up for criticism and the magnifying glass of the public.

For example she posted this: Hi everyone, in this video, Kayvon opens up about our struggles with a delusional subscriber who is obsessed with us and has been sending us highly triggering emails on a near daily basis for the last two monthsKaty Groves 4 tuần trước (đã chỉnh sửa)I’m deleting all comments that tell me what to do and/or violate other boundaries I have directly set in comments that I think you have seen. At the end of this video, I told y'all explicitly not to tell me what to do, but it seems like some of you didn’t watch it, don’t care or can’t set limits with your own codependence, so I’m going to do it for you.

It has to be apart of what you’re willing to take on if you chose to use such a public platform. So, saying going to court would be 'hideous and retraumatization’ is interesting to me when I saw the her posts.

Nov, 14, 2017Hi there, we are a 21 year old survivor of Project Monarch, CIA child trafficking and Satanic ritual abuse with Polyfragmented DID. At the time that this video was recorded, we had been deprogramming ourselves with success for over 3.5 years.

I watched this video and listened to her (Deprogramming pt 6-Deprogramming My Inner Child) First someone can’t de-program themselves. If she were programmed there are safety measures in place to prevent this. She say’s she’s 21 and has been working since she was 17.5 to deprogram. That is too short of a time frame. From how she is talking in the video, the terminology (inner child) (higher self/ inner loving parent) she sounds like she is at a facility/program that has used these phrases or was at a facility. Someone pointed out that her videos sound scripted, they do. She may not be reading a script proper but has been coached or practiced in some form. Something is very off.

August 11th ’18Dissociated parts of my system collaborated extensively with one another inside in order to outline how best to present our story to the general public in under ten minutes, but a lot of it was unplanned and we never wrote anything down. If it looks like I am reading from a script, it is because I am accessing a partially formed eidetic script, so to speak, of things my system and I agreed to say.Eidetic memory and other such abnormal abilities are common for survivors of MK and something we have experienced since we were very small.

Here is the issue with this statement. If she were programmed she would not have access to a majority of memories or alters who hold these memories. Eidetic memory occurs outside the system and in programming only one or two alters will hold this skill. You don’t want a whole system with this form of memory.

May 9, 2018I will say that I focus mostly on my traumas with my narcissistic, sexually abusive mother – who programmed me in MK. I do not talk about the “worst of it” but mention infantile sexual abuse, child trafficking and other forms of abuse and exploitation in some detail.

If you have ever struggled with eating disorders, especially anorexia, please watch this video with extra caution as this could be particularly triggering for you.

Her mother couldn’t have programmed her 'in MK’. MK programming takes a lot of time, knowledge, medical setting, psychotropics, and a team to complete.

She isn’t a survivor of MK programming. She’s too young. Programming can’t be broken when someone is 17.5 years old. So, the question is, what happened to her?

As I was watching the videos Ozzie pointed out, “She’s acting like 11 from Stranger Things."

Over all she is too robotic in the video’s I watched, she’s too young to have been a survivor of MK-Ultra, too young to have escaped and ‘deprogrammed’ herself, too young to have survived the type of torture it takes to program someone and have access to those parts in the system and have them willing to share their memories, to be a survivor of pornography and have alters who would agree to have parts of their story shared on camera or be on camera themselves, she shows her face you can’t 'deprogram’ yourself from MK-ultra, the phrases she uses sound to scripted, a programmed system doesn’t learn to communicate on that level in 3.5 years, (trauma survivors can tell you 3.5 years of living with D.I.D and working hard doesn’t look like this) someone can’t work on healing their trauma day in and day out as Katy says she did, this would lead to more issues and all kinds of problems with programming and system stress. And lastly, Katy stated she was homeless for a while before she started posting her videos about a year ago.

Those are some of my thoughts from what I’ve read and watched

#Katy Groves #answers to questions

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kimtaehyungrykim · 7 years ago

Text

Doctor I Need You: Chapter 6

a/n: I know it’s been a while since I’ve last updated, I sincerely apologize for that. School has really been holding me back on updating and it didn’t help that I had writers’ block. But I finally finished Chapter 6! YAY! And this chapter is a little longer than the older chapters so enjoy!

Chapter Summary: Son Soojin’s execution date is in 2 days, but she’s refusing to have surgery and might as well die “on Taeyong’s watch”. Jisoo and Xiumin have a 10 year old patient that needs a new liver and intestine. What choices will the doctors make when the 10 year old boy down the hall is dying and the only organs that match are those of a murderer who wants out of her execution?

Prologue / Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / to be determined

Warnings: *Taeyong’s backstory is very dark*, mentions of murder, surgery

Rating: M

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Romance

Characters and their roles:

Attendings:

You (Head of Cardiothoracic Surgery)

Dr. Kim Jisoo (Head of General Surgery)

Dr. Kim Seokjin (Jin) (Attending Anesthesiologist)

Dr. Lee Taeyong (Head of Trauma Surgery)

Dr. Kim Taeyeon (Head of Neurosurgery)

Dr. Kim Xiumin (Head of Pediatric surgery)

Dr. Park Leeteuk (Chief of Surgery)

Residents:

Dr. Jeon Wonwoo (5th year Surgical Resident)

Dr. Nakamoto Yuta (5th year Surgical Resident)

Dr. Park Rosé (5th year Surgical Resident)

Dr. Park Joy (5th year Surgical Resident)

Dr. Kim Mingyu (5th year Surgical Resident)

Songs to play while reading, I’ll point out where:

Dream - BolBBalgan4

The Funeral - Band of Horses

Lost Stars - BTS Jungkook (cover)

I Love You - BTS Jin (cover)

“Compassion is an action word with no boundaries” - Prince

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

(Play Dream)

Taeyong got a page at 3:30 in the morning, he rushed down to the hospital and ran to Soojin’s room.

“Aw man, I told them not to call you here,” Soojin groaned, “Whatever it is could’ve waited till morning, Dr. Taeyong needs his beauty sleep doesn’t he?”

Taeyong ignored her, “Your head CT’s show that your brain contusions are expanding. I need to get you in the OR right away.”

“This brain thing, could it kill me?”

“If we don’t treat it, yes.”

Soojin bursted out in laughter.

“You think that’s funny?” Taeyong scoffed.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that they’re gonna execute me in 2 days. Might as well take my chances with the brain thing am I right?” Soojin smirked, “I mean, it’s a nice way to go. With a nice attractive doctor next to me, all the jello I want-”

“Are you refusing surgery?” Taeyong cut her off.

“Either way, I’m going to die. Might as well do it on your watch.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jisoo stood outside her patient’s room waiting for Dr. Xiumin.

“I’m here! I’m here! What’s wrong?” Dr Xiumin ran up to her.

“Woojin’s B.P, it’s a little down from yesterday. If we make a few calls, get a little pushy, maybe could we get him bumped a few spots up the transplant list-”

“Dr. Jisoo, you paged me 9-1-1 at 3:30 in the morning to what? To chat?” Xiumin scoffed.

“You like to chat, you’re chatty-”

“Not at 3:30 in the morning! Look, he’s only 10, he’s very close to the top of the list, we’ll find him his organs when we find him his organs but staying up all night chatting about this will not help,” Xiumin started walking away, “I’m gonna go back to sleep, I suggest you do the same.”

Jisoo stopped him, “He’s running out of time!”

“They always are, welcome to pediatrics.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were going over Soojins charts when Taeyong spotted you, the two of you walked into Soojin’s room.

“The swelling in your brain is increasing rapidly, the longer we wait the worse it gets,” Taeyong informed her.

She smiled, “Excellent. Go team.”

“I strongly suggest you reconsider surgery.”

“Have you ever seen the inside of a maximum security prison?”

Taeyong shook his head.

“Believe me, if you had to die, this is the place to do it.”

Taeyong turned to you, “Vigilantly monitor Ms. Soojin’s elevating I.C.P.s, hourly neuro exams, when she goes unconscious which she will, we’ll rush her to surgery-”

“You can’t do that,” Soojin interrupted, “Can he do that?”

“When you’re unconscious and can’t make sound medical decisions, a 2-doctor consent is all we need to treat you”

“My god!” Soojin groaned, “I’m gonna be dead as a doornail in 2 days, Dr. Y/n you’re a reasonable-”

“We’re done here!” Taeyong cut her off.

“Do you fix your broken television before you throw it out?” Soojin called out.

“She’s got a point,” You said.

Taeyong left the room.

You started wheeling Soojin out of the room for her neuro exam.

There was a long silence between you two before she spoke, “You’re upset.”

“I don’t get upset with patients.”

“You’re mad at me for killing all those people, I get that,” Soojin sighed, “Would it help if you knew I was abused as a kid? Every day, it’s how I learned to read. I used to hide under the sink and sound out the letters in the detergent bottles.”

“Is that true?”

“Did it make you feel better?”

Jisoo was wheeling her patient Woojin to the elevator as well, his eyes lit up when he saw the handcuffs attached to Soojin.

“Cool!” He exclaimed, “Did you do something bad?”

Soojin smirked at the kid, “Traffic violation.”

You gestured Jisoo to take the elevator first.

“What’s wrong with you kid?” Soojin asked.

“I need a new liver and intestine.”

“Really? You want mine?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jisoo spotted Xiumin in the attending’s lounge where he was having his lunch. She walked over and slammed a piece of paper in front of him.

“What the-”

“I’ve made a list of the best pediatric G.I.’s in the country. If we can get one of these guys to come down and do a TIPS procedure on Woojin.”

“A TIPS procedure on a kid that needs a new liver?” Xiumin scoffed, “That’s like putting a bandaid on a bullet wound.”

“Do you have a better idea?”

“Waiting for that call, trust the process. Why can’t you do that-”

“Because!” Jisoo snapped, “I’m tired. I’m so damn tired of waiting for that call when this kid is getting worse! Woojin’s tired, his mother’s tired, the only person who’s happy to sit on his ass and twiddle his thumbs and wait is you!”

“Whoa. I’ve been patient with you. But you know what, I am really over you constantly telling me how I should do my job-”

Wonwoo knocked on the door.

“Someone has to!”

“Hey,” Wonwoo said.

Xiumin scoffed, “I have 20 other kids in this hospital!”

“Hey,” Wonwoo repeated.

“I’m concerned about this one child-”

“SHUT UP!” Wonwoo shouted, “Respectfully. Respectfully shut up. Because we’ve got organs.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Play The Funeral)

Wonwoo and Xiumin left to pick picked up the organs.

“I wished you could get organs delivered or something, I hate flying,” Xiumin complained, “I feel a lot closer to death flying than in the O.R. don’t you?”

“I do now.”

“So, Taeyong and Y/n. I never thought they’d even make eye contact let alone get together. But hey, that’s like movie love isn’t it? If they do get together, that’s gonna be one hell of a story, right?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well we’re at that age right? Crushes, dating, marriage, babies, that’s the plan right?”

“I don’t know!” Wonwoo snapped, “I’m sorry. I don’t make plans okay? If there’s a future there great, if not, whatever.”

“I heard that there’s this heat between Jisoo and Jin. I don’t know both of them very well but I think that it would be interesting to see more of them-”

“What is wrong with you?” Wonwoo blurted out.

“What?”

“We just took a liver and an intestine from a little kid- A dead little kid- and you don’t even care. You’re talking about rainbows and relationships and gossiping and crap. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“You don’t think I know that they just pulled the plug on a kid? Do you not think that I get that? You don’t think I know about the tiny, tiny coffin they’re gonna stick them in? I know about the tiny coffins. I see them everywhere, in my sleep. So, if you don’t mind, I’m gonna continue talking rainbows and relationships and gossiping and crap. And I’m gonna make plans for tomorrow, because that’s what you do Wonwoo. Make plans. Turn your back on the tiny coffins and face forward...to the next kid.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You went to check up on Soojin. As always, there was that long moment of silence between the two of you as the sounds of the monitor beeps filled the air. Soojin spoke first.

“Did you know they let you choose?” Soojin asked, “Hanging, or lethal, you get to pick your poison. Which one would you choose? Medically speaking, which one’s...better?”

The sounds of the monitor hums filled the silence, you grabbed all the charts and headed towards the door. You stopped and turned around.

“With hanging, your neck breaks, which severs your spinal cord and causes your blood pressure to drop to nothing and lose consciousness. You don’t actually die until after several minutes. With lethal injection, they inject an anesthetic and put you to sleep. Then a paralytic which stops your diaphragm and lungs, then potassium, which stops your heart.”

Soojin nodded, “Was, um...was I a match for the boy?”

“Yes.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Xiumin and Wonwoo returned to the hospital and were in the O.R. finishing the surgery on Woojin. Joy sat up in the gallery looking over the whole thing, bummed out that all she can do today is watch over surgeries.

Joy sat there crossed armed, she looked at the monitor filming the surgery when she saw something odd. Joy stood up from her chair and looked at the screen a little closer.

“Oh shit,” Joy whispered, she pressed on the intercom but it wasn’t working, “No no no no!”

She bolted out of the gallery and into the O.R., Jisoo and Xiumin were about finished when Joy came running in.

“Wait! There’s a spot on the duodenum!”

Xiumin and Jisoo’s eyes averted back to the patient on the table.

Jisoo spotted it too, “What the hell is that?”

Jisoo and Xiumin were in a state of panic.

“He’s clotting and clotting and clotting!” Jisoo yelled out in frustration.

“Is there a source?” Xiumin asked.

“This can’t be happening,” Jisoo muttered under her breath, “This cannot be happening, not to this little boy. This is not happening. This is not happening.”

“These organs are dead Dr. Jisoo,” Xiumin said the words no one wanted to hear, “Keeping them in him is making him sicker. This is doing more harm than good.”

“NO! I can just-”

“He’ll die if you leave them in-”

“He’ll die if I take them out!”

Joy raised her hand, “Maybe you guys could try a Portacaval Shunt. It’ll keep the circulation going and bypass the liver.”

Jisoo shook her head, “That’s just a temporary fix.”

“Anybody got any better ideas?” Xiumin asked.

Everyone shook their heads.

“Then I don’t see what choice we have, Dr. Jisoo.”

“How much time do we have to find him new organs?” Wonwoo asked.

“24 hours,” Jisoo replied.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A code came from Son Soojin’s room, you ran as fast as you could.

“I don’t feel so good,” Soojin cried.

“I.C.P is critical, we can’t wait anymore we need to get her down to the OR-”

“NO!”

“We need to get you down to surgery,” You said.

“I’m not scared to die. I just don’t want to do it strapped down to a table like an animal,” Soojin begged, “Please, please, please, Dr. Y/n. Let me go.”

Taeyong and Taeyeon ran into the room.

“Push the paralytics! Start bagging her, intubate and get her into the OR. I need another doctor signature on the form,” Taeyong handed you the papers, “Here sign. Sign the form.”

But you couldn’t, you stood there, frozen.

“Y/n, sign the form.”

You stared at the papers but your hands wouldn’t move.

“Y/N! SIGN THE FUCKING FORM!”

Taeyeon grabbed the pen and signed it for you.

“Don’t scrub in,” Taeyong told you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You two are on Woojin all day today,” Jisoo ordered Wonwoo and Joy, “He has no liver or intestine, that means toxins are building up and his brain is gonna swell. We can’t stop it but we’re gonna try like hell to slow it down.”

Joy’s eyelids were fluttering up and down, she hadn’t had much sleep the past few days.

“Joy I need a nod or a yawn or even a burp, something that lets me know that you’re awake and capable of taking care of this child.”

“Yes, sorry, I’m all yours.”

Xiumin walked up to Jisoo.

“Jisoo, how much time do we have left?”

“16 hours at most.”

Wonwoo spoke up, “There’s a liver dialysis machine downstairs, G.I.’s using it for a clinical trial.”

“That may give Woojin a few more hours...maybe,” Xiumin shook his head and left

“Alright then, Joy, put in the I.C.P. monitor and start tracking his intracranial pressures. Wonwoo, get the machine,” Jisoo ordered.

“What is it’s already hooked up to somebody?”

“If that somebody has more than 16 hours to live then we can unhook them,” Joy said.

“I want off this case,” Jisoo said under her breath.

“Dr. Jisoo?” Wonwoo was concerned.

“I want off this case. I want off of- this little boy is gonna die and I don’t want to be there to see it. I don’t want to- I cannot see this. I want off. I want off.”

“Dr. Jisoo, when was the last time you slept?”

Jisoo took a deep breath and shook her head, “No, no, no. I’m okay, really.”

“I think you need 1 or 2 hours of rest.”

“I’m fine. I’m good. Just go get the machine.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Son Soojin had just gotten out of surgery, Taeyong started doing post-op checkups.

“How are you feeling Ms. Soojin?” Taeyong asked.

“Why didn’t you just let me go?”

“You’re not dying here.”

“What are you so scared of Dr. Taeyong?”

Taeyong ignored her, “I.C.P’s are stable, continue neuro exams-”

“Or maybe you know deep down, you’re no better than I am,” Soojin said, “You decide who lives and who dies all the time. For you they call it medicine, not a capital offense.”

“You know what? I don’t get to choose,” Taeyong snapped, “Not me, not you, and certainly not the 7 people you slaughtered. So if I say you’re not gonna die in this hospital, then there is no way in hell I will let you die in this hospital. I am nothing like you.”

He slammed the door behind him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Xiumin paged Wonwoo, he was waiting for him in the hallway.

“Hey, Dr. Xiumin, you paged me-”

“I need you to talk to the nurses,” Xiumin whispered, “Find out if any of their patients on life support are O-positive or brain dead, then crossmatch those folks against Woojin. The kid’s running out of time.”

“Okay.”

“And Wonwoo, be sensitive to their families. We need organs for this boy, but we can only ask. We do not pressure, we do not coerce. Understand?”

“Yes sir.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It’s getting a little harder to breathe,” Soojin gasped.

“You can stop doing this Soojin,” You said.

“I know. I know.”

“Would you like me to page Dr. Taeyong?”

“He’s your boyfriend isn’t he?”

You didn’t answer.

“He is,” She answered for you, “I had a feeling.”

You turned your back to her and continued with the check up.

“The man has very good taste.”

You gathered up the charts and started heading towards the door.

“Right now, all I can think about are lemons.”

You stopped and turned around, “Lemons?” You ask.

“When my mother was dying, she said she smelled lemons. All she could talk about for 3 day were lemons. I keep waiting to smell them but I don’t,” Soojin sighed, “Then again, she was a compulsive liar.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to page Dr. Taeyong?”

“I’m sure.”

You left the room and continued working on the charts from outside, Taeyeon came up to you with her own charts.

“How’s our serial killer?” She asked, “Are you monitoring her?”

“Yeah. I’ve got it covered.”

Taeyeon stopped writing. Both of you made eye contact, she dropped her pen and ran to Soojin’s room.

“I said I’ve got it covered!”

She opened the door and ran to Soojin, she checked her pupil responses.

“Tell me you paged Taeyong.”

“She gonna die in a few days anyways. If she dies here we can donate her organs to the 10 year old who’s gonna die down the hall. And I know Taeyong wouldn’t let me do this. So no, I didn’t page Taeyong and I hope you won’t too. Please just...let me do this.”

Soojin gasped, “Please….help...I don’t want to die….I want...to live.”

Taeyeon shook her head, “Page Dr. Taeyong right now! Code Blue 4th floor!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Xiumin got a page from Wonwoo.

“Talk to me Wonwoo.”

Wonwoo handed him charts and papers. Xiumin started reading them.

“Oh my god,” he said.

“The guy’s not a donor and they’re about to unplug him.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Soojin was stabilized by the three of you. Taeyong was looking over her scans.

“Prep her, I want her in the O.R. in 20 minutes,” He ordered Taeyeon, he turned to you, “You should’ve paged me a long time ago.”

“I was following the patient’s wishes-”

“Patient’s wishes? She doesn’t get wishes. She killed 7 people. She’s been manipulating you ever since she’s got here. She preys on young people.”

“I made a decision as her doctor.”

“It was a bad decision. The wrong decision. You’re gonna scrub in, and you’re gonna try like hell to undo what you did.”

“Why are you so adamant on having her executed?”

Taeyong pulled you out of the room, he pulled you into the elevator and pulled the alarm, stopping it.

“You wanna know why I so pro punishment?”

You nodded.

“When I was 5 years old I watched from under the kitchen counter as some man barged into my house and shot my dad for his watch. I couldn’t go and help him, all I could do is watch. Watch as my dad fell to the ground and the man took and his watch and left. They never caught him. I hope that someday they will, and he will receive the punishment he deserves. But Son Soojin is in here right now, and I hope she gets her punishment for killing those 7 innocent people.”

He pressed the alarm again and the doors opened, he walked out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Play Lost Stars)

“I’m sorry, what do you want?”

Xiumin sighed, “I’m know this is excruciating, but what I want...what I need...are your husband’s organs- his livers and his bowels. He’s a match for--”

“Go away,” the woman said.

“I’m sorry?”

“Please go away. I can’t take anymore. He was healthy, two day ago, he was healthy. He’s my love. And he put his head through a windshield and I have to unplug him. He’s the man who’s supposed to hold my hand when things go bad, he is supposed to be there to help. But he gets to go to heaven, and I can’t take anymore. So please...go away. No more people cutting into him.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You, Taeyong, and Taeyeon were in the O.R. trying the repair the damages to Soojin’s brain. The door opened and Jisoo came in with tears.

“Dr. Taeyong,” Jisoo’s voice cracked.

“Dr. Jisoo.”

“I need y-you...t-to...stop,” She stuttered, “I need you to put down your scalpel. This woman is trying to kill herself and god forgive me, I need you to let her.”

“You need to leave my O.R. Dr. Jisoo.”

“1 day. In 1 day, she going to die, and her organs are going to go with her. They’ll be buried with her body and they’ll rot in the ground and that is a crime. A crime against life. It’s only 1 day. That’s all we’re taking from her and she doesn’t want it anyways.”

“We took an oath Jisoo.”

“I know…” Jisoo voice quivered, “I know we took an oath. But right now that oath makes no sense. So just stop. Just stop. Please. Don’t do anything else for this woman.”

“If I stop this surgery, it’s the equivalent of me sticking this scalpel into her brain, is that what you want?”

“Yes.”

*BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP*

Taeyeon looked at the brain, “She’s hemorrhaging through her craniectomy. Should I at least put in a subdural drain?”

“That’s up to Dr. Jisoo,” Taeyong said.

*BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP*

“Dr. Jisoo, should I put in a drain?” Taeyeon asked.

“No.”

*BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP*

Taeyeon shook her head, “There’s too much bleeding we should do something-”

“I am aware of that, Dr. Taeyeon,” Taeyong put down his scalpel, “It’s your call Jisoo. Am I an executioner or am I a surgeon?”

*BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP*

“Pick up the scalpel,” Jisoo left the room.

You, Taeyong, and Taeyeon continued with the surgery.

“Do you see any bleeders?” He asked you.

“The field is clear.”

He looked at you, you did the same.

“Good job, Dr. Y/n,” He said.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Xiumin walked back to the room.

“He can’t take his liver with him to heaven, or his bowels or his kidneys. His brain is gone, but those organs are probably good because he’s a young man,” Xiumin said, “I know this is not what you want to think about, it’s more than anyone should ever have to think about. But he can’t take his organs with him So please. Please. Please let us have his organs, so that he can give someone their life.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m alive,” Soojin whispered.

“Yes, you are,” You said.

“I was playing you, your boyfriend was right,” She admitted, “I wanted to destroy your career. And I wanted to be here to see the fallout.”

“You were scared Soojin. Death is scary.”

“It would be really good to have a friendly face in the crowd, you know...when they kill me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jisoo sat in Woojin’s room, monitoring everything. Joy walked in and crouched down next to her.

“You need to get some sleep Dr. Jisoo, you’re exhausted, you’re worn out. Get some rest, please,” Joy whispered, “I think it’s time Dr. Jisoo.”

Tears started forming in her eyes, “Call her in here.”

Joy left the room and brought back Woojin’s mother.

“It’s time to hold him,” Jisoo sighed, “He’s going, Soojung, and you need to help him go. Peacefully, in his mother’s arms.”

She walked over to the bed where Woojin layed there, she embraced him.

“It’s okay baby. You can go,” She stroked his head, “Mommy will be okay, you can go. It’s okay, I won’t be mad. Woojin, you can go. It’s okay. You can go. It’s okay.”

Xiumin and Wonwoo ran into the room.

“WE HAVE ORGANS!” They both yell.

*BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP*

Everyone’s head turned towards them.

*BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP*

“We have organs! Get him to O.R. 3, NOW!” Xiumin yelled.

*BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP*

Jisoo ran to Woojin, prying his mother off him, “Starting C.P.R now.”

*BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP*

Xiumin grabbed the crash cart, “Push .35 of epi!”

*BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP*

“Get me a bicarb!” Joy yelled.

They all rushed Woojin to the O.R.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s time, Son Soojin’s execution date was today. The sound of chains clanking against ground filled the dark room. The guards guided her to the table, she took a look around the audience until her eyes met yours. She slightly smiled at you before being pushed and strapped down onto the table, chains still wrapped around her limbs.

Needles were stuck into her arms as her head turned to look at the crowd. The buzzers start blaring, Soojin turned her head back to see the ceiling.

“Huh, lemons. My mother wasn’t lying after all,” Soojin whispered to herself.

The drugs were pushed into Soojin’s body, her limbs becoming relaxed, her eyelids fluttering up and down. He soul was slowly leaving her body, leaving her eyes. You’ve seen that look far too many times before. You couldn’t take it anymore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Woojin had just gotten out of surgery, everyone’s waiting for him to wake up, unsure if they got the organs in time.

Jisoo and Xiumin stood outside, looking at Woojin’s mother alseep next to her son.

“I crossed a line today,” Jisoo said.

“I did too.” Xiumin sighed.

“Woojin?”

Jisoo and Xiumin looked into the room. Woojin’s eyes started slowly opening.

“Can I have some water?” He asked.

His mother smiled at Jisoo and Xiumin and pulled her son into an embrace.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Play I Love You)

The guards opened the gates for you. Across the street, you spot Taeyong next to his car, his arms in his pockets, waiting for you. You walked over to him, puffy eyed, as if you’ve been crying for months. You crossed your arms, he looked at you, and you him.

You sighed, “I know you probably think I’m crazy for doing this. Hell, I think I’m crazy for doing this. But I just wanted to show her compassion, that’s why I went,” Tears fell down your face, “But it was so horrible. It was so fucking horrible!”

Taeyong pulled you into his arms and embraced you, “It’s okay.”

He drove you back to your house, the ride there was mostly silent. You looked at the outside the window, the sky tonight was not beautiful, it was not full of stars, today it was cloudy, as if it were going to rain.

You spoke first, “I can’t…”

“What?”

“I can’t seem to remember our last kiss.”

He didn’t talk to you the rest of the car ride. The two of you reached your house. He opened the door for you and started walking you to the door. You opened your door and walked inside, he started walking back towards his car when he turned around.

He looked at you and smiled, “Last Wednesday, in the elevator.”

“What?”

“You and I both just got out of surgery, it was 4:30 in the morning and we hadn’t been able to see each other for 2 days. We were both exhausted because we had back-to-back surgeries. And I just couldn’t bear another 7 hours without kissing you, so in that moment, I pulled the elevator alarm, and we both had 5 minutes of weakness. That was our last kiss. Last Wednesday, in the elevator.”

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

“The secret to remembering someone, is to care” - Keith Ferrazzi

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julias-on-jojo · 4 years ago

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I wrote a fic for the first time in like 9 years. I hope y’all enjoy it. It’s self-indulgent and I wanna see my red headed boy happy.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27292222

Or read here, if you’re so inclined:

The summer afternoon hits; the air becoming warmer and warmer, flowers blossoming and thriving in their pots or in the earth. The water demand grows ever higher with every day that passes, not only for the blooming buds and full foliage, but for hard working students who hustle and bustle to finish the first session of the school year.

Two larger figures swim through the crowd of high schoolers dispersing from the campus grounds; one head with bright, red hair, signature cherry earrings framing either side of his face. The other is a jet black mess of hair, hidden underneath a tattered hat, adorned with golden pins.

“School is surprisingly mundane still,” Kakyoin opened, stretching his arms out.

“Mmhmm,” Jotaro nodded.

“You’re not very talkative.”

Jotaro just shrugged at his friend, continuing their usual walk back to their homes. He didn’t say much unless he had to, or if he felt like it. How mundane school is wasn’t necessarily a topic of interest either.

“I wanna have things shake up a little, y’know? Good grades and high test scores be damned, we both know there’s more outside of this!” Kakyoin’s burst of energy was certainly a change of pace, considering the months he’d spent bedbound and drained.

“You sure you’re not overdoing it?”

“Hmm?” Kakyoin raised an eyebrow, a pensive expression on his face. Jotaro’s shoulders went back as he adjusted his posture, standing up straighter, his height overshadowing his friend. “Oh, yeah, that ...”

The redhead’s arms wrapped around his torso. The skin grafts and scarring hiding beneath the fabric of his shirt, lacking the full sensation his skin once had. The middle of his spine downward now inorganic, attached with wires and an artificial, metal covering that stuck out like a sore thumb. Thankfully, it wasn’t incredibly obvious by looking at him, but it’s still a painful reminder of the journey to Egypt.

“Your doctor said your mobility may wane over time. I know it hasn’t been long, but you sure you’re not off balance or anything?”

“I- I’m okay,” Kakyoin sighed, gripping his gut. “I haven’t been pushing it, staying out of PE helps, and I’ve been doing the exercises I was told to do! The neurologist and PT cleared me to walk without the braces on, so-“

Jotaro moved one hand from his pocket to his friend’s shoulder, “I just don’t want your energy to get ahead of you.”

Kakyoin laughed and swatted the hand away, “if I collapse you’ll just have to- ... Jojo, whose car ... cars? Whose cars are those outside of your house?”

Jotaro’s eyes shifted forward, taking in the view before him. A van and a luxury vehicle? His mother didn’t have anything like this, and his dad wasn’t the one driving if a car was around. The van would maybe be one of the neighbors, but it was too new. It didn’t have the worn out, finger-smudged, family “loved” appearance as any other family’s car. Why on Earth would that be parked next to a nice luxury rental?

Jotaro’s expression went from thoughtful to shock as he heard his name being bellowed in a familiar, gruff voice.

“JOTARO, THERE’S MY GRANDSON!!”

“Oh good gri-oof!” The catchphrase was cut off by a smiling Joseph Joestar, wrapping two muscular arms around the grouchy teen and lifting him slightly.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Joestar!! Welcome back to Japan!” Kakyoin smiled with a wave.

“Kakyoin!! Glad to see you up and walking!” Joseph grabbed him and the two hugged, having been apart since the trip.

“More than that, I assure you. I’m basically back to normal!”

“What are you doing here, gramps?” Jotaro asked, straightening out his uniform.

Joseph frowned, “What? Am I not allowed to visit my daughter and grandson?!”

“Excuse me, Mr. Joestar? I take it this is the boy you’ve been talking about?” A new voice, not Holly, and certainly not Japanese.

Joseph turned back toward the house, his signature grin spreading across his face, “The one and only!”

A girl stepped forward from the house and into the entrance of the Kujo household. Overshadowed by the three crusaders, chestnut colored hair laying straight, and hazel eyes taking in the two, new figures before her.

The girl stepped forward, clearing her throat, and, in the best Japanese she could muster, “<It’s nice to meet you! My name is Mae.>” Her hand outstretched for a handshake.

Jotaro and Kakyoin looked at each other, and while Jotaro rolled his eyes and scoffed, Kakyoin laughed and shook her hand.

“Your Japanese is great! I’m Noriyaki Kakyoin,” his hand dropped from their mutual grip and pointed over at the taller boy, “and that guy over there is, indeed, Jotaro Kujo.”

“Thank you! I’m glad I said everything right, I’ve been practicing for so long ... your English is fantastic!”

Kakyoin smiled, “Thank you. I appreciate your willingness to learn the language, <but you don’t speak fluently, do you?>”

“Uh ... <hold on, wait a moment,> um ... I- sorry, I uh ...” the girl became flustered trying to respond, “I don’t speak as much as I wish I did.” Embarrassment crept up on her cheeks as a pink blush.

“No need to worry about that here, miss Mae,” Joseph reassured her, “In this household, English is enough to communicate!”

Kakyoin couldn’t help but feel a bit out of place, even if English was a second language to him. He turned back to Jotaro, who was doing his best to just try and shrink away, despite his massive size. English wasn’t his friend’s forte, even with having an American mom. With someone who wholeheartedly accepted her husbands culture like Holly, Japanese was the primary language in the house. Jotaro’s English wasn’t terrible, per say, but definitely not fluent.

“< You okay? >”

“< I hate women, they’re so annoying! >” Jotaro snarled.

“< Be nice! She’s a guest with your granddad! >”

“< Doesn’t stop her from being rude. >”

“< What do you- >“ Jotaro pointed over at the girl. Even if Joseph was busy speaking at her and being the doting old man he’s proven to be, Mae was staring.

Jotaro walked forward and entered the house, arm colliding with Mae’s shoulder, nearly knocking her over ... and definitely out of her stupor.

“Jotaro! What the hell was that?! Is that any way to treat someone, especially a guest?!” Joseph scolded, chasing after his grandson.

Mae turned, her gaze following the Joestar men into the house, rubbing her shoulder. The embarrassment was visible on her face.

Kakyoin sighed, wrapping an arm around Mae’s shoulder, “Don’t mind Jojo. He’s just kinda like that. He warms up as you get to know him.”

“He’s so .. big,” Mae replied, looking up at the redhead, “Mr. Joestar didn’t say he’d be a giant!”

Kakyoin couldn’t help but laugh, “He’s not a giant! Tall, sure, but he’s no giant! Besides, you’re .. what? 167 centimeters?”

“I’m 5 foot 6.”

“Okay, 167 and a HALF. But don’t let his size intimidate you! Jotaro is just the strong, silent type.”

“Is he mute or something?”

Kakyoin hesitated, “Selectively.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re normal, at least, so far,” Mae said with a small, nervous laugh. “I’m sorry, that’s rude. I didn’t mean to stare before, I’m just ... taking it all in. Mr. Joestar moved my dad out here for business and -”

“Your dad works for Mr. Joestar?”

“Oh, yeah!” Mae smiled, puffing out her chest in pride, “dad’s one of the top sellers for Joestar Real Estate! When Joseph wanted to expand to have some international business, dad was one of his top choices!”

“And Japan was a first location because of Ms. Holly?”

“Bingo!” Mae beamed, snapping her fingers and pointing finger guns.

The two were interrupted by the sounds of high pitched screaming and the sound of heavy footsteps. Jotaro came darting back out of the house, two younger kids hot on his tail.

“TEACH ME YOUR WAYS, MUSCLE MAN!!” screamed the older boy.

“Leave him alone!! That’s no way to treat my body guard!!” shouted the younger girl.

Jotaro fled behind Kakyoin, “< THERE’S MORE. >”

The redhead looked at his friend, then back to the feisty children standing before him, having stopped dead in their tracks to figure out how to remove Jotaro’s human shield.

“You two are insufferable and violating all kinds of space!” Mae scolded, grabbing the younger child and picking her up. The older one took two steps away before his arm was yanked, “You don’t call someone that, you don’t designate them as your personal protection, and you leave them the hell alone in their own house!”

“Yeah, but he’s so-!” the older one was cut off, his arm hold becoming a headlock.

“No! You’re the older brother, you KNOW better!” Mae turned to the boys behind her, “I’m so incredibly sorry about these two, they know no boundaries. I’ll make it up to you with food or something.”

Mae walked back into the house, the sounds of protesting children following her.

“< What the fuck just happened? >” Kakyoin asked.

“< She has siblings, and they’re little goblins. >” Jotaro replied, straightening his hat.

Jotaro’s nightmare did not end so easily. His grandfather had introduced his mother to his star employee and his family of 6.

Mr. Ben Harrison, his wife, Jean, and their 4 children; Mae (18), Greg (9), Lila (7), and the baby, Charlie (1.5).

“< It’s a welcome party!! Isn’t this exciting, Jotaro?! >” Holly squealed, busily moving about the kitchen.

“< No, >” Jotaro sneered, having dragged Kakyoin inside to provide an excuse for escape.

“Don’t be rude!” Joseph snapped.

“< I- I have a guest of my own, I need to do schoolwork! >”

“Since when have you been focused on more than just passing?!”

Jotaro glared at his grandfather, grabbed Kakyoin by the arm and lead him away from the mass of people. Kakyoin gave Joseph a worried smile and a small wave as he was dragged off.

Jotaro went immediately to his own bedroom and slammed the door shut, letting out a groan of aggravation.

“... You wanna talk about it?” Kakyoin asked, placing his school bag down.

“No! Those dumb little fuckers got onto me and wouldn’t let go!”

“They’re kids, Jojo. They don’t mean you any harm, if anything, the little girl wanted you for a body guard! That’s a compliment! ... A weird compliment, but still.”

Jotaro groaned at the suggestion, “They kept touching me, climbing onto my arms and just violating my space, no matter how much I tried to remove them!! They’re worse than their older sister.”

“You just met them. I know those kids were wrong, but Mae literally just introduce herself.”

“She’s a woman. She’s annoying. End of story.”

Kakyoin rolled his eyes and sighed, “if that’s how you’re going to be, fine, but I feel like you should know someone a little before you decide to hate them.”

“I don’t hate her, I just don’t want to deal with her.”

“Whatever you say, Jojo. How’s about we actually do that schoolwork you were talking about?”

Jotaro sighed, there was no way around getting things done with Kakyoin. Not unless he wanted to play video games, and then he’d just be more annoyed by how much of a show off his friend is. He grabbed his bag and began to remove the papers and books from inside.

A knock, then the door crashed open, “What the hell was that?! How dare you leave your mother and I alone to host so many people!!” It was Joseph. Of course it was Joseph.

“Go away, gramps, mom is good at this stuff and you’re the one who taught her. You’ll be fine without me,” Jotaro sneered.

“That’s not the point! Get your ass out here and be social!”

Both boys just looked at the older man, “I don’t know if Jotaro is best suited for that, Mr. Joestar.”

“Papaaaa! Come back here and help!!” Holly demanded from the kitchen.

Joseph sighed, “I know you’re not the most social person ever, but I’m trying to make a good impression on a very reliable employee. He’s moved his entire family from America to Japan and it would be really helpful if-“

The clattering and crashing of pots and pans, then the sounds of a small human crying.

Jotaro huffed and moved to the doorway, moving his grandfather aside, “I ain’t doing this for you, old man. You owe me.”

Joseph smiled and sprang back toward the hubbub, Jotaro sauntering behind, Kakyoin following along to witness the potential disaster unfold.

The trio was greeted to a father holding his toddler in his arms, trying to comfort the little boy while cleaning up the spilled kitchenware. Apologies were repeated, Holly reassuring this strange man that it was okay and it happens with little ones.

The man stood up, rubbing his baby boy’s back, “Shhh, come on Chuckie, it was just loud, you’re okay!”

Mae walked across the scene, removing the tot from her father’s arms, “I got this, dad. A change of scenery and he’ll be right as rain.” The girl took her baby brother to the other room, patting his back and swaying gently to try and calm his screaming.

The stranger sighed and sank, elbows on the counter and hands holding his head. Joseph clapped a hand on the man’s back, “You’ve got a good one on your hands with her, Ben.”

The man’s hands slid back to his neck and he looked up at his boss with a weak smile, “Thank you, sir. That means a lot.” The man’s eyes moved over to the two teenagers looking cluelessly in his direction, “Sorry about that, boys.”

Joseph’s hand moved across his employee’s shoulders, bringing him in for a half hug, “Never mind that! Charlie’s little! Like Holly said, happens all the time.” The older man looked up and gestured to Jotaro, “He’s eventually gonna be a grouchy teenager like my grandson!”

“Ah! YOU are the famous Jotaro! Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Ben Harrison-“ the man walked over and exchanged pleasantries in English, Jotaro just nodding and politely shaking his hand as greeting. Ben’s attention shifted to Kakyoin, “and you, son?”

“Just a fellow guest, sir,” he replied, shaking Mr. Harrison’s hand.

“Nonsense!!” Holly interjected, “Kakyoin is basically family! He and Jotaro have been friends for a while now, and they’re practically inseparable!”

“Practically,” Kakyoin repeated, stepping to the side and wanting to be as far away from the kitchen as humanly possible.

The conversations continued, Jotaro being roped into cutting ingredients for his mother while the grownups discussed whatever it is grownups talk about, the middle siblings keeping each other busy under Mrs. Harrison’s watchful eye. Kakyoin actually managed to slip away and notify his own family that he won’t be home for dinner.

#It’s a Story #chapters 1 & 2 #jjba #fanart #jjba part 3 #jojos bizarre adventure #stardust crusaders #jotaro kujo #noriyaki kakyoin #kakyoin #joseph joestar #OCs #AU - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies #Modern AU #Slow Burn

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glittergummicandypeach · 5 years ago

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Rejecting parents’ religion: parenting advice from Care and Feeding.

Care and Feeding is Slate’s parenting advice column. Have a question for Care and Feeding? Submit it here or post it in the Slate Parenting Facebook group.

Dear Care and Feeding,

All my life I have raised my child Christian, and now as she moves on to college and has a boyfriend, I’ve got it out of her that they are atheists. It devastates me, but I also know it is up to her to get her salvation.

The above statements are what I know my parents feel. I am the atheist child.

What do I do to help my parents feel less crushed? I know they only want me to accept God again, but I just don’t believe. I understand their faith, I just don’t want them to continue to feel hurt by seeing me.

As I move on to hopefully marry someone who agrees with me on my views, I feel they will continue to be devastated. And, will cry tears of agony instead of joy if they attend my wedding.

I know my views could change, but I seriously just want to hear what I can do to lower their agony.

—Child Turned Away

Dear CTA,

You are a kind and gentle person. I’m actually very touched by the concern you express for your parents’ feelings. It indicates they are not being total D-bags to you about the situation, which is great, but also complicated: When parents are being total D-bags about your loss of faith (which may not be a loss for you), it’s a lot easier to tell them to pound sand and move on with your life. When parents just seem fragile and sad about it, a lot of protectiveness and misplaced guilt can kick in. Fragility and sadness can also be very effective tools of control. Don’t feel like you have to apologize, equivocate, or take on the burden of their sadness.

You’re no longer a child. You’re their child, but none of us get any guarantees about our children, I can assure you. I’m a generic Protestant who is pretty into it without being an evangelical, so my lovely and mega-progressive shit-stirring Catholic mom is only mildly disappointed I’m on the JV squad of God and not playing varsity, and my lovely atheist dad is mostly bemused, as he really did lay out a great case for Only the Sweet Release of the Cosmic Void Awaits Us All (frequently a very comforting thought in its own right). They’re fine. I have no idea if my children will turn out to want or seek or find faith. I believe in God and that one day the circle will be unbroken, but today I cried for (checks watch) almost 45 minutes about John Prine dying, so it’s certainly not a magic balm that eases all lives and has the power to protect us from the fear of death. Religion can be a real motherfucker, as history past and present shows us.

My answer is that I want you to try to first release this weighty sense of obligation for their feelings that so clearly presses on you. You have nothing to be sorry for. You didn’t burn down their garage. They have experienced a form of loss and that’s for them to work through. But you do feel a sense of obligation to lighten their load, and I want to acknowledge that and offer some words of help.

Don’t dangle any “well, who knows what the future holds?” carrots in front of them. If a burning bush speaks to you, you can handle that when it comes. Expectation management is one of the true keys of human existence.

You are a person with values. Some of those values probably came from your parents. You can thank them for those values, if they have helped you become the good person you clearly are, without needing to buy into the belief system that provided them to your parents in the first place. You can talk to them about your own values. You do not have to be the Best Atheist in the World Who Cares About All Living Things and Climate Change and Systemic Inequality Every Single Damn Day; you can just be yourself. You’re the same kid they had last year. A good person.

You can also, down the road, absolutely say, “If you are gonna cry tears of agony at my wedding, don’t come.” That’s nonsense. If they try to win you back to Christ with teary phone calls in the more immediate future, you can say, “Let’s talk in a few days when you’re calmer.”

Just be yourself, all of yourself, be gentle but firm, maintain boundaries when necessary, and love them the best you can. That’s all anyone can do. I also encourage you to be aware of your own sense of loss, if you ever do perceive it as such, and to seek help from secular counselors if you need to process it. That doesn’t have to mean “I miss believing in God”; it can mean “I am sad that my natural progression as a human who lives in the world has affected my most foundational relationships and need to mourn that.” I’m glad you have found meaning and happiness in your life, and I wish you all the joy in the world.

Dear Care and Feeding,

I have a 4-year-old son who hums loudly while eating food he really enjoys. My husband thinks this is inappropriate behavior at the table and is a problem to be corrected. I see absolutely nothing wrong with it and assume he will grow out of it. He’s a completely normal delightful/crazy-making 4-year-old.

I don’t want my husband wasting quality time with his son harping about something that doesn’t really matter. Am I wrong on this?

—Loves a Pleasant Tune

Dear LaPT,

Oh, what a deliciously small problem, thank you so much for this. Honestly, at 4, I think your husband is right that it’s time to phase out loud vocalizations during dinner. (If your son has any markers for any developmental issues other than joyous food humming, and it turns out to be a verbal stim, I would probe that first, and I would be more inclined to let him enjoy his humming.) In the absence of such a reason, it’s not going to go over great at school, it’s clearly annoying the heck out of your husband, and I enjoy tremendous numbers of things I cannot do in front of other people at a sit-down dinner. It does not have an impact on my human flourishing, I assure you.

I don’t think “please do not hum at the table” is “wasting quality time.” It’s just parenting. He’s not going to look back on his life and say, “If only the two weeks it spent me to get my kid not to sound like a bumblebee when we had stroganoff for dinner could have been spent tossin’ the old pigskin around.” This will be over quickly, and you will barely remember it. If your husband is the only aggravated party, obviously you can expect him to be the “no humming” point person on this. You do not have to chime in, but I would encourage you not to actively undermine him in his quest, which is always a mistake for nonabusive familial situations.

See, too, if there’s a way he can take this musical impulse and do something a little less disruptive with it. I don’t mean “get him a harmonica,” but he might enjoy learning to sing. Exchange the behavior for a more productive one, if possible.

Congratulations on being an excellent cook! If your husband is the excellent cook, please pass on my compliments.

• If you missed Thursday’s Care and Feeding column, read it here.

• Discuss this column in the Slate Parenting Facebook group!

Dear Care and Feeding,

Just like everyone these days, I fear COVID-19. I’m staying at home, going to the store only when necessary, etc. My boyfriend is a police officer, and although I know he is very cautious, I’m worried about him unintentionally infecting me due to him having to work and human interaction. I have an autoimmune disorder and have repeatedly told him these concerns, yet he still comes over daily. He knows it’s serious but at the same time thinks it’s completely overblown. I’ve been clear that I do not agree. He’s taking it personally which floors me. I’m at a complete loss on how to handle this at this point.

—Losing It in Longview

Dear LIiL,

I need clarity on one point: Have you told him directly that he needs to stop coming to your house? Because if you have, as opposed to just telling him you’re worried and concerned about your autoimmune condition and the possibility of exposure, then he is in direct violation of your personal autonomy and you need to a) break up with him and b) carefully, as he clearly does not respect a “no.”

If you haven’t said, “I need you to stop coming over until things are under control,” then you need to say it now, today, and if his response is that you might as well just break up, that’s his choice. If he continues to violate your wishes, see the above paragraph. Our essential workers are essential, but so is your health.

I am not a dating columnist, but you came to me and here I am. I do not like this situation for you.

Is It OK to Go to the Zoo During the Coronavirus Pandemic?

Dan Kois, Jamilah Lemieux, and Elizabeth Newcamp host this week’s episode of Slate’s parenting podcast, Mom and Dad Are Fighting.

Dear Care and Feeding,

I’m not doing well. Are other parents doing well? I feel like the only person drowning when I see Instagram posts of learning-and-chore charts. I have to “work from home” with two small kids, and there just aren’t enough hours in the day. We do our best to do the remote learning we’re given, but some days it’s “let’s read a few books and then watch educational shows on Netflix.”

—I Feel Like a Schlub

Dear IFLaS,

We live in strange times, as did all previous generations at one point or another (Joni Mitchell spent weeks in a polio ward with essentially zero contact with her parents when she was 9 and still wrote “The Last Time I Saw Richard” eventually). You’re doing fine. Instagram is a lie. Be kind to yourself, do your best, and remember that every other kid is going to eventually return to school in a slightly more feral state and will need to catch up on things. The teachers know this. It’s just reality. You do not have to be a superstar; you just need to get through this. I also feel like I’m dropping the ball constantly, and I’m supposed to be a professional.

We’re in this together. Most kids have two months of essentially no education every summer, and yet they manage to grow and flourish and learn. One year where every kid gets double summer is not going to amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world. Younger kids, like yours, are going to barely remember this.

I let my kids watch part of Thor: Ragnarok yesterday. We’re all just making it through the day. My friends who are teachers are struggling just like everyone else. I think you’re great.

— Nicole

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My loving, kind boyfriend of five years has spent the last 10 months in prison. He was off to a great start in his profession when a friend snitched and he got in trouble for possession with intent to distribute an illegal drug (that is legal one state over). He is now getting out of jail in his early 30s with more than $180,000 in student loan debt, a felony conviction, and is losing his professional license. We have stayed together during this ordeal, and luckily my family and friends are very supportive. I love him dearly and can’t wait for him to be home, but as his release date gets closer, I am starting to have a return of some of the anxiety symptoms I began having after his arrest. I work full time in a field I am very passionate about and could eventually be employed by the government. I am worried about how his record will affect me in the long term. I also sometimes feel that I am being a real idiot for staying with him due to his poor decisions. However, I am crazy about him, and we have so much fun together all the time. Any advice?

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