#like Ive hardly been able to eat in days ive felt so sick and I don't even have pre-existing issues 😭

[sappymix1]

why would anon say they're waiting for sapnap to get in the ring please think of his ibs

THINK OF HIS IBS 😭😭😭😭

[jossambird]

Saturday Morning

Axel x Female Reader on her Period

BLOOD WARNING! 18+ !! (Dedicated to my dear Salt Anon, who was absolutely disgusted at the recent talk on my blog, saying I shouldn't be ‘tainting’ the Swedes like this, BUT HERE WE ARE.)

Saturday mornings in Axel’s book were always the best.

He could finally enjoy true peace and quiet, knowing that you and his brothers were peacefully sleeping in late in each of your rooms, leaving only him and the cats to be awake.

Today, as he woke, the sound of the shower already running grabbed his attention. He instantly felt his mood sour, a bit miffed to not have his quiet morning alone.

Hadn’t he told Otto and Oscar that on Saturday mornings, he wanted to enjoy them alone, in silence? Of course, he would never hold it against them if they were sick, but the soft humming that could almost be missed if you didn’t pay attention didn’t seem to be coming from someone being sick.

Axel sighed, rough fingers pulling on a pair of joggings and a shirt, determined to go give either of his brothers a piece of his mind.

The moment he stood before the door, stopping for only but a moment to try and listen once more who it was behind it, he stared at the white painted wood, regretting waking up altogether.

It hadn’t been humming at all. Soft moans sounded out through the hard wood, your voice reaching his ears like a moth to a flame. The sounds were more sensual than he had ever imagined. Axel felt hot and desperate shame lick at his heart as his insides churned, heat pooling in his groin.

Too many times had he dreamed of you, sprawled out on his bed, clothes abandoned all over the house and soft hands seeking him out, begging to be fucked. Too many times had you touched him innocently, his skin remaining on fire for hours on end until he disappeared in his room, jerking himself off until he bit his lip hard enough to draw blood.

Too many mornings had he relieved himself before stepping out of his room, never able to meet your gaze those particular days. The eldest Swede felt like he was under a curse, hypnotized daily by your presence.

He couldn’t say with certainty how badly he had wished for you to truly know, simply to read his mind and tell him you wanted him just the same, but you never did. And he, cold and grumpy, yearned for you from afar, silent, watching as you cuddled and hugged his brothers freely.

But as Axel stood, listening to your moans of pleasure through the bathroom door, he froze, wondering what the right course of action was.

Leave and let you finish yourself off?

Pretend he hadn’t heard you, as if nothing happened?

Walk inside and show you what you were missing?

His body reacted before he could think any longer on the matter, hand reaching for the handle and twisting it open, allowing him to witness you in all of your amazing glory.

In all honesty, Axel was hardly surprised at this point as he groaned loudly by accident, watching you freeze and whip around inside the clear shower, panting, fingers deep inside your pussy, blood trickling down your legs, mixing with the shower water.

Neither of you moved except for the rapid breaths you took, eyes moving down his front-

“Either get in and help, or get out.” You panted in the running shower, eyes closing as your fingers resumed their careful ministrations and entering your core once more, a filthy moan exiting you as Axel watched from the doorway stupefied.

The thought crossed your mind suddenly to simply tell him to get out and that you would be done soon, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to say it, the vicious throb between your legs begging to be sated, begging for the handsome man to touch you.

The ache was terrible, a blazing heat coursing through your veins and body, needing to explode but not being able to. It was always like this when you had your period. Usually, you were able to hide your horniness from the Swedes during the day, but come nighttime, you practically fucked yourself to sleep each night, biting your unoccupied hand to hide your noises from them.

But last night? Nothing had worked, nothing had allowed you to feel the satisfying release you needed, your body growing even more tense and needy as you had imagined Axel waking in not too long.

And here you now stood, shower water running down your heated skin, fingers pounding into your aching core as the eldest of the Swedish Triplets watched you in... what is horror? Disgust? You didn’t want to know-

The bathroom door shut behind you, disappointment coursing through you momentarily until you heard Axel lock the door behind him.

“How long have you been in here?” Axel asked you as he ripped his shirt off, flinging it onto the counter with your own sleep top, eyes never leaving you. You groaned in response, pushing your cheek into the cold tiles once more to hide your blush.

“Too long.. ugh please Axel, help me.” You begged, the words waking a dominant lust inside him as he wondered if you were simply settling for his help. Would you have offered Oscar this opportunity to satisfy your body and needs if it had been him to find you like this? Would you have offered it to Otto, his gentle brother who always smiled when around you?

A slight twinge of jealousy coursed through him at the thought, throwing his joggings to the ground.

As soon as the glass door opened and closed, Axel's rough hands grabbed your hips tightly and turned you around, blue-gray eyes pinning you to the spot as he knelt infront of you on both knees, holding your gaze.

“Tell me, would you have offered my brothers the same thing, had it been either of them to find you?” Axel huskily asked, hands trailing down your wet legs, eyes flickering away for only a second to look at your immobile bloody fingers. He pulled them away from your body and kissed your knuckles, making your thundering heart flutter.

He watched with rapt attention as you gasped, shaking your head No as you continued to watch him pull one of your legs up and over his shoulder, knowing where this was going. The handsome bastard barely blinked when you tried to push away, his eyebrows knitting as he held your elevated knee roughly down onto his shoulder, not wanting you to escape.

“Second thoughts?” He asked, wondering if you were regretting asking him for help. He would respect your choice if you did, but god did he want you, cock hard between his muscled wide legs as he thought of the possibility of finally tasting you, your soaked core inches from his face.

Axel noticed your eyes crinkle before anything else, and for half a second, expected you to laugh at him. He couldn’t stop the intense pounding of his heart as your strangled laugh exited your mouth, smiling ear to ear.

There was no simple way to say it; he was head over heels for you, plain and simple.

“Fuck no, Ive been dreaming of you like this for months. But Axel, w-wait, you cant eat me out, I have my period-“

You didn’t finish, a filthy moan leaving your lips as soon as Axel’s tongue met your heated and aching core, heightened sensitivity making you reach out and cling to his face.

One hand stayed firm onto your elevated leg, caressing your skin while his other wrapped around his cock and moved, trying to match the movement of your hips against his mouth, all the while listening to your angelic voice call out his name.

“Axel oh my god, fuuuck, I'm so close!” Moans escaped you in waves, one after the other, words of praise and adoration leaving your lips, making him groan against you as he continued to lick your clit, adoring the taste of you on his tongue. As he continued, he just wondered how long you had been in here, touching yourself, trying to bring yourself over the edge. He could feel your body tense against him, practically almost there already.

“Most handsome man Ive ever s-seen eating me out- O-ohh fuck, Axel-“ you gasped, hands rising from his shoulders to seek out his wet hair, bright white light erupting behind your eyelids as Axel brought you over the edge, tongue against your clit.

He didn’t last much longer, cumming against the wet floor tiles, listening as you keened and whined against his open mouth as he continued, prolonging your orgasm as much as he could.

You panted, thankful for his hold on you as you nearly slipped, legs turning to jelly.

The sight of him was absolutely indecent; Axel smirked proudly up at you, water and blood dripping down his chin as he stood, leaning his face into the water to rinse out his mouth and face.

The sound of the water hitting both of your bodies disappeared as your heart thudded loudly into your ears.

Axel turned back to you, pulling you against him and pressed his face into your shoulder. He breathed in, smiling a bit wider as he felt your rapid heartbeat match his own.

“Better, or do you need another round?” He whispered over the hot shower, kissing your skin repeatedly in veneration as he listened to your laughter.

“Got a thing for period play Axel? How absolutely naughty.” You teased, laughing as you pulled away to look at him, breath catching as you caught sight of his gaze.

“For you älskling? Id fucking do anything you asked me to.” He groaned out, dropping to his knees once more, smirking dangerously. The sight of the serious assassin you had fallen for kneeling once more between your legs, looking up at you in reverence instantly made you need him all over again.

“Then I absolutely need you to fuck me later today, and tonight.” You moaned out, causing Axel to laugh wholeheartedly against your core.

[the-darkfactory]

A SICK GIRL.

This text was written and published in November 2018. This is the first time I translate to English. Hope it reaches those who need to read it most. Much love.

I was born dying. I was dragged from my mom's belly straight to the intensive care unit and spent a month in the incubator until I could breathe without machines. I was also born whole and no one ever told me that, one day, my mind was going to split in two.

I was very little when I first felt strange. Very strange. I was already 5’6 feet tall when I started my last year in primary school, finding clothes that fit me was torture. However, for my graduation party, I found a purple dress that seemed perfect. When I tried it on, under that all-showing light in the changing room, I felt fat. That was the first time I was disgusted by my reflection.

After a summer tinged with school farewell melodrama, I started high school. I spent most of my free time studying, listening to the Backstreet Boys or reading Harry Potter. At the end of the first semester, I got the best grades in my class. While everyone at home was happily celebrating, I made a pact with a friend: I was going to stop eating.

My thinness brought about new habits and what I remember the most is how cold I was: during school recess, my friends would go out to play and I would stay in the classroom wearing every sweatshirt I could find. It would take me forty-five minutes to eat an apple and before going to sleep, I would go over each food item I’ve had in the day and calculate the calories. I also learned that I had to get up slowly to avoid the dizziness that turned my room into a washing machine.

One day my family and I went to one of those “all you can eat” restaurants. After two sandwiches and a bit of cake, I started crying because I had an intense stomach ache, but it was all a premeditated drama I staged so they wouldn't make me have dinner. Two days later, my mom dragged me to a clinic. I had to take off my clothes and stand on an ice-cold scale. "You weigh 39 kilos," the doctor announced. "You're anorexic."

I was taken to a hospital that had a team specializing in treating people like me. We waited for hours until my name was called and I was met by an anti-anorexic army: a nutritionist, a clinical doctor, a psychiatrist, a psychologist and others I never understood who they were. They made my parents leave and Anorexia and I were interrogated. They asked us if we vomited, if we had thought about committing suicide and if we had ever been abused. When we talked about my parents' divorce, we burst into tears. Then they faced the back of two chairs and asked us to separate them according to how far apart we felt they had to be from each other in order for us to fit between them. We did it and passed the test: we knew we were tiny. The doctors said I was on the verge of hospitalization. I was a sick girl.

Once our relationship was made official, we went to the hospital three times a week. Long waiting, weighing, talking. We were forbidden to be physically active and we had to write down how much of what we ate a day. Mom sometimes comforted us and sometimes shouted at us. One night she yelled a lot because we had only had a piece of fruit for dinner, but how could I explain to her that eating made Anorexia hurt and so it hurt me too? We were sent to a psychologist we stared at in silence for an hour. We finished our junior year with straight As, enslaved at home and undernourished.

Anorexia and I did everything together. I would start a sentence and she would finish it. When I moved my hand to grab something, she was the one who forced my fingers closed, and if something bothered her, I did whatever was necessary to calm her down. One afternoon, we went cycling with our friends and we were carried on the handlebars so we wouldn't move. Everything was going beautifully until a sudden stop made us fall face first to the ground. We got up spitting teeth and blood. We broke our four incisors, skin came off our lips and we split the right side of our face. That night before showering, I stared at our skeletal, beaten up reflection. Days shy of my fourteenth birthday, I cried my heart out asking Anorexia what the fuck had she done.

I wanted her to go away. The only thing I could do to get her to leave was eat. Sometimes she won, sometimes I won. Once, she lost 100 grams and I went home after the medical check up feeling a killer urge. Another day, I gained 200 and that night she didn’t let me sleep. It was war. If Anorexia told me to hide food, I ran off to snack with my brother. If she hated sandwiches, I'd buy a dozen of my favorites. For every complaint of hers, a food bite of mine, and so, bite by bite, I filled her mouth with silence until I could no longer hear her speak.

I started my second year of high school with a seemingly healthy weight. I went to the hospital once a week. Eventually, I was told I could go once a fortnight, once every twenty-one days and, somehow, I stopped going altogether. I don’t remember how or when that decision was made. The only thing I do know is that during all that time I ate almost nothing from Monday to Friday and a lot from Saturday to Sunday in order to weigh more at the Monday check-ups. The thing was that once the pact between Anorexia and I had been made, she would try and talk to me every day. People didn't notice but I knew she was still there. We were still the best students, we lifted weights after eating a salad and we never got our periods. We were stopped on the streets to be offered jobs at modeling agencies and we realized that our bond had the aesthetic approval of society. I forgave her for all she had done and gave her, again, space in my body to grow.

When we turned seventeen, Anorexia changed. She screamed at me and didn't feel like doing anything. We quit the gym, gained weight and developed insomnia. One drunken night, we came home and went straight to the kitchen. We opened the fridge and devoured, on our knees, all the leftovers from dinner. We then shoved our fingers down our throats. That's how Bulimia arrived.

Bulimia was fiercely hungry. My cheeks, arms, and chin grew like a fatty bubble. I was disgusted by my body and I got dressed in the dark. I stopped studying, I couldn't concentrate on anything else. At prom I had two drinks and passed out. I woke up in hospital with an IV in my arm and my worried mother by my side. I didn't know how to explain that for weeks and in order to be skinny that night, everything I ate, Bulimia vomited.

I wanted to feel normal. I was very weak and exhausted, but Bulimia was young and confident. She never shut up, she would even eat raw polenta in spoonfuls and vomit it all, leaving me tired and confused lying in my bed. Her arrival was abrupt because Anorexia had already drilled holes in my head: they were different versions of the same thing and a pattern of destructive habits that infected everything. They turned my life into a living hell.

We vomited so much that we spent hours burying our heads in the toilet seat and we would only stop when we saw the first thing we had eaten leaving our body. We did it five, six times a day. We used every bathroom we set foot in. The ones at school, my friends' houses, restaurants, my grandmother's, my dad's. I developed arrhythmia and thought that Bulimia was going to get me killed. Some nights, while dreaming that I was violently bingeing, I would wake up desperate and ready to stick my fingers in my mouth until I realized that, that one time, the binge had been a dream. That feeling of “fake need to vomit” was the closest thing to peace I felt during those times.

Bulimia didn't want me around anyone. She made me think I was crazy and that I would never be able to be separated from her. I stayed away from my friends. I stopped having dinner with my family and we would lock ourselves up in my room. Mom would bring me trays of food that Bulimia kept in plastic bags. I once found a rotten chicken inside the closet. It was full of maggots. We were almost found out when my brother saw a glass of vomit in the bathroom that we had forgotten to flush down the toilet. He brought it to me and said, "Is this yours?" while retching. We nodded and took it away from him as if it had been a misplaced shoe.

I don't know how I managed to free myself from anorexia and bulimia, but for the last three years I have hardly felt their presence. Sometimes I wonder if I started traveling around the world to confuse them and leave them stranded in another part of the planet. Maybe they got bored of my criticism and couldn't stand my will to not share my body with them. One thing I’m sure of is that love played a major part. It was crucial to understand that I did not choose to live with them and that asking a person with compulsive thoughts to stop having them is like asking a paralytic to simply stand up and walk.

Anorexia and bulimia stole my time and energy. I gave them my will to live, my projects and motivations. In return, they gave me anxiety, panic attacks, depression and suicidal thoughts. They still whisper to me every now and then but I can ignore them. It’s not always easy. I don’t know, this coexistence has been very strange but they definitely don’t own me anymore. Looking for the reasons I developed this disorder is complex. I know that I was affected by the pressure I felt from a very young age to be perfect, the weirdness that arose in my family dynamics after the divorce and feeling that for society I was worth more as a woman the skinnier I was. The final trigger must have been a genetic predisposition and a bit of mystery: there is still a lot that science doesn't know about all this. Once my disease was established, it became a vicious, out-of-control cycle that was perpetuated by the worst evil of all: silence. I felt a deep shame, thought it was my fault and that, hence, I deserved what was happening to me. That made me sicker and I vowed to hide it, which was possible because these disorders are invisible: they lock themselves inside bodies of all types, gender, background, shape and turn them into slaves.

When I stopped vomiting and regained control of my hands, I wrote this. It feels weird. After seventeen years of being in a symbiotic relationship, there is something I still don't understand: if I am no longer a sick girl, then who am I?

[angst-king]

Stuck in this static void pt 1

(TW: anorexic behavior, bullying, selfharm, mention of vomiting. suicide attempt) (quirkless mental hospital AU) “GET LOST FREAK!” “FUCKING NERD!” “LOSER!” All of these words were things that Izuku had become number to, or so he thought. It still hurt him to be called these things, still he felt as if those words were true. He was a loser, he was alone, he had no friends. He was a freak, he had myostatin deficiency which is where the gene Myostatin is lacking and it means he grew muscles at an early age. It wasn’t as extreme as it was for some yet, those muscles made him look bigger, scared people away. His muscles didn’t seem to fit his body or it didn’t to some people. That was before he started his new weight loss. Izuku thought he was too big, too ugly or fat which made no sense to some who knew of this disorder because. When you have a myostatin deficiency, you don’t have much body fat to begin with. That didn’t stop Izuku from bringing a water bottle with ipecac that he would drink after eating lunch, dinner or breakfast. After Katsuki and his friends had decided to be done tormenting Izuku. 

The green haired male sunk against the wall he’d been cornered in. Then the thoughts in his mind came in like overwhelming static rising at a louder volume than Bakugou’s yelling. ‘Die already you idiot, this wouldn’t be happening if you just died!’ ‘HONESTLY YOUR MOM WOULDN’T CARE IF YOU PUKE YOUR GUTS OUT, YOU’RE JUST A HUGE BURDEN!’ Picking himself up he quietly grabbed his bag and headed to the bathroom taking his water bottle with him. It was after lunch and he hadn’t gotten a chance to ‘fix himself’ this time was different though. As he walked to the bathroom he started chugging down the water knowing what the result would be. He could feel the liquids slide down to his stomach and he could already feel knots forming. He’d made it just in time as saliva pools into his mouth. He gets into a stall, locks the door and gets down on his knees surrendering his bodily consumptions to the porcelain throne. 

Hunched over, white knuckle grip on the base, his body shook as it forced up its stomach contents. At first it was just liquids then came his lunch and the rest of his breakfast. Though his body didn’t stop heaving and gagging, that wasn’t enough for Izuku even if he’d been in there for ten minutes already. It wasn’t enough, he needed more of a punishment, and the voice was starting to over take his limbs. ‘DO IT! DIE ALREADY!’ quickly gasping for breath Izuku went through his bookbag again, searching deep until he found his hidden compartment.

 Pulling out his pocket knife, taking off his uniform top he started cutting and carving. Slicing up his arms that used to have lots of meat to them before this whole hell started. The middle schooler went from his arms to his chest, then his thighs then covering up with his pants he cut up his waist. But as he started to press the blade he could hear static. Which became so loud that his vision blurred, and made him feel weak. Numb! Not weak, he couldn’t feel anything but the swirling in his head as static dulled his mind into nothingness. He could feel himself floating even if his body was falling onto his back and his vision was darkening to the point of seeing black.

Izuku had woken up in the hospital, but he didn’t know where he was for a second until his vision settled. He could smell the cleaning supplies of the cold hospital ICU room he was in, his feeling returned and he felt so sore and weak and sick. Dizziness made him rub his temples and groan which woke up the green haired lady who sleeps in the small chair next to his hospital bed. Her chair was opposite of the IV pole holding fluid bags that were injecting their contents into her son by the needles in his arm. Izuku noticed the IV lines in him, and that his body was bandaged up in certain places. He looked over to his mom tiredly who’d stirred and sat up. Her eyes opened to see her son’s dull sickly ones. “I-Izuku?” His hoarse voice replied back with a small tired smile. “Hi mom,” Izuku was quickly pulled into a strong embrace that had him gasping but it was a warm one that he’d needed. 

“You scared me Izuku, what were you doing at school? what caused you to do this Izuku?”  Izuku huffed and thought about how he should reply, should he tell her about the bullying or would she even believe him? Especially since it involved Kaachan. But then Inko gently held his hand and looked at him pleading as tears made Izuku melted. “Please Izuku, I need you to tell me, you need help.” “Mom, I’m too big, I’m fat, I need to lose weight.” Inko shook her head with a soft sniffle. “Izuku you’re not fat, you’re sick. You have Myostatin deficiency, you hardly had any fat on you to begin with.-” 

“I felt fat, I felt big, but I didn’t feel strong. I scare people away and attract those willing enough to tell me the truth...I’m fat mom. I’m a fat ugly loser don’t you get it mom. I wouldn’t live any longer, and I don’t if I can’t take the constant reminder from Kaachan and his friends-” That was his mistake, mentioning Kaachan, Inko’s expression changed to a raised brow. “Kaachan and his friends? Izuku has Katsuki been bullying you?” Izuku began to shake but he hadn’t noticed, what if Kaachan wanted revenge after this? What would he do? Remind him that he’s still a weak, fat, screw up who deserves to die!? Izuku couldn’t even do one thing right, he couldn’t even kill himself properly for crying out loud! His own set of tears started raining down his flushed pale cheeks. “Izuku!” Inko called out but her son was lost in the static that enclosed him and stuck him in the dark with his fears.

It was as if he couldn’t breath, he clutched his chest trying to take in breaths. His spit was cold as ice just like the rest of his body that trembled. Inko tried again and again until she grabbed him by the shoulders and held him. That seemed to do something, the static void began to echo a sound that slowly brought him from the dark, hearing his mother’s soft voice whispering sweetness to him. Gently rocking him back and forth eased him to some degree. “M-mom?” “Shhh honey please just relax.”

 It took awhile for him to calm down enough; it even brought the doctor in who looked happy seeing Izuku awake. “Ah hello young man, nice to see you’re awake. Ah Mrs Midoriya I need to talk to you privately please if that’s okay?” At first Inko wanted to stay with her son. “Doctor I’m sure that isn’t necessary” Then Izuku said “Mom, it's fine, go talk with him, maybe I can leave soon.” The doctor frowned at Izuku’s ideology but it did convince Inko to talk privately with the doctor. “Alright Izu, I’ll be back.” The two adults went out to the hall, closing the door Inko looked up to the man. 

“So doctor what is it?” “Mrs Midoriya, your son isn’t stable, he needs both medical and mental treatment. I’m 99.9% sure your son has an eating disorder, which mixed with his Myostatin deficiency, that’s a deadly combination that could kill him if he doesn’t get help.” Inko felt as if the man before her was being blunt but she knew the doctor was truthful. “S-so what do you suggest?” She was hesitant to ask nervous of his answer but, she wanted to help her son. “I think he needed to go to a mental hospital.” “wh-what, why can’t he just go to like a-a counselor or something?!” She asked anxiously “Because a standard counselor can’t observe him and watch him, help him with medication and stabilize him like a mental hospital staff can. Mrs Midoriya I understand that it can be scary to have Izuku so far away from you when he’s only 14, and he’s the only one you have but. Please think of your son’s mental state right now. He won't be around much longer if there isn’t proper professional intervention and treatment. I know you want what’s best for him don’t you right?” Inko took this information in and nodded, sighing she nodded. “Alright then what do we have to do?” The doctor and her discuss their plan for admitting Izuku to a psychiatric hospital, making phone calls and lists of what they will need and who they will need to talk to. It had been a while but now Inko knew she had to talk to one last person today….Izuku. Walking back to her son’s hospital room she sees him playing with the blanket that lays across his lap. “Hey Izuku!” His dark sunken eyes peer up at her. “Oh h-hi mom, how did the talk with the doctor go?” His eyes went back down away from his mother’s gaze. “Can I go home?” Inko sat next to him in her chair and sighed. “U-Um Izuku about that, y-you may not be coming home for a while honey.” Izuku raised a confused brow, he adjusted how he sat and looked at her again. 

“what do you mean mom?” “Well Izuku, you’re a danger to yourself and a regular counselor won't be able to do the things that you need to be better so. You’re going to be going to a Mental health hospital-” “no.” Furrowing her brows Inko questioned back “No? Izuku I know that you’re struggling to see this but please, you’re not healthy like this honey.” “No, you’re just going to abandon me. You’re ashamed over me aren’t you?” Inko felt so hurt that her son would think that but, she had to try and put herself in his shoes mentally. He wasn’t thinking clearly, yet he was, he was having valid concerns for someone with his mental state of being.

 “N-no sweetie I’m not ashamed of you, I’m not abandoning you. I-I..” She reaches to gently hold his cold slender hands “I just want you to get better, I want my Izuku back, the one who would run around and play outside, who would laugh and giggle who wouldn’t sleep the day away and vomit his food back up. I will do whatever it takes to help you Izuku and I know that you can’t see that you’re sick but please...If not for yourself, do it for me, please.” Her voice broke as she tried to hold off from sobbing and breaking down. She just wanted to see Izuku smiling, running around playing, not giving up and wanting to die. Izuku looked away and grumbled out “will you write me letters, visit me, or call me?” “If it's possible I will Izuku I promise.” “......I really don’t even have a choice in this do I?” Inko looked away nodding quietly “when will i go?” “In four days you’ll be discharged from this hospital, and will be taken to the mental hospital.” “Alright then” He says, turning away from the petite green haired women, laying on his side, he pulls the blanket over his face. Inko huffed and gently carded her fingers through Izuku’s hair that started to shed in some places due to the lack of nutrition.

“I-I’m so sorry Izuku” Her soft voice shook as she continued her soothing tactile method from her chair.

[oveliagirlhaditright]

Swallow Part 2

My idea for a Kingdom Hearts IV–that will eventually have all that entails, like Shibuya and Verum Rex and Sora’s PoV–but that deals with the idea of a dark Kairi after everything she’s been through, because this girl deserves to be allowed to feel things. First chapter is from the TV show “Angel the Series”–as it’s Fox and Disney owns Fox now–but you don’t have to know Angel to get it.

Madness Surprisingly enough, it hadn’t been Kairi’s idea for her to train like it was the only thing she had left in the world. It had been Riku’s—as many things in her and Sora’s life had started out with him—as he had thought that she should actually try and do something and have less reason to hate herself that way. “But is that… really a good idea?” Kairi had asked him when he’d suggested it, as she’d sat on the paopu tree—the stupid place she had lost Sora at—and worked on making more lucky charms for him and letters, on the off-chance that one of them would work and bring her boy back to her. “Riku… maybe I just was never cut out for fighting. Sora paid a high price in bringing me back. Do you really think I should dishonor his sacrifice by putting myself into even more danger that I can’t handle?” Riku had looked like he wanted to push Kairi into the water beneath them then—and honestly, she could have hardly blamed him even if he had; she’d been so weak then, and she was ashamed to think of it now—and got right into her face as he said, “That’s not the girl who said she wanted to fight like me and Sora, so we wouldn’t be the only ones getting hurt… or who said that she was tired of getting left behind and that ‘wherever one of us goes, the other follows’. Kairi… you made all of these promises to Sora before the Keyblade Graveyard. Do you really want to go back on them now?” No, she hadn’t. That was the last thing in the world that she would have ever wanted. But the person she’d been a few months ago—who had said so much of that stuff—was so different from the girl she was now. That Kairi had gotten a Keyblade into her hand for the first time and had thought that with just a little training, she would easily become as strong as Sora and Riku were. That wasn’t the part of her that had gotten training and still couldn’t get her body to cooperate… and had had to realize that most of her worst nightmares might actually come true, as Terra-Xehanort had charged at her. And they had come true after that. Oh, how they had. Kairi had had one brief moment of peace and pride in herself—when she had kept Sora from fading away, that had then allowed him to save everyone else—but then it had all gone to hell, like so much of Kairi’s life had, and she didn’t know if she wanted to go there again. “Kairi, the problem is we had you train with someone who isn’t a Keyblade wielder at all… And is actually someone who uses his magic to stay away from enemies, when you—in pretty much using a sword—would be in close contact with people. That was our fault, not yours… I’ll properly train you now, so you never have to feel so horrible again. Just let me.” And that was what started it. Many hours a day—eight or more, as if they were working a full-time job and in Kairi’s eyes they were—Riku was training Kairi in the hours that they weren’t looking for any hint as to Sora’s whereabouts. And while it started out rough, and Kairi had continued to think that maybe she should just work on her light magic because of it, she steadily got better and better and even she could see it—it was nothing like what she had encountered with Merlin and Lea. It was actual tangible progress that she could see in her scars and feel in her muscles. And Kairi took it even further than that. She didn’t tell Riku or anyone about this because she didn’t want to worry them, but in the hours when she should have been sleeping or resting, she would do the familiar drills again until they were completely beaten into her. And then she was taking the gummi ship that Mickey had thankfully left for her and Riku out into the ocean between worlds, to find Heartless or Nobodies to fight: something that didn’t help her that much, because Kairi had been able to handle these just fine in the Keyblade War, but every little bit of actual experience helped. And she’d just hoped against hope that on her journeys she could run into some Darksides or Twilight Thorns, and how happy she was—the first time she’d been remotely that in ages—when she did, and began handling them better and better: with little injuries and destruction to her hair and outfits. And at one point—when Kairi had unintentionally taken a page out of Roxas, Xion, and Lea’s book—and had bested five giant Heartless in one night, she had finally felt good about herself… and that nothing could ever happen to her again. She wouldn’t let it. And that furthermore, she knew that she was going to find Sora and bring him home. But it was just when she was beginning to feel great, that such a feeling of euphoria didn’t last. Kairi heard a Corridor of Darkness open from behind her in Twilight Town—a sound she’d made certain she always knew now, as not being able to recognize it with Xemnas before had led to her death—and who would come out of it but someone cloaked in an Organization robe? Of course. Kairi had backed away from her assailant, growling at them as she prepared to send Firaja after Firaja after them. But first, she’d had to berate them a little bit. “You have got to be kidding! I thought the lot of you had been defeated in the Keyblade War. All that we did—which- which led to Sora’s death—was so we could defeat any of you who would survive to try and get the X-Blade again. So, who are you?! And are you at all connected to Sora’s fate?! Do you know where he is?! Tell me!” “Tsk tsk, little princess,” the attractive voice of a man replied—as he motioned with his hands that Kairi should calm down, in the way that Master Yen Sid often told the Keyblade wielders of the new generation to sit down. “It’s… good that you’re so strong now. Go, you! But don’t you know you’re killing yourself? So much sleep deprivation isn’t a good thing. And I know you’re not eating or drinking much, either. You’re going to be dead as a doornail soon, and your boyfriend’s going to come back to see that he sacrificed himself for you for nothing… or worse. That you’ve become a different person from the girl he loved… There’s blood on your hands now, isn’t there Kairi?” Kairi had wanted to deny this, of course. After all, she’d only been fighting Heartless and Nobodies and that was something that needed to be done! But at the same time… she knew that they had once been human, and the thought made her violently sick on the inside. But even more than that… she was hunting the things as sport now, whereas everyone else had only ever fought the beasts when they’d attacked them on their adventures… and she enjoyed killing them too much. And she kept score, the way Sora and Riku once had with their fighting. Every injury she got was a point against her, but each hurt she gave them was a point for her: especially if she could give them many of those without being touched at all. Kairi wasn’t trying to be quick or end their suffering fast at all, but to just use them as target practice as long as she could. And while Kairi hadn’t yet fought another human since the War, she worried that she would do the same when she faced them because it was such a routine now. Sora had only ever told her stories about how Clayton had wanted to kill the gorillas, but Kairi thought that if she herself ever run into him somehow… she’d fight him the way she was now Heartless, and be thrilled for it—that the fear he’d struck in Terk’s heart she could put in his. So, she was falling. Falling into darkness, it seemed… and this man had known this, and it had been only the start for her. “What do you know about it?!” Kairi had demanded then, furious. Throwing her hand out to the side in a way that Sora had used to when he glared at his enemies. “You know nothing. You don’t know me at all! You’re just a forgotten relic from a cause that’s already seen its best day. Now just tell me what you know and get lost, before I-” “Before you what, Kairi?” the voice had cut her off. And there was a sweet cadence in his voice that she hated, as if he’d talked to someone like her before and was trying to be a friend since he’d  apparently cared about this other person. “Do something unseemly to me and make Sora hate you even more that way? He loves his little light princess—that’s why he fights for you so much—so what do you think he’s going to do when he comes back and sees you aren’t like that at all anymore? Do you think he’ll stay the knight in shining armor, or will he move onto something bigger and better? “You’re also angry. So angry. And, hey: I applaud you for it—you’re entitled to those emotions, and I may even have use of them—but Sora preferred the sweet and loving little girl, not the one who’s going to get called to many worlds because of her fury now.” Furious? Was she really furious? Kairi had asked herself. She hadn’t felt it at the time—if torn between “bloodlust” and “fury”, she definitely had thought she was more bloodlust at the time—but the Kairi of the present could recognize how her blood had boiled back then, and continued to do so now. But having not liked what this man had said about her getting pulled into an adventure all about her madness—because that wasn’t her at all—Kairi had tried to backtrack a little. “Maybe… maybe I’ve been a little hard on you. You haven’t really done anything to me. Perhaps if anything, you’re just giving me some… helpful advice. And I guess you don’t have to be with Organization XIII... I know a Moogle has worn the coat before, I mean, and clearly they weren’t one of Xehanort’s vessels. So can you just tell me who you are, and what you wa-” “And how easily you fall back into the Naminé routine. Kairi, did you ever think that maybe the two of you were split for a reason? You may be the Princess of Heart… but you have far more fire to you than your Other did, and there’s a reason for it and you should relish it—you must do so—even if it means you can’t have Sora. You must let him go. Can’t you see that?” This had put Kairi in a horrible mood, and she’d cried. But not because she was sad, but because she waslivid—maybe this man was right about that—as it hit the nail on the head too much on how she’d been feeling lately: that fate was keeping her and Sora from being together. So Kairi made a decision. “Perhaps… perhaps you’re right. Perhaps I should go back to just barely training from now on, and be who I once was. And I will. I won’t fall into your plan, and I’ll be what Sora wants me to be.” And partly to spite the man, Kairi had opened a Corridor of Light—something Master Yen Sid had taught her how to do—and left the guy alone. And she did try to make good on her promise to herself. But it never could’ve worked.. For far too long, Kairi had repressed her feelings… and she was done with that. And she had no idea that trying to force herself to do that again, would send her spiraling over the edge. Author’s Note: I was originally going to have more than just a flashback in this chapter… but since it ended up pretty long, I think I WILL cut it here. Maybe it’ll even work better to have flashbacks and present stuff in different chapters. IDK. But I hope you all enjoyed!

[that-nonbinary-ass]

Stars

I got the inspiration from an avengers oneshot

Have some patton angst

1 year before death 

Dear diary: I believe that stars shine brighter when your about to die i had always believed that, but now that i am actually closer to death then ever before, nothing could be more true

Only 2 days ago i found out that i have an undiscovered disease that could kill me very soon if they don't find a cure. I have surprisingly come to terms and accepted the fact that I might die, it's not like I want to die, but I guess there is no way to avoid it, I just have to hope that they find a cure so i don't have to die 

I'm not going to tell anyone yet, not until its definite that im going to die or not. I really hope I don't die because virgil (my boyfriend) his mum died the other day and I don't want to hurt him even more

The doctors don't know how fast this disease will kill me or how fast its spreading

Patton~ 

11 months before death    

Dear diary: The doctors haven't said anything about my illness yet, but that's fine, I believe they are doing their best!

I think the others notice i'm acting more secretive lately, i need to learn how to act better. Every time they come up to me and ask what's wrong i just assure them that i'm all good 

Is it good to lie to them? Am I being mean by not telling them? Or am i just sparing their feelings?

Patton~ 

9 months before death 

Dear diary: The doctors still haven't said anythig but im not giving up hope, I believe they can do it 

I think ive finally managed to convince the others that i'm fine because they have stopped asking me but they do have this weird look in their eyes when they see me 

Me and virgil went on a date last night and we had loads of fun. We went bowling then we went to the super fancy restaurant across the road then  we went to the arcade and played games till about 2am. I don't think im going to tell him yet ...I don't want to hurt him

Patton~ 

8 months before death 

Dear diary: I refuse to give up hope, so what if the doctors haven't gotten back to me yet, maybe they're still too busy with the medicine, but I am having doubts, I want to believe that they are trying to help me.

The others are starting to get worried about me but I always tell them to not worry, they don't believe me though, I think their thinking of getting me to the doctor to see whats wrong. I don't know what to do because I don't want them to know, I don't want them to pity or treat me any differently then I am now.

Now days my gut always feels weird, like im always sick, it's a little worrying but i have to push through and look after my kiddos and boyfriend 

It's a bit like acting now, i always have to act ok, like my gut isn't telling me to stop what im doing. Oh well, I hope the doctors find a cure soon

Patton~ 

6 months before death 

Dear diary:  Things are starting to get bad, it has gotten harder to breath and i now have blood patches showing up on my skin on my stomach, I always feel like im going to throw up and it's making it really hard to sleep at night. I went to the doctors to ask what's happening, they said that my stomach was internally bleeding and that they are trying really hard to find a cure. I really hope they do because i'm getting really scared, i don't want to die 

I’ve started going out at night and looking up at the stars just admiring their beauty. Any day now feels like my last day, and that just makes me appreciate the memories more, i try not to cry but it's so hard, the thought of leaving life and making your loved ones hurt, its heartbreaking 

I still haven't told anyone, i don't want to worry them but i will have to soon because i don't want to die and them not to know how i did

Patton~ 

4 months before death

Dear diary:  Everything has gotten hard. breathing, eating, sleeping, talking and even walking, it sucks, i think i might tell someone soon. They all know there is something wrong with me. I've got blood patches all over my skin i am always sleep deprived and pale.

I think i’ll tell virgil, i know that he is the most anxious but i trust him the most, he is my boyfriend after all

It's all very scary. Not knowing what will happen. What it's like after you die, i feel like i've given up hope on the cure. I should just accept death and move on, but I can't, it's not that easy, i wish it was though 

Patton~ 

2 months before death 

Dear diary: I told them all a month ago. I told virgil first he sat there and stared off into space with constant tears in his eyes and traveling down his face, he looked so heartbroken. After about 3 minutes he tackled me into a hug and sobbed into my shirt 

I told roman next he instantly started sobbing and hugging me. He kept telling me he didn't want me to go. I told him I didn't either but it was inevitable.

I told logan last, he looked at me and did the unexpected he started crying. The emotionless logan started crying. He hugged me and told me that they will all look after me until the final day 

It makes me feel so happy that they are all there for me 

After I told them all we went out and layed on the grass looking at the stars talking about past memories and how it all changed. I eventually fell asleep outside with them 

Patton~

1 month before death 

Dear diary: I am basically bed-ridden. I can hardly walk anymore and i makes me so sad that I have to rely on the others to do my things for me 

Nowadays I'm always in pain. Just moving my arm up brings me immense pain, like someone is repeatedly stabbing my arm or burning it over a naked flame. It's not fair what did I do to deserve this? Nothing that's what. The universe is just cruel. Making people go through pain any form of pain is mean 

The doctors said that they won’t be able to find the cure fast enough to give it to me and let me live they said they were very sorry. Them telling me that put it all into perspective. I'm going to die. And that fact is absolutely terrifying. I cry myself to sleep each night because im that scared 

Patton~  

Death day

Dear diary… Today is the day, I can feel it. I'm going to die today. I've gone back and marked the dates of my previous entries, I've written my goodbye notes and im now ready to go with the people I love around me I have accepted the fact that I will die. But it won't be a peaceful death. It's going to be painful, well i think it is because thats what im feeling right now, pain, more then ever before, it feels like my body is being ripped open and chopped into tiny pieces and i can feel it all. Its torture.

So here I lie under the stars with all my loved ones watching them as they sparkled in the sky. I felt my end coming closer as i watched on and i can prove the theory that stars do shine brighter as your about to die.

They looked like a million little fireflies in the sky and it was hypnotizing making me forget everything that has happened over the past year, if only for a second.

If you're logan roman or virgil reading this after I die. Just remember i love you so so much 

Goodbye

Patton~ 

Virgil finished reading patton's diary and he felt so empty. it's been a whole year since patton had past and he was going through his old stuff when he stumbled across patton's diary, he read it and felt so bad, he didn't know the pain patton was going through, he hid it well, tears fell down his face as he thought of all the good times they had together, all the late night cuddles, all the cookies and baking lessons, everything and virgil missed it all, pattons smile, his laugh, the way he stumbled over his words when he was nervous. But he was gone and he couldn't bring him back, no matter how hard he tried.

He closed the book and put it back in the box, got up and went outside and curled up in patton’s sweater and fell asleep under the stars, thinking that patton was up there watching over him, like his own guardian angel. 

But all he wanted was patton back 

But The universe doesn't always give you what you want.

[shittyfandomimagines]

Appendicitis

Word count: 2,109

Angstsy with a little fluff.

(GIF creds to owner)

“You denied my FaceTime call.” I could basically hear the pout in Luke’s voice. “Yeah, I just don’t look good right now.” Well, it wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth. “Pft, you can look amazing in a trash bag for all I care.” Luke sounded slightly annoyed but mostly joking.

I didn’t want him to see what room I was in because it definitely wasn’t our house, the last thing I need is for Luke to ask a thousand different questions.

Two days ago, I had a huge ass pain in my side. Turns out I have a chronic appendix that I never knew was chronic, so the pain hit me like a 2-ton truck and basically, I passed out. Then, I got a concussion from passing out and now I’m waiting for my head to get better before they can do the surgery. I have bruises all over my face and arms from hitting the floor and the last thing Luke needs to see before a show is his girlfriend filled with bruises and in a hospital bed.

“You’ve been acting weird for the past 2 days, is there something I should be worried about?” He asks and I could tell he was overly worried. “Nope, just been getting shit-faced drunk every night and out partying.” I joke and I hear him scoff. “Yeah, really funny.” He says and I scrunch up my face a little. “It was a joke, it’s not like that’s not what you guys do every night after a show. What would be any different if I was doing it?” I ask and I really didn’t mean for a joke to go this far.

“Well, you hardly drink and I can imagine that getting drunk would elude that something is wrong. Are you mad at something or someone?” He asks like he’s searching for an answer. “Luke, I said that I’m not even getting drunk. I literally don’t understand how you can’t take a joke.” I sigh and brush my fingers through my hair.

“Y/n, I can take a joke and on most days I know that you’re joking. You’re just acting really fucking weird. Is it okay for me to be concerned for you? Or is that asking for too much?” He snaps and I roll my eyes. “Yeah, it’s a lot to ask for since you never cared beforehand. You hardly call me Luke, so it’s not that big of a deal now that you’re actually on the phone.” I fumed and I heard him sigh on the other side.

“Are you sure that you’re okay?” He asks and I groan. “Yes Luke, I’m fine,” I say and he starts moving around on the other end of the line. “We play Atlanta in an hour and then we have a few days break before Nashville, so I’ll probably not come home.” He says, I finally realized that was what he wanted to avoid and tried to make a scene over it. Luckily for me, I didn’t have to let him know I was in a hospital.

“Goodbye, Luke,” I mumble after a short and quiet period. “Bye, I love you.” He says and I tried to smile. “I love you too.” I end the call and put my phone down beside me on the bed.

“Miss Y/L/N, it’s time for your pain medicine.” The nurse that I actually like says as she knocks quietly. “Thank god, my head is pounding,” I admit and her face contorted, she looked worried now. “Not from my concussion but from a personal life thing, I’m not gonna die. Promise.” I add and I see relief flood her.

“You seem lonely in here.” She says cautiously, putting something on my IV hook. “Yeah, but I’m used to being alone at home so this is no different,“ I mumble as I twirl the engagement ring on my finger. I loved the ring, but sometimes I felt like it took up too much space on my finger.

“No family around?” She asks and I nod. “My parents live very far away and my fiancé travels a lot, it’s usually just me and Petunia, our dog,” I explain and she gives me a sympathetic smile. “But there is one girl who visits every day at the same time, isn’t there?” She asks and I nod.

“That’s Louisa, she is my friend who took me to the hospital, she gets off work and comes to see me. I was lucky enough that I woke up and called her, if not I’d probably be dead on my floor.” I admit and she just nods. I honestly had to beg Louisa not to call Luke, I didn’t want him to drop tour and fly to be with me. I couldn’t do that to the fans.

“Well, on a higher note; the doctor reviewed your case this afternoon and thinks it’s time for your appendix to come out. It’s only going to get worse and since your head is getting better, we need to get the appendix out.” She says and I nod. “So, when do I have to stop eating?” I ask and she looks at her watch.

“It’s 6:30, so you have till 12. Do you want me to get you any snacks from the nurses' station?” She asks and I shake my head. “I’ll text my friend and ask her to pick me up some food,” I say and she nods. “Okay, I’ll leave you alone now. Bye girl.” She says and closes the door on the way out.

I quickly text my friend and then situate myself on the uncomfortable bed. I watch some reruns of I Love Lucy and eat some of the ice chips they put in my cup. “Knock knock.” Louisa’s voice catches my attention and I wave her in.

“It looked pretty lonely in here, I brought some balloons to cheer it up.” She said and put the balloons on the bedside table by the phone.

“Thanks, I’m sorry you had to stop and get some food. They say I’m having my appendix out tomorrow and I won’t be able to eat past midnight.” I explain and she nods, sitting beside me. “Well, it’s no problem. You’re in a hospital bed with a concussion and a fucked up appendix, the least I could do is stop by Subway.” She jokes and puts the sandwich in front of me.

“Well, I appreciate it,” I mumble and she tilts her head slightly. “You seem upset, I mean you have all the reasons to be, but you seem really down.” She voices and I nod my head. “Luke and we’re bickering, they have a couple days off after the show tonight and said he wouldn’t be coming home. I know I’ve asked you not to tell and I haven’t said anything, but it hurts to know he isn’t coming home regardless if I was sick. I know it’ll be a waste of a trip and it’ll make him unbelievably anxious over it, but I guess I still feel upset.” I twirl the ring so more and then I take it off.

“Woah, put the ring that costs more than my entire life back on your finger.” She warns and I laugh a little. “I’m not going to break up with Luke, I just want you to take it so they won’t lose it tomorrow during surgery.” I chuckle and she takes it like a child afraid of being scolded.

“Put it on your finger or something, I’ll get it back from you tomorrow night,” I say as she continued to be really cautious. “Holy fuck, this weights like thirty pounds.” She examines her finger and I was almost empty without it on me.

“It doesn’t weigh 30 pounds.” I laugh and she pulls her phone out of her pocket. “Oh god, the babysitter is calling. I’ve most likely got to be at home, so I love you so much. I’ll see you tomorrow night and if you need me to call off work, I’m here. I will not lose this gorgeous ring.” She kisses my cheek softly and sprints out the door, phone clutched by her ear.

I eat the rest of my sandwich and push the table away from me, I turn off the light above me and turn on my side. I started to look at my empty finger and my heart hurt (worse than my appendix), I really miss Luke and I wished that we never got into an argument about us so I could ask him to be here with me.

—

I hear sniffles and it wakes me up, well that and the pain in my stomach. I look down to see Luke’s curls sprawled across my arms, he was literally grasping my hand so tight.

“Luke?” I shove him a little and his head shoots up, his eyes were bloodshot. “You’re awake, I’m sorry. I know you need your sleep.” He wipes his eyes harshly and I just reach out for his hand.

“What are you doing here?” I ask and he gives me a look. “Well, let's start with the obvious fact that you’re laid across a hospital bed.” He sasses and I roll my eyes. “Let’s try this again, how did you find out?” I ask and honestly, I expected like a fan to have seen me come in and they posted it all over Instagram. “Louisa called me around 7:30 but it went to voicemail and then I got her text that said I needed to listen to the voicemail.” He explains with some more sniffles and I nod slowly. I knew she would pull this.

“What did her voicemail say?” I ask and he sighs deeply. “Y/n is in the hospital and has been for days, she has a bad concussion and will be going into surgery tomorrow to get her appendix out. Sorry, we both lied to you, thanks bye.” He repeats it and my eyes widen.

“I listened to it the whole plane ride here and it’s burned in my mind. I honestly thought you were like unresponsive- type of bad concussion. I was so fucking worried and then I thought of our small fight this afternoon and I felt worse because you were fighting to get better and I was literally making it worse. I’m such an asshole.” He groans and turns his head so I can’t see him cry. Even though he was profusely crying, I was happy to see him in person.

“Look at all of these bruises on you, maybe if I would have called you more often then you could’ve told me how your stomach had been feeling. Or that you decided to stop wearing the ring and that you probably hate the fact that I’m here right now.” He continues on and I didn’t even have the chance to reply by the time more words flowed out of his mouth.

“I honestly haven’t been a good fiancé and I’m so sorry.” He was sobbing by this point and wasn’t making any eye contact. “Luke.” I tug his arm and he keeps his head low. “Please, if you want me to go, I will.” He sniffles and I tug his arm again.

“C’mon, get up here you big dork. I want you to hold me.” I demand and he looks up quickly. “Really?” He sounded so hopeful and I nod, scooting over to make enough room for the giant. “Luke, the last thing I thought about when I fell asleep was that I wish you here and that we never argued. I’m sorry that I left you in the dust, but I knew you’d give up a lot of tour dates to be here. I didn’t want you to let the fans down.” I admit and he starts to make himself comfortable, he pushed a few hairs out of my eyes.

He was running his calloused thumb across my hand. “I gave my ring to Louisa because I didn’t want a nurse to lose it when I was in surgery. I promise that I still love you and I will put it back on the minute I’m out of surgery.” I tell him and he grins. “I’m sorry.” He says again and I shake my head.

“Hey, we’re both done with apologies now. Let’s just sleep because I need it and so do you.” I wrap my fingers around the ringlet curls in front of his eyes.

“I love you so much,” I whisper and kiss his cheek. “I love you more.”

[spacenerrrd]

Don’t Judge a Book by its Cover: Chapter 5

Sander Sides

Word count: 1,646

Characters: Patton/Creativity, Virgil/Anxiety, Patton/Morality, Logan/Logic

Warnings: Kinda a panic attack, please let me know if I've missed something xox

Summary: Logan runs a library in a small town, allowing him to share his love of books without feeling left out. His business partner and friend Roman helps by running the bright Disney themed cafe that attracts more people to stay for longer. The two clashing but somehow perfect match of a friendship went their days peaceful in their small community until one day a new pair of brother; Patton and Virgil, moved into town and showed the owners a new way of life.

Chapter five: Background

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4

~~~

Tap.

Logan's nails were neatly trimmed, looking identical aside from size, which meant the taps sounded almost musical as it went from deep to high pitched. Every time it was the same pattern, tapping quickly beside each other with exactly a second break before the taps started again. He knew his mother would be disappointed, she always thought tapping was as bad as biting nails. But he couldn't help it. It kept him grounding, being able to hear the constant echoing of the surface being disturbed because of him. That he affected something, that he really did do something and wasn't just existing. Learning also did the trick. Getting lost in a book where he could learn about anything and everything made him felt important, especially when it was about space. He didn't like people knowing though. He didn't want them to think he was weird or had a problem. He didn't want to be forced to think that he did it because of his problem like his father told him. This didn't work though, when he couldn't help himself to correct people when they got something wrong or to rant about space for 10 minutes when someone said something as simple as “star”. It made it even more obvious when someone corrected him. He never took criticism well. Especially when he was known as the library owner who can tell you exactly what happens in every single book lined up on the shelves or the tutor who can tell you the first two hundred numbers of pi without a breath. He clutches his hand into a fist and has to physically bite his tongue until it starts to bleed for him to not argue that he was actually right. His world starts to spin and make him sick as he excuses himself to go in the bathroom and sob. He is hardly functional for the rest of the day and he gets no sleep to practice and practice and revise and revise what he got wrong to make sure it never happened again. Roman was the only person around who knew what happens when he got something wrong. He hated people thinking he had something wrong because he didn’t want anyone to think of him as anything different to the knowledge he was. So he tapped his fingers away to keep himself grounded when he couldn’t learn, to not lash out with the emotions he spent so long to keep buried. He tapped away to make sure no one would be able to know anything was wrong, to get rid of his worries through his fingertips, hoping the item being abuse by them would absorb his emotions.

Currently, he was tapping away as he was worried about Lucy. She had come in earlier than usual and went to grab a book that instantly turned Logan’s worries on. With the book Alice In Wonderland in her grasp, she sat down in the farthest corner of the library and hid her face behind it as she started to read. Logan knew that pose. It meant she wasn’t ready to talk about what happened. He couldn’t leave her though. He needed to keep an eye on her, especially when he saw the beaten knuckles holding tightly onto the book and the tears that covered her cheeks when she lowered the book slightly. He was standing there, waiting for the moment where she would put the book down and want someone with her. He needed to make sure he was there for her when it happened. Without knowing it, Logan had taken up a father figure in Lucy’s life and he needed to make sure he protected her at all costs.

“My golly Lo, what did the shelf do to deserve such a harsh beating from your fingers?”

Logan jumped, taking a step back from the shelf. He already could feel the ground leaving his feet as he couldn’t tap anymore. He cleared his throat, making sure no evidence that anything was wrong. “Nothing. I was merely standing here and tapping my fingers. Is there a problem with that?”

“Well of course not! It’s just that you look kinda lost.” Patton’s voice was full of worry and concern, which a friend was suppose to do when your face was becoming more pale by the second as stuff started to spin around you. But Logan just wasn’t use to having a friend yet.

“I, no I’m fine, I just… I need to go to… I got to-” he turned to Lilly but saw Roman already holding her as she seemed way calmer than before.

Wow, you can't even take care of her.

Can you do anything right?

Honestly you should just give up.

“Lo, what’s going on? Can I help?”

“Patton, no, stop!” Logan shouted at him, leaving Patton as well as the other two who heard in the corner as he ran off through the shelves.

Patton stood there, shocked and confused and feeling guilty. He didn’t notice he had started crying until Roman placed a hand on his shoulder and snapped him out of it.

“It’s been a long week for him. It’s not your fault though, I’m sure he’ll tell you soon.” Roman spoke softly, getting a small nod in response. “Come on, we’re going to read some Alice In Wonderland.” Roman walked Patton over to Lucy who was sitting in the bean bag corner. She looked up and gave a soft smile to Patton, it looking a bit strange with the tear stains on her cheek. They all sat down together, the sounds of their breathing and her broken voice reading the sixth chapter of the book calmed them all down.

Roman was doing a final check around the library before closing up. He had sent Lucy and Patton home, of course not before getting a flirt line in with Virgil and was cleaning the stray books from the shelves. Even though he assumed that no one was here, he knew that Logan would somehow find out that he didn’t check and he would rather not get in trouble by an agitated Logan in the morning. The door creaked as he opened it and when the sound of sobs filled his ears he realised that he didn’t see Logan leave earlier. He walked in properly and saw a pair of glasses, smashed like they had been thrown against the wall. He looked across to see Logan collapsed, slouched with puffy red eyes. Streams and streams of tears stained his cheeks and his hair was a mess. It looked like he tried to take off his tie but left it hanging loosely around his neck. “Oh god Logan.” Roman rushed to his side. “Can I touch you?”

Logan nodded, collapsing against him. He seemed almost dead, shallow breathing with tears silently falling. He didn’t reciprocate the hug that Roman gave him, he just needed to embrace the warmth that Roman gave off. Trying to follow Roman’s breathing, his eyes were starting to give into the exhaustion and he fell asleep.

Logan woke up. Feeling exhausted and eyes stinging whenever he tried to open them, he felt around to find himself in his own bed. Confused to how he got there, he picked up his phone to hope that Roman texted him about what happened. His breath got caught in his throat when the time read 3:46. He immediately opened his messages to text yell at Roman until he saw he already have a text from him.

‘dont flip your shit, ive got the library under control’ ‘i told the students you wouldnt be in but theres probably someone you want to explain some stuff 2’ ‘he was really worried’

Logan sighed, laying on his bed and thinking. Patton didn't deserve to be yelled at yesterday. He didn't mean to, he's just never had someone who….cared so much. Roman was the only exception, and he hated how he wanted Patton to know about him and cared. He hated it because he was starting to care for the man in the glasses and grey cardigan and his little brother. Logan groaned and got out of bed, throwing the most, and only, casual clothes he had. Leaving in sweats and a non professional hoodie, by the time he walked he arrived at the library it was already 4:57. Cursing himself for not being efficient with time, he open the door to run straight into someone's chest. “I apologize, I was thinking about- oh.” He looked up to see Patton staring at him with a smile.

“Hey Lo, I was so worried about you yesterday! Virgil knows, I was so scared something bad happened!” Logan looked around to see Virgil trying to hide his flustered face; Roman must've gotten to him again.

“Yes, I....I'm sorry about yesterday. I was wondering if….you wanted to stay after closing so we can….talk and 'hang out’ per say.”

Patton gasped. “I would LOVE that! We can watch movies and eat snacks and I'm sure Virgil will love to spend some more time with Ro!”

“Shut it.”

Logan actually smiled a little bit. “Well, I guess if you'll come in then, we can 'hang’ until it closes so we can, um, watch movies.”

They all sat in the bean bag corner, Mulan being projected against the wall. Roman was whispering stuff to Virgil that either made him giggle or go completely red and try to curl deeper into his hoodie. Logan leant against Patton's shoulder, not needing to reciprocate the side hug that he was given because Patton understood now. “Thank you….for staying.”

Patton smiled down at him. “Why would I leave? I love hanging with you.”

Logan smiled back. “I like hanging with you too.” He put his hand on Patton's leg and started to move his fingers.

Tap.

~~~

Sorry this took so long guys! I’ve been having kinda a hard time but now I’m on holidays so I should be able to get a new chapter (maybe) out soon!!

Next chapter

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[bloodypeachblog]

MEDICAL UPDATE

Warning: this post will discuss stuff about kidney stones, urine, medical prep, body functions, that kind of stuff. If that stuff grosses you out, you have been warned.

Ok so you remember when I said a while back that I had kidney stones? No? Well, long story short, I had 3 of em. Anyways..

A few weeks ago, I felt what I believe was a stone moving, so I told my mom and we set up a plan: take the remaining tamsulosin i had from the last stone [the date was still good] and call my doctor.

Later on, one night, I was lying in bed sleeping and I then feel something akin to trying to push something through a hole but it got stuck. The next few days, I started having pains in the lower belly area and where my bladder is.

Then the dry-heaving began. It was time to go to the doctor.

The appointment comes, doc has me do a urine test, it came out normal. But he did think something was going on, so he scheduled an IVP and ultrasound to check things out.

Well, today was that day. And yes, I had to do prep. Which was the worst pain I've ever experienced, and I've had an oblong kidney stone go through me.

Let me just say this: you should NOT fuck around with magnesium citrate. That shit is so nauseatingly sweet that you will gag or feel sick at even thinking about it afterwards. Plus it BURNS going down. Also, by any means, DO NOT DRINK IT WHILE IN A MOVING VEHICLE. (My mom was looking after my grandma, so they picked me up to go to her house since itd be a shorter trip to the hospital).

(A side note, I had to do a clear liquid diet after I took the magnesium, so I felt so envious when I saw my mom and grandma eat solid food. The broth I drank tasted like Lipton's Noodle Soup, so it did help fake fullness).

And you thought the entry of the magnesium drink was bad, wait til you hear about the exit. It BURNS. You will be ABSOLUTELY RAW. You will cry. I sure did. It stings because the liquid coming out of you is the magnesium citrate, which is a saline solution. Saline, for those of you who don't know, is salt water. SALT WATER ON RAW SKIN. Now you can imagine the pain.

Also, my grandma's house has no AC whatsoever, at least upstairs where I slept (I had to sleep there because the room I had was the closest to the bathroom). I'm also heat sensitive, so that mixed with dehydration was not a fun time. When I fell asleep, I woke up thinking I was dead because I could hardly move. But that's my fault for taking my regular meds along with a Unisom gelcap. But I couldn't sleep well because of my constant bathroom trips and the constant burning from what I said before.

Now, the actual appointment. We get there, got me signed in, and I'm taken to the ultrasound room. The lady was very nice and friendly, but when she scanned me with the scanner and she pushed down, OH GOD THE PAIN. I think it hurt more because my body was still tender from the prep, I was very tired, and I'm sensitive to pain, so I'm not blaming the woman. She was just doing her job. But I was ready to scream. Luckily it wasnt long til it was done.

Then after that, i was sent back for my IVP. What they do is, they have you in nothing but your underwear, shoes, socks, and a hospital gown and you have to lay on this table under what looks like a sci-fi machine but is basically an x-ray machine. And they put an IV in you to inject a contrast dye so they can see everything clearer. Now I've always had difficulty with IVs and getting blood drawn because of my deep veins (it's genetic!), but the lady that did it was a champ, it barely even hurt. But the tourniquets were SHEER PAIN. After all of that though, it was smooth sailing. Some re-positioning, some more pics, a few standing pics, then we were done.

After that, I was finally able to eat and go home and sleep. Guys, food is a great thing. So is sleep.

I'm starting to recover and I'm doing better than before. My next appointment with my urologist is on the 6th, so we'll see what they find.

Anywho, that's that. Imma sleep now.

[becauseyoureahumanbeing]

Welcome to my brain....

i wrote this one night when i was not really all with-it.... i was sad and feeling a bit numb and i just let the words flow out as they came.... the real thoughts... its a bit of a ramble but that seems to be what happens when you just let the words tumble out.  i glimpsed over it for obvious spelling errors (not grammar/not caps or lower case ect) but otherwise left it untouched from how i typed it on Notepad on my computer

Here you go!

Sometimes i really dont know what im doing with myself... i feel like im sleep walking. i feel like im sleeping. i feel like a zombie some days. i dont want to see people or deal with them after work. it sounds exhausting. like too much effort. im too tired. id rather just sit alone and watch a show or sleep.... but then im lonely too. all the time. not aching lonely all the time... but just faded. like a fog clinging to my mind "you dont really have a person... you dont have anyone person that you trust everything with.. can say absolutely anything too"  not even as friends.... im so exhausted with holding pieces of myself back from people... im so tired of not being myself, being withdrawn, scared, admitting it is a little over whelming... im so tired of trying to hide from people that i am how i am. .... playing to people... i feel like ill never find love... not truly... not honestly.. not committed...not real. im getting worn out on telling myself im a good person. im a great friend. a good daughter. a nice person.... worth it. i know all these things.... im tired of hearing them... because i dont always feel them. i dont always feel very much at all sometimes... i just feel numb and empty, bored and restless, content but wanting. happy enough but sad a lot. fairly accomplished and mostly defeated most days. forcing myself to do things i dont feel like doing is nearly impossible most of the time... i have hardly any motivation on my own. if i dont need to do it in order to get something i want bad enough, if i didnt pay money to do it, make money doing it, get to see family or friends while doing it.... im probably not doing it on my own. even some things i know would be fun, but usually chores or things around the house... super basic adulting that arent life critical but are obviously high importance for common sense reasons. need plates to eat on, not usually... but need utensils usually no matter what.... so why have i not washed a dish, besides a random spoon to eat ice-cream with, in well over a month? wet blankets and towels sitting in my basement for weeks... i just washed 3 of them last night... after my mom had to wash one whole pile just to get it out of her way and because she was sick of knowing it was there and i wasnt doing it....... my house only recently got vacuumed after months because i went out of town and my mom did it in the midst of repainting most of my main floor. because she loves me and shes a saint... piles of clothes perched or on the floor in various spots of my room that were clean, are clean, are dirty, need to be washed.... i do at least keep up on laundry enough to keep me in clean clothes... but the stray, not every day, pieces are scattered everywhere.... my table isnt as bad, organized by my mom also while i was out of town... i refuse to vacuum or clean my futon/couch cushion... so its basically been turned over to my dog and im breaking my back in a swing chair as i type. ... i need to buy a real vacuum. i need to do my dishes. i need to wash every article of clothing not clearly clean and throw it away or put it away. i need to do way too many things.... and ultimately im a mess... i feel like one anyway... at times ive felt crazy, ridiculous, overwhelming. terrified to scare someone away... really thats only with guys... ive developed anxiety and a big spike for it happens with guys... but since ive recognized it ive been able to curb it a good deal. be rational and think through my own thoughts and actions and realize if im being silly or if i need to re-approach. ... sometimes my damage is done though... ive over done it. thrown it to the wind and ruined a connection... then im back to feeling like an idiot, confused at whats wrong with me and wondering why no one stays... im too much. crazy in those moments. even for myself. those are my breakdown moments... my call mom, phone a friend, cry in my bed or scream in the car moments... the moments i feel the most lost at times... they start up the sad feelings, the lonely feelings.... the empty feeling that leads to the numbness and pretending i feel okay enough for the day... by the end of each day though i know, i remember that im lost right now, im wandering. im scrambling under water, in slow motion...

in short i have no idea what im doing with myself.... in long... i feel like a dazed, depressed, procrastinating, stressed out, lonely, but somehow convincing myself im content, 26 year old girl... who can be mostly happy, but is almost always sad...  and i am found wanting... constantly. welcome to my brain.

6/22/18

[lilbitofdevilinthoseangeleyes]

i feel like a completely different person than when I came

and all it took was the same old behavior out of him, to make me feel like this, even from afar.

i always knew leaving him wouldn’t be a breath of fresh air

it’d hurt just as bad as everytime he’s shown I wasn’t enough

it’d hit every soft spot in me like a truck

it’d go straight to my worth.

because I loved him unlike I ever allowed myself or felt to love the last. Uncontrollably. Unhealthily. There’s always been a spark in my chest for him I knew was dangerous.

He took me on like a challenge, just to realize it was too difficult for the reward after all.

I just really wish he hadn’t disregarded the effort I made to advocate for my brain. & how bad of a place it is. just to add the extra layer of heartbreak to it all.

im doing everything i need to for me

& still feel fucking worthless

because fuck, that was my favorite future i ever imagined. & one of the only that’s really broke my heart like this to lose.

anybody that knows me knows how easy it is for me to step away from a relationship.

he’s seen it. everyone has.

yet here I am, getting constant check-ins from my family. because they know it’s different this time. it’s deeper. they’ve never seen this out of me, but are all too familiar with it from my mom. i should’ve known, men don’t change. i set aside every lesson ive taught myself to love him, just to have those lessons rebranded.

he broke me down to the point I can’t fucking function with or without him

& somehow acts like the moment im in the clear I’ll run around finding my choice of men as if my choice wasn’t him.

as if i am not sick to my stomach 24/7, hardly able to think clear enough to even talk. he’s gotten the angry side of it, after I’ve fought & fought to feel okay all day. but he hasn’t seen me struggle to catch my breath for 3+ hours. he hasn’t seen me bawl through shower after shower trying to get my chest to open up & my back to just relax a little. he hasn’t felt how sore my body gets from the panic attacks. the flash backs they give me. the brutal headaches I get after every muscle in my body has been tensed all day. the barely being able to eat after not realizing how hard I was clenching my jaw all day/night. he’s simply never seen the true reality of what this has done to me, other than the anger I give over it all. why it makes me so angry he continues to do this to me while acting like he means nothing to me. he doesn’t realize how chemically & physically consuming he has become to my body. he has become a fucking heroine. & the thought of never having him again is just as excruciating as it is living for him. but i know if i were the one, he would’ve changed & he wouldn’t continue doing this to me after it’s already made me leave.

why place your pedestal next to my mothers. where the lights no longer work. where i gaze & wonder what would’ve happened if I was enough.

it’s not all his fault, but he knew. he knew. i couldn’t handle that. he knew what i wanted. needed. he knew. he just stopped caring.

[xthexrevenantx]

Fluffa died.

On the 16th of March I’m supposed to celebrate Fluffa’s birthday, but unfortunately today had overall not been a good day for her and she passed away an hour ago I think around between 00:30 AM and 1:30 AM. My beautiful angel had to join her sibling, her father and her uncle in bun-bun heaven.

Last month she was stricken severely with pneumonia but she dealt with it and made it through. Still, she seemed to keep having issues with a faulty body as she has been severely handicapped from birth and had a rough start of life. She had lost a lot of strength and capabilities because she basically lied still the first few days after pneumonia had smitten her because she was just so horribly sick.

Due to her loss of strength it was hard from her to get to her water from her drink bottle and she bore a lot of anger and found it difficult to deal with the fact that she had been dealt a mayor set-back. She was angry that she could no longer really do many of the things that she liked to do. She had lost the ability to move around however she liked to for a huge percentage, resulting in her remaining a quiet state of mind, even tho she and I knew very well that this was not the way she preferred to behave. She didn’t tend to like keep still for too long and was always up to something.

Some days and nights she wouldn’t even drink at all, especially at night. She would sometimes refuse the bottle when I would present it to her so I tried to compensate with apple as a means for fluid as much as I could. Then in the mornings she would be pissed at me and gave me an attitude as if to say “Why did you not bring me any water for so many hours? You know I drink a lot!” And she would even attempt to bite me because she felt spiteful. So I would take her out and give her the bottle. Which she then took, and it even came to the point where she was able again to drink on her own without problem. Until 4 days ago she again entirely refused to drink any longer, this time absolutely no longer accepting any water, having gotten fed up with eating apple as well. She hardly ate anything today, still she was doing enough on hay. But obviously not consuming water is a big problem and today her tummy was somewhat bloated and I decided since the water was an indefinite ongoing problem for the time being, to take her to the vet and have her checked up if she was okay.

The vet said all in her tummy and bowel movements were all working normally. Not understanding or being able to find any cause as to why she refused to drink, their best guess was that maybe something was causing her pain that made her not want to drink and barely eat today, so she was given medication for pain and something extra to keep her bowels moving and also an IV for water in case she was dehydrated and with that we were sent home.

But after coming home she wasn’t really getting any better, she was unresponsive to her treat or any other delicious food where normally she would be jumping for to just get everything and more of it. From her appearance, the way her body was rather hanging and lying about I could tell and feel like she was slipping away. But if something within her reach was happening, like, you suddenly put your finger close to her, she would respond how I knew her and for the moment she seemed like nothing was wrong, then 15 minutes later she would slip away again and she looked like she was dead and the only prove I had that she was still here was her breathing. And I’d cry, and texted my mom that things were not improving for Fluffa.

Everything I’ve ever done concerning Fluffa I done with the best interest for my darling angel.. She was EVERYTHING I thought I would never have and experience again after I lost my love Fluffy 4 years ago. The amount of trust, communication and loyalty that she displayed as a pet to an owner is incomparable to any other pet I’ve ever had.

[leopardwolf]

Fuck Cancer, Fuck Inadequate Medical Care

  I got angry and lit fires at the hospital last week. The hospital originally planned to just release mom once again after barely doing the minimum to stabilize her and not give any additional aftercare. Just go home and resume what you were doing.  She had only just barely started eating solid food again and they still had her on IV fluids.  I expressed concern saying this is exactly what happened the last time after her ICU incident, the hospital let her stay a few days and then decided she was "okay enough" to go home even though they had not addressed the issues that led to her potassium drop.... her uncontrolled ( even on meds ) pain and nausea.  So I told them, even with me here now supervising her and trying to get her to stay on top it, she could not keep anything down, and within days was right back where she had been. I told them I was worried that happening this close to scheduled surgery, would mean she would not be able to have the surgery... and the surgeon made it very clear because they will have 4 docs working on this, this was the only slot they all had for months.  The hospitalist actually tried to justify it and argue medically speaking, she was technically stable and they had no reason to keep her.... I shut him down. Seriously? She is a cancer patient doing very badly and malnourished, you know she is having major surgery next week, and you are just saying "Oh, go home and if it happens again, just come back!" instead of proactively giving us any options to keep her stable until the surgery?  I said there has to be something you can do, or someone can. He admitted his hands were tied and said he would speak to his supervisor and see what they could do.  I spoke with the supervisor and she admitted it was a bad situation and just the nature of disease this bad....I said that isn't good enough, there has to be something we can do, if you won't keep her in the hospital. Even if I had to drive her to more appointments, already an issue for us since they are in the middle of nowhere. She said maybe there was, if we could get IV fluids at home, and went to set that up.  I thanked her for thinking outside the box to do so. While waiting, I had called and left a message for mom's surgeon's nurse to call back. When I told her what was going on, she agreed it was not a good situation to lead up to major surgery. Mom could hardly keep anything down, even simple liquids, and as soon as the dehydration kicks in, it gets worse which makes dehydration worse and turns into a nasty chain cycle that needed to be broken so she didn't end up hospitalized and unable to have the surgery.  The nurse spoke with the surgeon and explained the situation, and he agreed with my reasoning that it was too risky even with home IV fluids, and felt mom would be better off if they could monitor and get her where she needed to be for surgery. So he didn't hesitate to suggest we bring her in and admit her to the main hospital so he could help personally oversee her care.  I am soooooo thankful they actually listened and did not just trying to shrug it off like the hospital in Slidell did, twice.  That is unacceptable. The surgeon ordered new CT scans and other things, and of course found that her nutrition levels were real bad.  They found there is some sort of blockage in the small intestine, that is likely what is causing her to be so sick and not be able to keep food down.  Based on his experience, there is a chance it is from the cancer spreading, but he can't be certain till he goes in to see what the tissue is.  The lymph nodes that were already effected are enlarged, and it looks like a 3rd is now effected. Some of the affected lymph nodes cannot be removed.  We talked with palliative care to discuss options. Having surgery will give her extra time, provided there are no complications, and once the stuff is out of her and they clear the blockage they would probably put in a feeding tube. There is a chance after that and if she heals well they can try chemo again, and as long as she does not have another allergic reaction to it, they will see if it helps. So there is some slim hope. The whole problem is that she was allergic to the main chemo drugs they use to treat this type of cancer, and the idiot chemo oncologist kept her thinking it was okay to wait and try another and another, instead of explaining to her how serious it already was and they should have surgeried her to begin with to remove it all, and then done more chemo, not the other way around.  The surgeon does not want to promise this will cure it, because he can't remove it all and there might be microscopic spread elsewhere. So we have to hope chemo will help destroy the rest after surgery. This sort of travesty of advanced medical care happens everywhere, far too frequently, within healthcare systems in well developed countries and in facilities that have more than enough financial resources and technology to do it right, but choose not to. Big corp hospitals and big pharma have not truly been about curing people for a long time. Afterall, they get more money by making you a long term "customer" so you have to keep coming back for expensive treatments.  Greed for more money that leads to innocent people like my mother suffering. You have to strongly advocate and fight for your healthcare rights to be sure you get the best care you can, and be educated about your conditions and situation so you can fight that fight, or know someone who can on your behalf.  You also have to get lucky enough to find those special diamonds among the lumps of coal in these medical systems, the ones who are not in these fields just because of the money or forced into it by their families - the doctors, nurses, and staff that actually give a shit and want to help save lives and make a genuine difference and do what is right for the patient. Mom has surgery tomorrow morning, and is booked for a 9 hour slot. It is a pretty major surgery and will have an extended recovery time. She is determined to fight this with everything she has.  We need to give her all the laughs and happy things we can right now. Prayers and meditation for channeling healing energy. Many friends have already started prayer circles for her. Please feel free to join in. The more the merrier and stronger the energy!  I will make another update after the surgery, when we know more.  Mom and I send our love and thank you all for your love and support during this difficult time.

[thoughts-from-a-bottle-blog]

2 years

today it’s exactly two years ago where it all started.  (I feel ready enough to tell my story from how I remember it to be, this is how I experienced it) The first time I went to the hospital, picked up by an ambulance. I was already feeling sick since Monday. Because of my fear of hospitals I didn’t go until Wednesday the 23rd of March.  When I got there people seemed busy. My mom handled most of the talking, I was in so much pain I hardly remember much of what was said. All I remember is the itching, that never ending itching. I was light headed, I hadn’t been able to eat for days and hardly drank. Steven Johnson already kicked in pretty bad, my mouth was blistered and swollen, I couldn’t open it far without having to tear the skin from my braces.  The nurse asked me some general ‘’how do you feel’’ questions, and next thing I remember I’m in a hospital room. They talked to my mom. I remember being dizzy, and just wanting it to stop hurting and itching.  The nurses took my blood and were arguing whether or not it was just the flue. We knew it wasn’t, since the medicine causing it all warned for this. There was a near impossible chance for Steven Johnson, but by any skin irritation it was advised to see a doctor and stop the meds. Now here is where the hospital fucked up. They send me home without the blood results (which later confirmed SJS). They told me I had to keep taking the medicine no matter what. When they found out I had SJS they never called and tried to cover it up. I went home, and did as I was told, against what I already knew...  I got worse, and don’t have many memories of Thursday. I remember my mom calling the doctor again, saying I got much worse. All she got in reply is that I already went yesterday, so I just had to deal with it until Friday. I still had to take my meds, and it would probably be fine.  Friday came around and I was covered head to toe in yellow liquid filled blisters. everything hurt, was itching and burning. It’s the worst pain I’ve felt to this very day. I remember my dad coming home Friday, and as soon as he saw me he almost gagged. He went downstairs, and I remember him yelling at my mom I had to go to the hospital now. ‘‘She looks like she was attacked by mustard gas’‘ --side note, to this day mustard gas injuries are the best way to describe the way my ‘‘blisters’‘ looked. Covered like that from head to toe-- After some arguing my mom called the doctor, and to the doctors we went. My actual doctor wasn’t there for some reason, so we got moved to the emergency-only substitute place (not a hospital, just a small doctors place). The doctors there seemed panicky and immediately called the hospital, so I just had to wait for the ambulance.  I remember trying to walk outsideand failing. The ambulance guy trying the grab me in time. My skin was already so bad that he ripped all my skin off with his thumb. (To this day I have his thumbprint imprinted on my shoulder as a scar) We stayed in AAUH (the hospital) from Friday afternoon until Saturday morning.  At first they put me in a shared room, with two other people. Though that didn’t take long. I needed to pee, and since I had no skin left.. it hurt. I screamed so much, I almost passed out. I was crying, gagging and screaming my lungs out. Not much later they removed all the others from the room. I couldn’t sleep that night, and had an iv drip in my left hand. So I spent the night trying to draw with my right hand. After a good few hours I managed to make a chubby looking batman, I remember being proud of it.. even though it seems silly now, it meant a lot.  After everyone woke up I got rolled into the ambulance, no longer being able to walk. The ambulance people got lost on their way to Skejby (the other hospital). But eventually we got there. The ambulance guy tried really hard to keep me awake, though it was so hard not to just give in to the pain and fade away.. --I’ll continue at a later time since it’s still really hard to talk about--

[artificialqueens]

Something Near Perfect - Part Six (Shalaska) - Lost Imp

A/N Hi again! This part is sad, partially because it’s based on real experience, and partially because it involves a very sick Lasky. I promise the next part will be happier… I think.

Xx Lost Imp

“Hey Court, will you see if you can wake Alaska up, food’s done.”

“I love that you cook, Bill. You’re a regular old housewife” Courtney said, laughing at the dirty look she received in return, kissing her girlfriend’s cheek and slipping into the living room. She knelt down by the side of the couch and stroked Alaska’s cheek lightly.

“Heya Lasky, wanna get up and have something to eat?”

Alaska opened her eyes and squeezed them shut tightly when she was met with a bright light that hurt her head like hell.

“What’s wrong? Alaska, are you ok?” Courtney asked, panicked.

“I’m ok. It’s just my head hurts. Do you have any aspirin?”

“Of course, but do you think you could come out to the kitchen and have something to eat?”

“I… I don’t think so. I don’t think I should eat anything just yet. I’m not feeling great” Alaska said, avoiding Courtney’s eyes, hoping she wouldn’t be able to tell she was lying through her teeth. Her head was fighting her again. Calling her weak, telling her she needed to punish herself. She knew she shouldn’t be allowed eat.

“Honey, what’s going on?” Courtney asked, concerned.

“Nothing. I’m just not feeling great Courtney.”

“Alaska, please don’t lie to me”

“Courtney, why aren’t you listening to me? I’m just not feeling good!” Alaska raised her voice. She could feel her head taking over her actions and making her lash out at Courtney just like she did to Sharon.

“Woah, Alaska, calm down. What’s going on?” Willam asked, running into the room.

“Alaska. I know you. You’re feeling sick because you haven’t eaten, and you know it. Please come out and just have something small to eat. Please?”

Alaska could feel panic rising in her chest. She felt trapped. The voices in her head were running wild, filling her mind with horrible thoughts for the second time that day.

“Leave me alone! Stop trying to control me!” Alaska shouted, her body beginning to shake. She was panicking, her head hurt, she was hungry, and her mind was racing with awful things.

“Alaska, calm down and come eat something” Courtney pleaded with her, doing her best to remain calm. Willam had no such plan.

“Alaska, you’re being ridiculous, we’re trying to help you!” Willam replied, raising her tone to match Alaska’s.

Courtney grabbed her girlfriends hand in an effort to keep her quiet. At this point Alaska was visibly panicked and shaking. She felt like her body was simultaneously running far too fast while also on the verge of shutting down.

“Why won’t you listen to me? I can take care of myself. I don’t need you to tell me what to eat. Or where to go, or baby me. All you’re doing is pitying me and making me seem weak and I’m fine. I don’t need you. I.. I hate..” Alaska screamed, unable to breath at all at this point. She sat curled up in a ball on the couch, tucking her knees into her chest and covering her face with her hands trying to relax her breathing. She felt too over-panicked to control her body.

Courtney and Willam were absolutely terrified. Neither of them had ever seen Alaska this bad, and they had no idea how to handle the situation. That moment, Willam’s phone rang in her hand. Seeing the caller I.D., she answered the phone immediately.

“Hey Willam, Courtney wasn’t answering her phone and I didn’t want to ring the bell and wake…”

“Sharon, where are you?” Willam interrupted.

“At the door”

“Oh thank God”

Willam ran to the door and grabbed Sharon, dragging her into the living room. Courtney was kneeling beside Alaska, attempting to get the taller girl to control her breathing enough to talk to her.

Seeing Alaska shaking, Sharon immediately jumped into action. She walked quickly over to Alaska as Courtney moved out of the way, allowing Sharon to crouch down in front of her girlfriend.

“Alaska, it’s me. I’m here. You’re ok”

“Sh..Shar..I’m… scared…I’m going to…collapse”

“Ok doll. Alright, you’re ok”

Sharon turned to Courtney who had silent tears sliding down her cheeks while Willam had her arms wrapped around her.

“Willam, I need you to get me water. Lots of it. And aspirin. We’ll worry about food in a minute” Willam nodded, giving Courtney a light squeeze and running into the kitchen.

“Courtney, I need you to get me a hot water bottle. She’ll be ok, she’s just dehydrated and needs food and warmth”

Courtney nodded and hurried upstairs.

Sharon turned back to Alaska, admittedly feeling scared for Alaska’s immediate health for the first time in a good few months. The last time she had seen her this bad, she had collapsed and ended up in hospital. The doctors had explained what had happened and how to deal with it if it ever happened again at home, but until now she had never had to put that knowledge into practice.

She sat up onto the sofa beside Alaska, who was still curled up and shaking uncontrollably.

“Alaska, I need you to listen to me doll ok? Please?”

Alaska looked up and nodded her head gently and leaned in towards Sharon, her body craving any warmth it could get. Sharon grabbed the bunch of blankets from the bottom of the couch and wrapped them around Alaska as she lay her head in Sharon’s lap.

“Alaska, I need you to stay awake for me and to answer my questions. Can you do that, baby?”

“O..ok” Alaska said through her shivering.

“Are you in any pain?”

“Head”

“Anywhere else?” Sharon said, continuing to stroke Alaska’s hair.

“Stomach”

“Hunger pains?”

“Y..yes”

“Have you eaten anything since breakfast other than a bit of the snack bar Courtney gave you?”

Alaska’s head was screaming at her to lie. To make Sharon believe she had eaten so she wouldn’t have to eat now. She couldn’t tell her the truth, but she wouldn’t lie. She felt a wave of silent sobs wracking through her tired, hungry body.

Sharon took this reaction as a confirmation of what she was afraid of. It was almost six and Alaska had only eaten some fruit and a piece of toast that day.

“Shhh baby. You’re ok. Don’t worry, we’ll work through this. Shh you’re ok”

Sharon stroked her girlfriend’s hair as she wrapped her tighter in her arms. Willam slowly came back into the room, handing the dark-clothed girl a large class of water and two aspirin.

Thank you, Sharon mouthed.

“Lasky, sweetheart, you’re de-hydrated and I need you to drink something. Willam brought aspirin for your head too”

Alaska sat up slowly, tears still silently running down her pale cheeks. It broke Sharon’s heart to see her girlfriend in so much pain. Alaska curled her legs up into her body and leaned in to Sharon’s chest. Sharon gave Alaska the aspirin which she took and sipped slowly on the water.

Courtney came back into the room carrying a hot water bottle and another blanket just in case. She had stopped crying and gave Alaska a small smile. Alaska didn’t return the gesture, still unable to focus on anything other than Sharon’s warm body and the voices in her head.

Sharon caught Courtney’s eye from where she stood by the door with Willam. Food she mouthed, and Courtney nodded, pulling Willam into the kitchen with her.

“Alaska, I know you don’t want to, but I really need you to eat something for me”

Alaska’s still shivering body turned to worriedly look into her girlfriends’ eyes.

“No. Please no.”

“Alaska, honey, I need you to hear me. If you don’t eat something now, you’ll end up collapsing and back in hospital like last time, and I know that’s not what you want love.”

“No. I can’t. I won’t”

“Lasky, please baby, I’ll help you. You have to eat, now.”

“No. I can’t. I have the game in a few hours. I have to go.”

“Sweetheart, you’re not seeing clearly. The game is not a priority now. You need to eat”

Alaska, you need to get out. Leave. They’ll make you eat food and you don’t deserve it. You haven’t earned food. And remember what Alyssa and Gia told you, who would want you if you’re fat? So get out. Now. Get away from these people.

Alaska’s breathing sped up, her shaking getting stronger.

“No. No. No!” she yelled, trying to pull herself away from Sharon.

“Alaska, Alaska, calm down. Baby breath, you’ll make yourself sick, Alaska please”

Alaska’s body went limp, and her breathing stopped for a moment before she shut her eyes.

“Alaska, Alaska, baby?” Sharon yelled, shaking her girlfriend lightly.

“Willam, call an ambulance!” Sharon shouted towards the kitchen.

“Sharon, what… oh my god!” Courtney shrieked as she saw her best friends’ limp body in her girlfriends’ arms.

“Courtney, it’s ok. This has happened before. She’ll be ok. I just need to get her to hospital” Sharon said, trying to reassure not only Courtney, but herself.

“They’ll be here in two minutes” Willam announced, walking straight over to her sobbing girlfriend and wrapping her in her arms.

“You’re ok Lasky, you’ll be fine” Sharon whispered, running her fingers softly to her hair as she heard the distant sound of sirens coming from the open front door where the other two girls stood waiting for the paramedics.

An hour later, Sharon was sitting in a cramped hospital room with her head in her hands. Alaska was beside her in the bed, hooked up to a heart monitor and an IV line that was pumping nutrients back into her frail body. Sharon could hardly bring herself to look at her beautiful girlfriend, whose face looked paler than the sheets on the bed with sunken dark rings around her eyes.

When they had arrived in the hospital, the doctors had given Sharon the same spiel about Alaska’s condition as the last time. She was obviously under nourished, dehydrated and exhausted. However, they did tell her that provided that Alaska agreed to adhering to a strict meal plan, she could go home tomorrow morning. They had also told Sharon that it may be an hour or two before Alaska would wake up, due to the strong pain killers they had given her.

Willam and Courtney had been sitting in the hospital waiting room the entire time, Courtney curled up in her girlfriend’s arms. Neither of them had ever seen Alaska break down the way she had that evening.

“Courtney and Willam?” a nurse asked quietly, coming into the room.

“We’re here” Willam answered, nudging Courtney lightly.

They both stood up, holding each other’s hands, still wearing their cheer uniforms in preparation of the big game that they had completely forgotten about.

“Alaska isn’t awake yet, but Sharon thought you might still like to see her” the nurse said kindly.

“We would. Thank you” Courtney replied.

“You’re welcome. If you take the elevator to the second floor she’s in the third room on the left, room 203”

They smiled gratefully and headed towards the elevator.

“Sharon?” Courtney asked quietly through the slightly open door of room 203.

“Hi Court, come on in” Sharon said from where she was still sitting beside Alaska’s bed, smiling tiredly.

Both Willam and Courtney looked visibly shocked when they saw Alaska wrapped in blue blankets on the bed. She looked so small and pale, with dark circles in place of her usually bright eyes. Courtney hastily wiped tears from her cheeks, angry at herself for being so upset when she felt that Sharon had much more reason to be.

“How are you Sharon?” Willam asked walking over to the foot of the bed.

“I’m ok. Tired, but I’m fine. Are you alright?” Sharon asked, looking more drained than either of the girls had ever seen her. She had lost the intimidating glint in her eyes that she usually had when talking to anyone that wasn’t Alaska. Alaska hadn’t found her intimidating for a very long time.

“We’re fine. What did they say about Lasky? Will she be ok? Does she have to stay here long? Is it anything really serious?” Courtney babbled, unable to stop the endless questions running through her mind.

“She will be ok. She can go home tomorrow I think, and she’s just de-hydrated. And hasn’t eaten enough obviously”

“Does…does this happen… often?” Willam asked cautiously.

“Well she faints often enough for it to not be normal, but I know you know that. Being taken to hospital has only happened once before. This time wasn’t like the last time though…” Sharon said, drifting off into her own thoughts.

“How so?” Willam asked, glad that Sharon was actually talking to them properly for once. Neither Alaska nor her girlfriend were particularly good at opening up to anyone else.

“Well….” Sharon began, unsure of how much information she should divulge without Alaska’s permission. Fuck it, she thought, they deserve to know the truth. They love Lasky.

“Well last time, she collapsed simply because she hadn’t eaten food in over twenty-four hours. This time, although she hadn’t eaten enough, she had eaten food this morning. That usually doesn’t cause her to get this bad. Something happened to her. She’s stressed, or anxious, or both. I’m not sure, just something was messing with her head more than usual that caused her to get so panicked. I just don’t know what.”

Both blonde cheerleaders stayed quiet for a few moments, processing the new information. Neither of them really knew what to say.

“Don’t you guys have a game in half an hour?” Sharon broke the silence, checking the time on her phone.

“What?” Courtney asked, lost in her own thoughts.

“The game?” Sharon repeated, raising her eyebrows.

“Oh shit” Willam cursed quietly.

“We don’t have to go. We’ll stay here with you” Courtney said firmly.

“No, you should go. Alaska will be out cold for at least another hour or two and I know you’ll all be given hell by the head bitch if three blonde cheerleaders are missing. I’ll text you if she wakes up, and you can always come back tonight. You should go though, get a break.”

“Are you sure?” Courtney asked biting her bottom lip guiltily.

“Yes” Sharon said, smiling tiredly once again, trying to convince the other two girls that they should go. The truth was, she was on the verge of breaking herself, and wanted to be alone during that eventuality.

“Ok, we’ll be back as soon as the game is over. Earlier if you need us” Courtney said, taking Sharon’s hand and squeezing it tightly.

“Ok. And thank you for picking her up earlier, I really don’t know what’s wrong. We’ll figure it out though” Sharon said, more to herself than to the other people in the room.

“Later Needles” Willam said, smiling quickly at Sharon and then taking her girlfriends hand and exiting the room quietly.

As soon as the door shut, Sharon allowed herself to finally break down. She was feeling tired, and drained, and scared and angry and guilty, and it was all too much. Hot, angry tears continued to roll down her cheeks mixing with the dark eyeliner under her eyes and falling into her lap.

How could I let it get to this point again? I can’t lose her. I can’t let her kill herself slowly.

“Sharon?”

[wilberdojo]

The Battle Wits Can’t Win

Based off of this post by @enygmass  (Please read that first so you don’t go into this story blind.)

Warnings: Angst, cancer, depression, self-starvation, self-injury, death.

This story is pretty depressing and caused me to cry multiple times while writing and editing it. As such, I’d really like to thank my test reader @jrae2015 for powering through it to make sure there weren’t any errors I may have missed.

While he had always hated hospitals, now they were nothing short of unbearable to him. The walls were blindingly white as he walked down the corridor, thinking of how quickly the events had transpired. Edward Nygma had called him, voice shaking, terrified and on the verge of crying. He told him where to go, and Jonathan Crane did not hesitate to oblige. That's what brought him here. He could hardly even remember the drive.

The door was open. He thought it strange that police weren't there to guard the obvious villain in the hospital. He heard a sob break the atmosphere of coughing and beeping machines. The only reason he even paid attention to the small sound was because it came from Edward’s room.

Edward was not much for crying. Sure, he did it, as all people do, but never publicly if he could avoid it. Something had to have happened to make him cry as openly as this. The question was what?

Jonathan didn't ask, he simply walked in and looked over his chart. He recognized the words from his studies and quickly figured out the meaning.

Edward Nygma had brain cancer, and this time, there were no Lazarus Pits to save him.

The news hit Jonathan hard, like a ton of bricks smashing into him all at once. He felt lightheaded, yet hypersensitive. His stomach felt bottomless, yet in his throat. He felt sick, even though it wasn't his own diagnosis. He looked up, and his eyes met the red, tearful, droopy eyes of the Riddler, now at the mercy of what will be his deteriorating brain.

Jonathan put the clipboard back and sat down in a chair beside him.

“I'm here,” were the only words muttered between them. “I'm here…”

There was a knock at the door, pulling Edward away from his book to look into the eyes of Jonathan Crane, ones that were no longer cold and uncaring, yet still carried a sharp softness to them.

“Riddle me this. What's in my pocket?”

Edward rolled his eyes.

“You know that's not a real riddle. It's a question, not a riddle.”

“Well, your saying sounds much better than ‘Question me this.’”

“Touché.”

They both chuckled lightly as Jonathan made his way into the room, pulling a piece of candy from his pocket and handing it to the genius.

“You're spoiling me, Jon.”

“You were already spoiled.”

Jonathan sat down beside his friend.

“You don't have to stay.”

“I'm aware of that.”

“Yet you choose to stay in a hospital, a building that, if I remember correctly, you despise.”

“You do remember correctly.”

“Then why?”

“You think yourself not enough reason for me to stay?”

Edward opened his mouth to say something but found himself speechless from the last remark. He had to think on that. He had to do much more thinking lately. His mind was slow, and his remarks slower. Jonathan had noticed, he was certain.

“Was that a compliment?”

“Basically, yes.”

“Thank you.”

“You're welcome.”

There was a short silence. Edward returned to his book, and Jonathan pulled out his own to read.

“‘Soon again I heard the tapping, somewhat louder than before.’”

“The Raven, Edgar Allen Poe.”

“‘There is nothing like looking, if you want to find something… You certainly usually find something, if you look, but it is not always quite the something you were after.’”

“The Hobbit, J.R.R. Tolkien.”

“‘It is my belief… That the truth is generally preferable to lies.’”

A moment of silence.

“Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire, J. K. Rowling.”

“‘Life is much more successfully looked at from a single window.’”

A longer silence.

“I'm… I'm not sure.”

There was a sense of urgency, of fear in his voice. Jonathan can always pinpoint fear.

“The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald.”

“I'm forgetting…”

“Everyone forgets books they haven't read in years.”

“Not me…”

When Jonathan came to the room, the door was closed and a doctor was standing guard. The doctor gave him a look, and Jonathan realized immediately what was going on.

It took a few minutes before they left, sure that Edward was going to be alright. Jonathan walked in and sat beside him, as always, and put a hand over Edward’s shaking one. Edward wasn't conscious, but his body was weak, tired, and unable to rest.

He woke up a couple hours later, Jonathan reading a book and still holding his hand. Edward rolled onto his back.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like shit. You?”

“Afraid.”

Edward looked at his friend, who had put the book down and had attention focused on him.

“You're never afraid.”

“I am, for you.”

“You don't need to be. It was just a nap.”

“I've been here since they were helping you through the seizure. Don't lie to me, Edward.”

Edward went silent, then looked away from his friend.

“I have every right to be afraid, and honestly I am terrified.”

“I finally scared the scarecrow.”

Jonathan opened his mouth to yell but stopped himself. He wanted to scream at him for making jokes at a time like this, but Jonathan knew that was how he coped. He held his tongue and mustered up a different response.

“Another impossibility made possible by the mighty Riddler.”

The staff was afraid to enter the room. They knew for certain that neither Edward Nygma or Jonathan Crane had eaten for three days. Jonathan refused to leave until Edward woke up, and that meant for anything. They had switched out Edward's IV to accommodate for the lack of nutrition, but they weren't sure what to do for Jonathan. They had an idea but weren't certain it would work.

When the nurse came in with two trays, Jonathan lifted an eyebrow.

“This is a single room.”

“I know. The second tray is for you.”

The nurse handed him the tray and he eyed it suspiciously.

“Eat. We know you haven't for days. It's complimentary.”

There was a moment of silence between them as she set the tray on a small stand for Edward, in case he woke up soon.

“Thank you.”

The nurse blinked in surprise, then smiled as she nodded at him. Jonathan began to eat once she had left the room.

Edward’s mental deterioration was at a one-to-one ratio for Jonathan’s physical deterioration. Jonathan was now a full-time resident of Gotham General Hospital and stayed permanently in the chair beside Edward. He was weaker from the lack of exercise and sleepless nights and would have days where he wouldn't eat.

Edward would have episodes of sleeping days on end, and Jonathan, in turn, would not leave for anything and refused to sleep, prompting nurses to advise him rest and bring him food. Edward was slowly forgetting how he used to speak with Jonathan, his mental dictionary slowly being ripped away, page after page.

What scared Jonathan most, however, were the seizures. He had witnessed three already this month, each stronger than the last.

It had gotten to the point he'd just deal with it himself before paging the nurse, turning Edward on his side and gently holding his spazzing hand, whispering sweet nothings to hopefully relax him as he rode it out. After each one, Edward would regain consciousness long enough to say he was awake, and that he was going to take a nap.

The last nap lasted twenty-four hours.

The worst part was, Jonathan knew this was only the beginning.

When Jonathan returned from the cafe, Edward was crying. This wasn't an abnormal sight, but it still hurt Jonathan to see him like this. There was nothing he could do to help, and he knew it. The Riddler had fallen, and there was no rope long enough to help him back up. He walked over and gently put a hand on his shoulder.

“Don't touch me!”

Jonathan flinched, stepping back.

“This is all your fault! You should have done something, Jon! Why didn't you do something?!”

Jonathan said nothing, staying silent as Edward reared up more.

“You're a doctor! You should have been able to tell! You should have been able to prevent this! What, do you hate me? Did you want me to die, Jon?”

“I never wanted that…”

“Then why didn't you do something?”

Edward’s tone had softened to one of fear and sadness. Jonathan understood why. For a moment, they sat in silence. After a few minutes, Edward spoke up.

“Jon?”

“Hm?”

“I'm sorry…”

Jonathan sighed.

“Me too…”

Edward had been staring at Jonathan for an uncomfortably long time, but Jonathan said nothing, simply holding Edward’s hand and rubbing the back of it with a circling thumb. Edward’s mind was going more and more each passing day, and Jonathan was terrified. Edward could no longer solve riddles, not even simple ones. For most; the vocabulary was lost on him. Edward had forgotten his past, who his father was, what he was like, to which Jonathan had simply told him, “He was a bad man.”

Edward was now staring at Jonathan the way he stared at the riddle book; confused and forgetful.

“What's wrong?”

“You.”

“Me?”

“I don't remember meeting you. I remember us being friends, but I don't remember meeting you.”

Jonathan frowned. He knew it'd happen eventually, but not yet. Years of his life were being chipped away, one memory at a time, and he was helpless to it. Jonathan wished he could help, but the memory wouldn't last.

“We had to have met to become friends.”

“Well, yeah. Of course. I just can't remember it.”

Jonathan was stoic in front of his friend, but that isn't to say that was his common state of being. He would go to sit in his truck before having his outbursts of rage and hopelessness. He'd cry and punch the wheel, coming back with his cheeks puffy and hands bruised. Edward knew what he was doing, but couldn't find words enough to comfort him. Words were nearly completely lost to him. There wasn't much he could say any more. His vocabulary was now limited to mostly ten words. None of them, he regretted, were his friend’s name.

Jonathan looked at him. He could tell he wanted to say something but couldn't figure it out. That was something he really hated. The Riddler always knew what he wanted to say. This wasn't right, not at all. The least this monster infection could have done was leave his friend able to speak.

Edward stared at Jonathan with pleading eyes and weakly lifted his hand, which Jonathan took. He felt Edward write on the back of his hand with a finger, the only way he could say what he wanted to say.

You need sleep.

“I'm alright.”

You need help.

“I'll handle it. You should get some rest.”

Edward frowned. He could always tell when Jonathan was lying. Now was no exception.

Edward could no longer move that so-crucial finger that helped them communicate beyond the failure of his lips. He’d look dead if it weren't for the tear-filled eyes staring at the ceiling. Jonathan rubbed the back of his hand with a thumb, staring hopelessly at the ground. It wouldn't take much longer now, and they both knew it. It was only a matter of time.

A time neither were wanting to come.

When it ended, it was sudden. Jonathan was talking to Edward, mentioning poets he had loved and muttering their writings to him. He froze mid-word when the ECG flatlined. He pressed the call button before he had even realized it, and stood over Edward, staring into his green eyes that unblinkingly gazed at the ceiling. He was doing compressions already when the doctors arrived.

The world seemed to slow. He watched the doctors take over. He listened to the charging of the defibrillator and then watched Edward arch at the release of electricity into his body. The world felt fake. It was as if he was the only living person viewing a movie from the center. It was a horror movie, one he couldn't escape. One Edward couldn't escape. The doctors raised the voltage and tried again. However, Edward never took another breath. He had lost to the battle wits can't win.

Jonathan was famous for being stoic, but few thought he would keep this mask on the day of the public funeral. Police came to calm the crowds of people in green but promised to leave villains paying respects alone. Jonathan was in black, a straight face, more resembling a grim reaper than a scarecrow, and came to the casket’s side. As he looked down at the frozen face of his dear friend, he felt ill. He felt fake. The world was frozen and nothing existed.

Selina Kyle had seen Jonathan collapse and slowly helped him to his seat. She didn't have to ask to know he hadn't slept in far too long. He wouldn't have responded anyway. She looked at his hands, blood seeping through the bandages from where he had cut himself smashing all his liqueur bottles, and smelled heavily of the smoke from burning all the cartons of cigarettes he owned.

Edward had always complained of Jonathan’s unhealthy habits. It pained, no, angered him to keep their advocates in his house any longer. Jonathan only wished Edward was alive to see this turn of habits.

Jonathan rose and went to the podium with a prepared speech when he was asked to say a few words. He looked over the crowd, then back at the paper on the podium. Suddenly, he was a professor again, only this time teaching the life of his dear friend to his audience of villains, civilians, and law enforcement. He only got a third of the way through before everything melted away, and Jonathan had trailed off into silence. He stared at the casket. How had this happened? What more could he have done? There was so much wrong with the world. Could he have made it right?

Jonathan was not much for crying. Sure, he did it, as all people do, but never publicly if he could avoid it. Something had to have happened to make him cry as openly as this. The death of the Riddler was more than enough.

Selina stood and escorted him back to his seat as Oswald rose to finish Jonathan’s speech for him. Jonathan was angry and confused, just as much as he was devastated. Selina was unable to calm him.

Once the service ended, Jonathan returned to his truck alone. He sat in the driver’s seat and stared blankly at the wheel. It all seemed fake. All of this. Was this another master plan of the Riddler’s? One set to clear his name so he could retire? No. Jonathan would have known if it was. Edward wouldn't have put him through this. He wouldn't have forced him to watch his closest friend die if he, himself, wasn't afraid. Jonathan had been his comfort the past year and a half, as the man slowly drifted into the abyss. Jonathan missed him greatly, and that was a fact he couldn't deny. How could he deny it when he was driving to one of Edward’s old traps just to get a vision of the Riddler one last time?