#okay i've got them out of my system now

[believe-in-alderaan]

Forgiveness

[alongtidesoflight]

i swear my stepdad is so illogical AND stubborn it hurts

[neriyon]

Small test run of Infinity Nikki done! Mostly just finished the tutorial (and kicked Momo around), but it so far it seems pretty fun~

Also photo mode is so nice ♥

[seventh-district]

Could've left me just the way you found me, but you came and put your wings around me. You went out of your way, to fix what you didn't break.

This song is so incredibly Sam & Darlin' coded and no one can tell me otherwise.

[lots of lyrical analysis below the cut] [there's also a short little fanfic blurb of them stargazing down there too (this post got really out of hand lmao)]

For those not fully caught up, note that the following commentary contains various spoilers for Sam and Darlin's stories.

Note: Unfortunately this song is gendered, using the word 'girl' several times. Which sucks a little bit for immersion purposes, not only for keeping Darlin' gender-neutral, but also because I see this song as a duet between them, and Darlin' obviously wouldn't be addressing Sam with the word 'girl' either. So! As with most songs on their playlist, we're just gonna mentally omit any gendered terms we come across.

Side note: Frustratingly, this is one of those songs that didn't really even need to gender the subject in the first place. No part of the story or message is lost without it. But alas, many songs are like that, and so the playlist-makers of the world shall continue to suffer. [/lh]

Anyways, preamble's over. It's lyric time now yay!

Sam's Part

I was a ten-year train wreck

Technically for Sam I suppose it was 13 years, but ten is close enough (and 'ten' admittedly flows a lot better in the rhythm of the song than 'thirteen' would.) Anyways, we're not here to split hairs, (I have to remind myself), we're just here to point out similarities.

In Sam's Dec. '22 HBW, he says "For the last 13 years or so I haven't had to care too much about how I look. Seemed a little redundant after turnin', considerin' I didn't wanna be around much'a anybody anyway."

I think he's mentioned or alluded to that roughly 13 year period of time more than once, but that's the one I remember best so it's the example I'm using. There's still about 4 Sam audios I've yet to listen to as of making this post, so if I'm missing some Key Lore I'll edit this later. But for now, I don't think Sam has given many specifics on exactly how bad things got during that time. Luckily, 'train wreck' is a pretty broad and subjective term, so it easily covers any degree to which he may have fallen apart during those years.

It also feels like a very 'him' way of quickly brushing over the details of his past/his hurt, as he seems to tend to do with Darlin', (not all the time ofc but it's still something I've noticed) putting his own hurt on the backburner to prioritize and attend to theirs. Even outside of his dynamic with them, I think as a healer, it's something he learned to do. And now he does it with everyone. Put on a brave face, compartmentalize things and unpack them later, etc. I could go on and on but there'll be time for that in other posts I'm sure. For now, lets get back to the song at hand.

With a last-call longneck

Due to personal reasons, I've yet to decide if I want to HC him as having used alcohol as a coping mechanism during that time. I don't recall him having mentioned alcohol much, if at all, (maybe one mention of whiskey that I don't have time to find right now) so I don't think it's necessarily canon that he did, but it's certainly possible. My personal preferences aside, I'll admit it makes for some good additional angst. (And- self-indulgently- it makes some other songs on my playlist for them more fitting.) So, for the sake of this song, let's imagine that he did.

I was searchin', I'd been hurt real bad

This one feels pretty self-explanatory given what Alexis did, (and, if you wanna get even angstier with it, whatever his family did earlier on in his life) so there isn't much commentary to add on my end.

I HC that in spite of 'not wanting to be around anybody', he- like Darlin- still had a tiny part of himself buried deep down that was, in a way, 'searching' for someone to find solace in. (No this isn't me projecting onto them both haha what are you talking about-)

Movin' on, gettin' sidetracked One step forward and five back

This is generally applicable enough that I don't feel the need to give too much of a specific example. Anyone who's recovered or is recovering from trauma knows this non-linear, back-and-forth struggle well already, and I'm sure he was no stranger to it.

If I were to give some examples though, I could point to Darlin's (and subsequently, Sam's) encounter with Alexis at the summit, or the shit that Quinn dredged up about Fredrick and threw at Sam in the interrogation room. Those are both more recent examples and I imagine these lines of the song to be coming from a place of him prior to meeting Darlin', but still, they're some instances where I'm sure he felt like the past was pulling him back in. I'm sure that there's been many throughout those 13 years that we were never witness to.

Not your fault, I was scared to fall

This line reminds me of their 'Cuddles and Confessions' audio. I don't think he ever explicitly said he was 'scared' per se, so afaik there's no specific line I can quote, but in that and every audio prior, he was obviously hesitant to admit, perhaps even to himself, that he was gradually falling for them. Even after the initial confession, there's certain limits of his (e.g. biting) that he carries for far longer, and some that I (and others) HC that he'll carry forever. So this line feels to me like him reassuring Darlin' that his reluctance isn't the fault of them, but his past.

Darlin's Part

You were the star in the pitch black Shine the way on the way back

We don't have any canon instances of them comparing Sam to a star, but I can see it being something they'd say (perhaps less poetically, but the sentiment would be there) one night while laying up on their roof watching the stars with him. Maybe they're dead-tired, talking nonsense with lidded eyes at the end of a long day, fighting sleep in favor of more time spent with him.

"What- what're you pointin' at Darlin'?"

Their hazy focus is trained on the brightest star visible in their line of sight, arm stretched out to the sky above them. "That really bright one, to the... to the left."

Sam does his best to follow their less-than-specific directions of 'to the left', their pointed finger doing little to help given the difference in perspective. Luckily, after all these years, he knows this stretch of night sky like the back of his hand, so it isn't hard to locate the brightest one. Ghosting his fingers up along their arm, he takes their hand in his and brings it back down to earth. "Okay, yeah, I see it now. What about it though?"

"That's you." They say, matter-of-factly.

"That's me?" He questions, humor in his tone.

"Mhm." They nod with finality, blinking slow.

Sam considers the odd statement for a moment before gently correcting them. "I'm uh, I'm pretty sure that's Sirius, actually."

They scoff. "I am being serious."

Sam stifles a laugh into their hair. "No- no I mean- like... what's another name for it... Oh! It's also called the Dog Star."

"C'mon Sam, at least call it the Wolf Star if you're trying to turn this around on me..."

He shakes his head and readies himself to explain further, but they cut him off before he can start. "But no- no, this one isn't about me. That's you."

He decides to play along, finding something endearing in their overtired nonsense. "Okay... then would'ja be so kind as to explain to this confused old man just how, or why that star is me?"

Their frown is audible in their voice as they latch onto the wrong part of his sentence. "You're not old, Sam. ...Do I need to tell Asher to kick the jokes down a notch?"

He smiles at their over-protectivity. "There'll be no need for that, now. Was just a joke, darlin', I promise."

They huff, but thankfully shift focus back to the prior topic. "It's... I dunno. It's just you, Sam. It's... bright. Light. Something warm, out there in the cold dark. Standing out amongst all the rest. Calling to me, stealing my attention. I... I didn't come out here looking for it, but there it is. ...There you were. In the dark. The only bright thing I'd seen in... fuck, in years. Years of chasing fleeting warmth, tripping over myself in the pitch black, falling into... places 'n people I shouldn't have. You were the light in that darkness. Even there, surrounded by the ghost of him. You outshone it. Your warmth didn't hurt. I didn't have to squint when I looked at you. You weren't the blinding sun. You were the brightest star I'd ever seen. You guided me back home."

In the back of their mind, they recall something they once heard, something about light, and time, and distance. Space. Something about... how you can see a star that's already burnt out, because it's light hasn't reached earth yet. The ghost of a star that's already died. Only still perceptible thanks to time, and distance.

They remember Sam's words, once whispered to them on this very roof.

"Whatever your choice is... I'm not gonna live forever. I made that decision a long time ago."

They think about dead stars.

They think about time.

"...-lin'? Darlin'?" Sam's calloused hand slides up their forearm, pulling them out of their thoughts. "There you are. Think I lost ya' for a minute there... you good?"

They look up at Sam, concern creasing his features, shadows cast across his face from the light of the dying stars above him.

They reach out, pulling him down into them. Burying their face into his collar, Sam's concern grows when he feels it saturate with tears. A human might struggle to hear their words, muffled against the thick fabric, but his hearing catches it just fine.

"Don't burn out too quick. Please. I still need you here. I don't- I don't wanna be left in the dark again. Please, please Sam. Don't leave me here. I'm not selfish enough to ask you for forever, but please. Not yet. Not yet. Not yet."

.......Whoopsies! Really, genuinely didn't mean to improv an entire scene there, good god. Also didn't mean to swerve hard into angst at the end but uh. that's what came out! so I'm rolling with it lmao. Aaanyways let's move on, it's getting late and this is a song analysis post, not a fic.

Out of nowhere, answered all my prayers

'Out of nowhere' reminds me of Sam's words from the same HBW video I referenced earlier. "You came into my life like a damn wreckin' ball. There was no preparing for that, clothing or otherwise." While those were Sam's words, not Darlin's, I still feel like they feel similarly to how suddenly Sam came into their life as well. (Not in a bad way, mind you!)

[the significance of 'answered all my prayers' edges into my own personal more headcanon-y/personal/OC-ified Darlin' territory, so we can just gloss over this one for the sake of at least attempting to keep this more universally applicable]

Picked up the towel that I threw in Took in a heart that was ruined

Again, largely self-explanatory I feel. (*proceeds to explain anyways*) I imagine that Darlin' was at the point of throwing in the towel, hellbent on a solo-mission to find Quinn regardless of the danger it posed to them. I doubt they were looking toward the future anymore, (to reference Sam,) fully willing to throw themself at their problems until they really did break.

The specific use of 'ruined' hits hard here, because after everything they went through with Quinn, and especially after he recounted it all to Sam in that interrogation room, I imagine that they really, truly did feel ruined.

Showed me the past ain't a tattoo Loved me even when you didn't have to

These lines in particular make me sick with emotion every time I hear this song, because I feel like they hit the nail on the head for how Darlin' feels.

I'll be here citing various quotes all night that I feel showcase that sentiment, but we don't have time for that! So instead I'm just pointing to the entirety of 'Quinn's Aftermath' video, and leaving you with this single quote from it.

"Everything that he said reflects nothin' on you, and everything on him."

Equally Applicable Lines

And I don't know why Why you saw something in me, baby But you saw right through All the pain, and you came and saved me Yeah, I know you didn't leave me lonely Weren't the one that put the heartbreak on me Picked up the pieces It wasn't the mess that you made Could've left me just the way you found me But you came and put your wings around me You went out of your way To fix what you didn't break

Again, I think these lines are all pretty self-explanatory, and are just as accurate coming from either one of them. To me, at least, their entire dynamic is that they saved each other, in their own ways.

(But I will admit, the final verses about 'going out of your way to fix what you didn't break' are definitely conjuring up memories of Sam in the early days, literally going out of his way to visit and heal Darlin' after their fight with the two vamps. In general, his continued/repeated healing of them after they once again hurt themselves is the very literal definition of fixing what he didn't break.

But! While we may have more blatant examples of Sam being 'the fixer' so to speak, I think he'd argue that Darlin' has done plenty fixing of their own. Physical wounds aren't the only things that need healing, after all.)

-------

[shameless self-promo of my Sam & Darlin' playlist for those few of u interested enough to make it to the very end of this wall of text. if u liked this then u might like some of the other songs on there soooo maybe go check it out and maybe perhaps give it a follow so i can get a little serotonin boost or dopamine or whatever the chemical is that's released when Number Go Up. ...okay that's it i hope u enjoyed my fixation-induced ramblings! thank u and goodnight]

[numbuh424]

I don't know if anyone else will appreciate this but if there are any other Death Note fans out there who also enjoy the TV show Taskmaster I am making a DN on Taskmaster AU so self-indulgent and I am pleading that you make yourselves known to me cause I can't be alone in this

[keeps-ache]

the urge to talk my head off vs. the calm of quiet vs. the Thoughts

[anaalnathrakhs]

btw my mom said it. she said it to me looking me in the eyes. i told her about how difficult it was for me to get through those family reunions, and she admitted it was very important to her, important enough that she was just going to do it anyway.

[pandorashearts]

realized it's my friend who disappeared a year ago's birthday,,, and just got. absolutely whiplashed with grief. i hate not knowing if she's even Alive, much less doing okay. i sincerely, with all my heart and soul, hope she's alive & well. happy birthday, m. not a day goes by that you don't cross my mind. i miss you.

[lanteanserver]

I think technically speaking, I'm not an Irish Catholic or an English Catholic, but I'm a Ro[a]m[i/a]n{g} Cat{-}holic until and unless they excom{m/eow}nicate me, and really, if they're going to do that,

[tgcg]

an open fly walking

i didnt like this one but i thought id finally air it out since its been sat in my folders for months now

TG: hey karkat

CG: YEAH?

===

TG: you ever noticed you like

TG: walk weird

CG: WOW, OKAY.

CG: HAVE *YOU* EVER NOTICED THAT I DON'T GIVE A SHIT?

TG: pff

===

TG: no listen because i got my ears scoping that shit im like a scouter for dude activity

TG: ok maybe me mentioning it to you is gonna fuck up your ecosystem or something but

TG: you have the heaviest feet of the century man

CG: I DO???

TG: just thrust them straight down into the ground like youre trying to homebrew a san andreas fault

TG: viciously tamping on tectonic plates hoping for top score on the richter scale

TG: waging war against solid particles and the basic flow of gravity

TG: i could ID those footfalls out of a million i mean it

CG: SERIOUSLY?

===

TG: i mean theres nothing wrong with it but

TG: yeah

CG: I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU'RE FUCKING WITH ME RIGHT NOW.

TG: im not fucking with you striders honor

TG: when have i ever lied to anybody about anything

CG: NOT UNPACKING THAT QUESTION WITH YOU TODAY.

CG: BUT SHIT, HOLD ON. LET ME SEE.

TG: yeah take the umbrella go over there and just walk to me

CG: ON IT.

===

===

TG: see you just kinda slam em straight down dude

CG: THIS IS THE WORST DAY OF MY RIOTOUS FUCKING JOKE OF A LIFE.

TG: dont your feet ache

===

CG: MOOT POINT. THIS MIGHT SOUND INSANE BUT I'VE ACTUALLY HAD MY STRUT PODS FOR A WHILE. ANY KIND OF PAIN THIS WOULD'VE BEEN CAUSING WOULD BE TOTALLY FILTERED OUT OF MY SPONGE BY NOW AS BACKGROUND NOISE.

TG: damn i didnt think that through

TG: my shades

CG: ALRIGHT, GET BACK UNDER THE SHITTING UMBRELLA AND THINK ABOUT WHAT YOU'VE DONE TO ME.

TG: look ive fucked myself over here too i dont have shit to clean these with

TG: ugh

===

TG: guess its karma

CG: HOLY FUCK. HOW DID I NEVER NOTICE THIS BEFORE?

TG: i dunno but im gonna assume having a dad thats a literal crab monster is probably a contributing factor

TG: im guessing thats not a great role model for this kinda thing

TG: just conjecture i mean

CG: YOUR ENVY IS OVERWHELMINGLY OBVIOUS DAVE. AS A DISCLAIMER, HE WOULD'VE ABSOLUTELY KICKED YOUR ASS.

TG: yeah probably

CG: THAT'S PRETTY MUCH ALL THERE IS TO SAY ON THE MATTER.

===

TG: but see bro had me stringent on feather feets

TG: i bet i could slip across a bike horn warehouse with nary a fucking toot

CG: HAHA. ASSUMING YOU DON'T MAKE A TOTAL ASS OF YOURSELF, AS PER USUAL.

CG: IF YOU WEREN'T CONSTANTLY RUNNING YOUR GASH ABOUT EVERYTHING AND BEING AN INIMITABLE CLOWN I SERIOUSLY THINK YOU COULD BE ON PAR WITH YOUR CUSTODIAN.

CG: THAT IS A MONUMENTAL "IF".

TG: well look at it this way

TG: im basically doing you all a favor by being a dumbass

TG: never gonna get caught off guard by the bozo patrol

CG: WOW. GOOD POINT.

===

TG: also screw this can i use your shirt

TG: this stupid hoodie is just smudging my lenses up

TG: i cant see dick

CG: UH

CG: SURE, I GUESS.

TG: cool

===

TG: so yeah i could be prowling around like a goddamn verbal assassin sniping convos left and right

TG: but no ive got the decency to go bunp in the night

CG: YEAH.

CG: IT'S DEFINITELY COMPOUNDED BY THE CONSTANT INANE RAMBLINGS.

CG: BUT

CG: IT'S ACTUALLY PRETTY RELAXING, Y'KNOW? IT HAS ITS OWN RHYTHM.

TG: see yeah i sound it off and

===

TG: wait really?

CG: YEAH

CG: I DON'T KNOW

CG: FUCK. HOW DO I EXPLAIN THIS WITHOUT WANTING TO CRAM MY FROND DOWN MY PROTEIN CHUTE.

===

CG: IT'S LIKE

CG: A SALVE FOR MY AGGRAVATION SPONGE.

CG: YOUR VOICE IS THE HUMAN EQUIVALENT OF ASPIRIN.

TG: uh damn karkat hold your hoofbeasts i was talking about the rhythm thing

CG: ALRIGHT, THAT'S IT. I'M TAKING US BOTH THE FUCK OUT RIGHT NOW. YOU HAVE REACHED THE BAD END OF THIS CONVERSATION.

TG: you think thatd be heroic or just

CG: IF I WAS STILL GHOSTING AROUND THE RUINS OF SGRUB'S ARCANE FRIGGIN GAME SYSTEMS, THE COMPLETE LACK OF SHIT AFOOT NOWADAYS WOULD BORE ME TO DEATH.

CG: LIKE. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME OUR THERMAL HULL LEVELLED UP, DAVE?

TG: hah

===

TG: but uh

TG: i mean we had aspirin on earth

CG: NO, NUMBNUBS.

CG: I'M SAYING YOU ARE MY ASPIRIN.

TG: oh

CG: YEAH, TAKE THAT TO THE BANK AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR 20-KARAT ASS.

===

TG: heh

TG: well get this

TG: i will literally talk at you forever for free

TG: you got lifetime priority seating for the davealogues

TG: never gotta go to the drugstore again you can just get doped up on my dulcet tones for the rest of time

TG: take that and some of this

TG: im packin punches

CG: OW, FUCK! NO! MY MIGRAINES!

CG: SWEEPS OF VEINCLOTTING AND NERVEFRAYING DOWN THE FUCKING GAPER. BECAUSE OF YOU.

CG: YOU ASSHOLE, THIS IS THE WORST THING THAT HAS EVER HAPPENED TO ME.

CG: AND YOU'RE LAUGHING.

TG: chuckle up it only gets worse from here

===

CG: BE HONEST WITH ME. DID FONDLING MY SHIRT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET EVEN DO ANYTHING?

TG: barely but yknow sometimes you just gotta deal the cards youre given

TG: ill just be astigmatic for a while its cool

CG: PFF… OKAY MAN.

[adieutristana]

Hii

Can you make Arcane women X Reader who became blind or deaf in an accident trying to protect them?

I love your writing and sorry for any mistakes, English is not my first language

of course! thank you for the request, and your kind words <3

disclaimer that i am neither blind nor deaf but chose deaf because i know it better (family members). i tried my best but the last thing i want to do is be disrespectful, please let me know if you have any feedback.

summary; headcanons of arcane women with fem! reader who went deaf protecting them.

characters included; jinx, vi, mel, sevika, caitlyn.

warnings/tags; mentions of war/combat, injury, medical talk (mel), hurt/comfort, fluff

men dni.

jinx;

✧.* your first time being caught in crossfire was nothing short of terrifying. jinx's ego is inflated beyond belief, even going as far as to say she just can't seem to die. but it doesn't make you any less fearful for her safety, or more importantly, her life.

✧.* she's got another enforcer on her back, chasing her through the lanes as she repeatedly tries to fire her gun to fend them off. it's not seeming to work, though. she's panting, her legs threatening to give out underneath her, but she can't stop moving. not now.

✧.* you happen to be walking by after running an errand, and seeing jinx zip past you is concerning, to say the least. you decide to shift gears to follow after her, clutching a bag of produce to your chest as you run. but god, jinx is fast.

✧.* you finally manage to catch up to jinx, long, blue braids trailing behind her as a sort of unintentional tracker.

✧.* "jinx- jinx, what's going on?"

✧.* "damn enforcer... won't leave me alone... it'll be fine, i've got this taken care of." she says through gritted teeth, weaving in and out of different alleyways with expert speed.

✧.* the enforcer is approaching behind the two of you, closer and closer. you forcefully take jinx's elbow and shove her behind you, fully blocking her body. and then, the impact.

✧.* you're not even sure what happened- just the next thing you know, there's an enforcer with several holes in their body, and jinx is knelt in front of you. trying to speak to you, but it's like the world's gone silent.

✧.* "what? i don't understand... what's going on," you mutter, half to yourself, and half to jinx. but you quickly realize that you can't hear yourself speaking, and you can't hear her voice, despite the fact that she looks distraught over you. you're bleeding, the shock of it all stopping most of the pain, yet it just doesn't feel real.

✧.* jinx quickly grabs your shoulders and guides you back to her hideout. it's obvious that you're shaken up and in a haze, the last thing your girlfriend would want is you trying to find your way there by yourself in this state.

✧.* she sits you on a tattered couch, getting her (your) first aid kit out to hastily patch you up. you're looking at her hands working quickly on your wounds, but don't notice the fact that she's trying to ask if you're okay, if you're hurting, if you can forgive her for not being able to stop you from getting hurt. she looks up at you, dark lips pressed into a thin line. her brows are furrowed, searching your expression.

✧.* "i... can't hear anything." you say, although again, you can't hear the sound of your own voice.

✧.* jinx's eyebrows raise this time, but she quickly finishes wrapping your injuries without another word.

✧.* jinx is used to communicating non-verbally since taking in isha, but she wants to be sure of how you'd prefer to do it. first she'll make sure you don't have any lasting injuries, apologize profusely to you for everything despite going unheard. then, she'll start writing things down for you to tell you.

✧.* before long, you and jinx are making your own system of signs. you'd had to take up sign language classes, but jinx wanted to be able to communicate with you more intimately. whether you wanted to speak to her or no longer speak at all, she wants you to have that option.

✧.* 100% blasts her music even louder when you're around. she'd read something about deaf people being able to enjoy music via vibrations of the floor, so she keeps that in mind. most of the time she just plays 'get jinxed,' but the thought is there.

✧.* jinx ultimately just wants to help you get back on your feet and adjust after the accident. she thanks you profusely for protecting her like that, apologizing in the same breaths. naturally, some things in your lives will have to change, but she just wants you to be able to get back to living your life.

vi;

✧.* being with vi means being okay with her coming home with various bruises, cuts, scrapes, even sprains and broken bones from time to time. she can't always explain every injury, memory fuzzy from the series of events the day held. but regardless, she'll let you wrap her up, massage her, take care of her. it's nice to be doted on for a change.

✧.* vi's one and only strict rule is that you are not allowed to get involved in any of the fighting she does. even if it's something as seemingly harmless as standing before the council, you can never truly know what'll happen. you stay home, or at work, anywhere but where vi is getting into a fight. the last thing she wants is to see you hurt the way she gets hurt.

✧.* but this time, you decided not to listen. go behind your girlfriend's back. she's got a particularly dangerous job in the lanes, something about negotiation...? but it's the person she's negotiating with that worries you. so you decide to trail behind vi, staying a few feet behind her so that she doesn't notice you. it's harmless just this once, right? it's not like you're actually fighting, you're just making sure she's okay.

✧.* at first, things seem to be going well. a famous dealer of shimmer, someone she's decided to try and take on in an effort to slow the supply in zaun. you can't make out anything they're saying, but no punches are being thrown. that's always a good thing.

✧.* until they are.

✧.* vi has her gauntlets, striking and dodging with expert speed. you've seen vi before in pit fights that she allowed you to attend, but it always surprises you just how strong the girl is. she's like the human equivalent of a tank.

✧.* you inch closer, until you're peeking out from behind a corner at vi and the man. she seems to be holding her own so far, but you can't help the overwhelming dread enveloping you.

✧.* a punch is thrown by the man that makes your heart drop, and you immediately rush to jump in front of vi, guarding her with your body.

✧.* "babe, what are you doing-" she gasps, before you're hit several times, over and over. her eyes blown wide, vi leaves your side for just a moment to take the man down. she understands now that it's pointless, someone like this can't be reasoned with. she's not sure why she even tried, especially seeing you hurt like this.

✧.* vi kneels down beside you, wrapping both arms around you before quickly helping you up. she takes one of your arms around her shoulder, supporting your weight as she brings you home. she doesn't try to pry, try to talk to you, her mind focused on just getting you to safety.

✧.* the second she gets you through the door, vi sits you down on your bed, grabbing a kit to patch you up. still silent, still focused, her eyes unmoving. she seems strangely stoic, but you chalk it up to her just being absorbed in what she's doing.

✧.* finally, she looks up at you, and asks, "do you feel alright, baby?"

✧.* you furrow your brows, trying to make out what she's asking you, but you simply can't. everything is silent, and you don't know why, and you wish so badly to hear her voice. your lips are parted, but no words come out.

✧.* "baby?"

✧.* "i... everything is quiet." you mutter. vi’s eyes go wide, but she immediately catches onto what you’re saying- and scrambles for any way that she can talk to you. writing at first, but she listens intently as you speak and tell her exactly what you need. her first priority is helping you heal from your external injuries, her second is to help you adjust.

✧.* vi wasn’t really given a formal education, but she will seek out a local class or group so that she can learn sign language for you. the last thing she wants is to not be able to properly communicate with you. given, she doesn’t know much about deafness or hearing loss, but she’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re able to get back on your feet.

✧.* generally, though, she tries not to mention the accident too much. she knows it’s a sore spot for you, and she also doesn’t want to reduce you to the fact that you lost your hearing. you’re still the same girl that she fell in love with.

✧.* however, vi is eternally grateful for the way you protected her that day. she doesn’t know what could’ve happened to her if you didn’t.

mel;

✧.* it happened during the attack on the council.

✧.* you were overseeing the meeting regarding the independence of zaun, a peace treaty of sorts. your girlfriend frequently invited you to sit in on meetings, saying that it was important for you to be aware of what’s going on in the city. part of you thinks she just wants an excuse to spend more time with you, though.

✧.* one second you're watching spotlights flicker as council members make their decisions, the next second you hear glass shattering and screams. you're throwing yourself over mel's form to soften the blow to her. and then- nothing.

✧.* you wake up in a stiff bed, your back feeling as if it's on fire, various tubes and wires sticking out of you. you look around, vision clouded, taking in your surroundings. a bland-looking room with white curtains, the air dry, a vase of flowers on a table, and a chair beside your bed. with mel sitting in it.

✧.* "darling, you're awake," she breathes out, reaching for your hand. she wants more than anything to bring you close, to hold you to her and never let go, but she can't do that right now. not while you're in this condition.

✧.* you squeeze her hand, but you don't register what she's said. you can't hear anything, in fact, and it's... strange.

✧.* you just look at mel, your expression still. she's searching for something, anything.

✧.* "...please, darling, say something."

✧.* "i can't hear you, mel." you state.

✧.* it doesn't take long for mel to catch onto what's happened, likely due to how many tragedies she's seen in her life. she's seen people lose their vision, movement in their bodies, limbs, and their hearing.

✧.* mel squeezes your hand back, a pained look in her eyes, but she's just grateful that this is the worst thing that came of the explosion. her first priority is getting all of your external wounds healed, getting you back to a state where she can finally take you home and hold you the way she aches to.

✧.* in the meantime, mel hires one of the best sign tutors in piltover (she can't be bothered to take a group class) to teach both you and her. the last thing she wants is for you two to not be able to communicate, even if you insist that you can (sometimes) read her lips.

✧.* the second the doctor says you're in good enough health to go home, mel is gathering your things and rushing you home. she's fussing over you, making sure you're okay to walk after being in bed for so long, peppering your face with gentle kisses and no doubt leaving some of her lip gloss behind.

✧.* mel does still want you to sit in on council meetings, despite everything. internally, she feels horrible for your sacrifice and selflessness. but she doesn't bring it up- she doesn't want for you to feel guilty or bring up any bad memories. she does hire an interpreter to sit in as well, so that you can still follow along.

✧.* mel also is careful to let you know that she's in the room before touching you. one of her favorite things used to be wrapping her arms around your waist from behind, nestling her face into the crook of your neck and pressing gentle kisses to sensitive skin. but she realizes that may startle you now, so she'll make sure that you can see her before doing anything.

✧.* your girlfriend overall is just very caring, very doting, as always. she's always been an attentive and devoted lover, wanting to make sure that you're comfortable and most importantly happy.

sevika;

✧.* it was during the rally in zaun, near vander's statue. all was well, you were stood next to your girlfriend as she spoke to a crowd of various groups- jinxers, traders, silco's former allies... your hand on the small of her back to reassure her as she spoke.

✧.* until enforcers raided the rally, full tactical gear and brute force. the crowd immediately disperses, some being thrown to the ground, others shoved against fences and handcuffed- and the second a spear was thrown at sevika, you knew you had to do something.

✧.* sevika was always insistent that you allow her to do the hard work. she's used to defending others, throwing herself in the face of danger and taking the worst of everything. she did it for silco, she did it for jinx, hell, she does it for you.

✧.* before she could protest or push you out of the way, you were throwing yourself in front of sevika, taking all of the blows directed at her. the instant she realized what you were doing, she was gripping your shoulders, trying to shove you away from her, saying "i've got this, move," and asking what the hell you think you're doing. but you won't budge.

✧.* you just keep taking it, hit after hit, wincing and screaming out in pain, but you can't bear to see sevika hurt. not anymore than she already has been.

✧.* the next moment you remember is waking up in your girlfriend's lap, her cradling your head, brows knitted together in painful concern. it hurts her to see you like this. the second you begin to blink your eyes open, she's holding you close to her chest.

✧.* she pulls back slightly to look at you, just taking in your features. god, sevika is just so grateful that you're alive, that you aren't hurt too badly. you're bruised, you were beaten, you have a few cuts and gashes, but it seems like she's gotten those cleaned up while you were unconscious.

✧.* "dove? are you okay? please, talk to me."

✧.* you wince slightly, your lips parted. sevika is trying to say... something, but you're not able to understand any of it.

✧.* "i don't- i don't understand..." you breathe out, and then you realize that you can't hear your own voice either.

✧.* "what don't you understand?" she asks, but you still can't quite make out what she's asking you. what you can see is that her expression is growing more and more frantic.

✧.* "i can't hear you, sev. i can't... hear anything." you say, hoping to god she understands what you're getting at.

✧.* her eyes widen, but sevika's expression quickly softens. she knows more than most people do what it's like to lose something in battle, having lost an arm protecting silco from one of powder's bombs nearly a decade ago. she sighs, pressing her lips into a thin line, and nods. she doesn't say anything further, but helps you onto your feet so that she can make sure you're fully there after being out for so long.

✧.* first thing she does the next morning is seek out some kind of resources for sign language. she's not the type of woman to take formal classes normally, so she'll stop by the only (run down) public library in zaun and begin to teach herself. it does take some time, but she gets there, and eventually she's at your level (although you went to an actual class).

✧.* similar to mel, she'll let you know that she's in the room before touching you in any way. one of sevika's favorite things to do is brush the small of your back from behind, give you lingering touches in the morning after she's woken up and you're already cooking breakfast. but she knows you'd probably jump out of your skin now that you can't hear her behind you, so she'll do whatever she can to avoid that.

✧.* as i've said many times, i do imagine that sevika is a pretty soft and gentle lover the majority of the time. this transcends into this, but above all, she wants you to just adjust. life goes on, you learn how to live with what you've lost and work around it. she knows that very well from experience.

caitlyn;

✧.* you were caught in crossfire of one of the many shootouts between noxian forces and piltover's soldiers. you had never been a violent or confrontational person, preferring to watch from the sidelines and let your girlfriend take care of the dirty work. that didn't mean that you didn't have opinions, but you opted to stay behind the scenes.

✧.* lately, though, caitlyn has been coming home with worse and worse injuries. at first it was a few cuts, a few gashes, but then it's stab wounds, bullet holes in her arms and sides. it's a miracle how she hasn't been vitally wounded, but you don't want to wait until that actually does happen.

✧.* so one day, you insist on letting you come with her. caitlyn tries to protest, tries to persuade you to just stay home, or go out to local shops, or take yourself out to eat, anything but putting yourself in the face of violence with her. but you're relentless, you won't have any of it- so finally, she gives in.

✧.* "stay at a distance, okay? the last thing that i want is for you to get beaten up like i do."

✧.* you try to listen, you really do. but with ambessa, noxian forces, soldiers coming at caitlyn and topside's soldiers from all directions, it's hard to not want to do something. the battle is getting more heated, caitlyn moves with frightening speed and accuracy. but it's not enough, not this time.

✧.* your eyes don't know where to look, don't know what to focus on. you can hardly keep up with everything, especially from where you're standing, but you finally decide to step in. you can't bear to see caitlyn get hurt anymore, and you can't even begin to comprehend the idea of losing her because of this.

✧.* it all goes by in a flash. you in front of caitlyn, the woman screaming your name, being shoved to the ground, sharp pains, then nothing.

✧.* you wake up in caitlyn's bed, surrounded by bouquets she got you and with her sitting on the edge of the bed. the second that she registers you're regaining consciousness, she can only smile down at you with tears pricking at her eyes.

✧.* "oh, thank gods you're awake," she breathes out, immediately reaching to take your hand and intertwine your fingers with hers, calloused thumb running across the back of your hand.

✧.* what's strange is that you can feel caitlyn's hand against yours, you can see her lips moving, but you can't hear anything, and it's driving you crazy. clearly she's trying to say something to you, but it's inaudible. everything is.

✧.* she furrows her brows, waiting for your response. normally, you don't take this long, but you're just... staring at her, your expression unmoving.

✧.* "dear?" she asks, her face growing visibly worried.

✧.* "i don't know what you're trying to say, cait, i- i'm sorry." you whisper. "i can't hear a thing."

✧.* caitlyn is a smart girl. she takes a moment to process what you've said, but it does click in her mind pretty quickly. you've lost your hearing. a million thoughts swirl through her head, about learning how to effectively communicate with you, how to adjust around this, but she can't get ahead of herself. she just sighs, gently brushing her lips against your forehead and letting you continue to rest.

✧.* however, similar to mel, caitlyn hires a sign teacher to teach both of you. cait is very immersed, practicing with you whenever possible. it's not only a good bonding experience, but it helps her be able to accommodate you better.

✧.* absolutely doesn't let you go on any more missions with her, though. not that you'd ask- but if you did, the answer would be an immediate no. neither of you really speak about what you did that day.

✧.* caitlyn is grateful that you jumped in to defend her, knowing she likely would've suffered worse in her own wounded state. but it's a sore spot for both of you.

✧.* caitlyn is also very well-researched, so she does go to some archives to read about hearing loss and how to build something around it. that's all she wants for you, really, to be able to make something out of this. she doesn't want to coddle you, doesn't want to give you sympathy that she knows you don't need. she's grateful that you came out the other end with your life intact.

[ddejavvu]

I’d love to see a jake seresin x secret wife au. The dagger squad doesn’t realize he’s married until Phoenix invites reader out to the bar with them! Thanks you’re the best!!

You're reminded just how little you know Natasha when she invites you out for drinks, and you end up at the bar adjacent to the naval base. You've been inside only once with Jake before, when you were still dating and he was going through training at top gun. Now he's a graduate, and the place brings back fond memories. You've chatted, of course, when she stops by for breakfast at the bakery you work for, but you've never discussed her career before.

"Hope you don't mind we're close to base," She grins, "My friends wanted to meet here, and I get free drinks 'cause the bartender likes me. They have this bell system to embarrass all the assholes here, and I think I ring it more than she does."

"I've been here before," You admit, tentatively grabbing her arm as she weaves through the crowd, "My husband and I came here once, a long time ago. I don't think the bartender was a woman, though."

"She just bought the place a few years ago," Natasha nods, sliding onto a stool at the bar, "Careful, don't put your phone on the bar."

You tuck the device safely away in your pocket as a brunette woman turns to you, a sweet smile on her face as she recognizes Natasha.

"Hey, Phe," She hums, and you don't have time to ask what the nickname means, "Brought a friend?"

"I'm Y/N," You introduce yourself, noting that they seem like close friends, "It's nice to meet you. I'm Penny."

You nod and beam at her when she offers you an identical bottle of beer to the one Natasha takes. You decline, though, ordering your usual instead. Jake's out with his friends tonight, but he's pledged to be a responsible drinker in case you need to be picked up from your girls' night.

"Can I get, uh," Natasha peers through the crowd, turning back when you assume she's found her target, "Five more?"

"Fanboy's got one already," Penny hums, taking four chilled bottles from beneath the counter, "You want help carrying them?"

"We're good!" You wrap one hand around two bottles, trusting Natasha to lead you towards her friends in the hectic crowd. You don't remember it being this busy when you'd come with Jake, maybe the new management really helped.

She treks you all the way over to a pool table along the wall, where a few men in jeans and t-shirts are huddled. You're taken by surprise, though you're not sure why. You'd automatically assumed her friends would be women, and you wonder if that's concerning. Possible internal bias aside, you smile at the men who stand to greet you.

"Hello," You wave, handing off beers to the two that meet you first,"I'm Y/N, you're Natasha's friends?"

"We are," A tall man grins, holding a hand out for you to shake now that it's not wrangling beers, "I'm Reuben. But you can call me Payback, if you want."

Natasha still has one of the beers in her hands, and you hear the man beside her, who she greets as Fanboy, mention something about the bathroom. Apparently you still have someone to meet.

You refocus on Reuben, "Payback," You tilt your head slightly to the side, "Is that a callsign? Are you a pilot?"

"We all are," The man who'd taken the other beer from you nods along with Payback, a burnt red mustache on his lip, "Natasha's is Phoenix. And I'm Rooster."

Your stomach drops.

"Wait, uh- Rooster? And- and Phoenix, and Payback," Your head spins slightly with recollections of Jake's crazy work stories, and you take a step back, "Are you- you're all stationed to this base?"

"Temporarily," Rooster frowns, "Hey, are you okay?"

"My husband-" You don't get the words out before he emerges from the bathroom, stopping dead in his tracks with a furrow in his brow that wrinkles his forehead.

"Darlin'?" He calls, just loud enough to be heard over the music.

"Jake?" You're equally incredulous, "I- these are the friends you're going out with?"

"Yeah, I-" He wanders closer, still at a general loss for words, "You know Phoenix?"

"Natasha gets breakfast at the bakery," You breathe, now that he's close enough to hear your dumbfounded murmur. You have an audience, but you don't care, not as Jake's confused expression melts into a sheepish smile.

"Well, small world. You look stunning tonight, honey."

"Thanks," You grin bashfully, keeping one hand on your drink and using the other to cup his cheek, tugging him down into a quick kiss. No matter how chaste it is, it gets a reaction.

"Oh," Fanboy gawps, "You're- her husband? You- Hangman, dude, you're married?"

"I am," Jake hums, ringing an arm around your waist and taking the beer from Natasha that she's too shock-stricken to hand to him. He pops the cap off on the edge of the pool table, bringing the fizzing mouth to his lips for a swig. He swallows, "Six years and counting."

"You're married to Hangman," Natasha- er, Phoenix repeats, "You married him?"

"Uh, I did," You laugh, twisting the ring on your finger.

"He never wears a ring," Rooster narrows his eyes at Jake accusatorily, "What, you're keeping her hidden away or something?"

"No," Jake scoffs, "It kept getting dirty when I was doing maintenance on my jet. I keep it on my dog tags, Bradshaw."

He brandishes the chain with both his ID and wedding band on it, and Rooster takes a swig of beer in response.

"How the hell was I supposed to know that, man? I don't stare at your chest in the locker room."

"Well you're missin' out," Jake drawls, turning to grin at you, "Ain't that right, honey?"

"Jake," You hiss, "Not here!'

"Oh, don't get all fussy. Most of these guys have seen my dick," He waves a dismissive hand in the air, nearly spilling his beer. You swear you hear someone mumble, 'unfortunately', but Jake drowns them out, "They don't care if we flirt. Hey, whaddya say we sharpen up those pool skills of yours?"

"Alright," You nod, letting him lead you over to the table, "Natasha, can you hold my drink?"

She takes it like it's her duty to protect you, even though your big strong husband has just bent you over the pool table. It takes you a few tries to be able to hit the ball at all with your clumsy grip on the cue, but when it finally cascades the colorful targets around the table, Jake whoops, landing a congratulatory smack to your ass that his friends groan at.

"Nice goin', darlin'. Gonna beat Bradshaw into the ground in no time."

[itsbenedict]

That's Right: It's Another Hot Take About That Dead Healthcare CEO

The websites are abuzz with debate on the utilitarian calculus of whether some guy getting shot was a good thing. What are the odds that the assassination will scare the horrible greedy health insurance companies into changing their ways and fixing the system? Is it worth killing someone over? Will the fear of being blasted by some guy with stylishly-engraved bullets put the fat cats in line? Or will their greed win out over their fear, leaving the nightmarish system unchanged?

Well, what if that was totally irrelevant?

You may have seen a graph that looks like this:

I've seen a few of these going around. These are the rates at which various health insurance companies say "no, you don't get the money" when someone says "hey I need money for this medical thing". UHC, the one whose CEO got shot, is notably really bad in this respect. They've got algorithmic claims denials and all kinds of nasty things that people don't like. All that money they're saving on paying out on claims must be making them rich, right? Let's look at their own financial reports:

Whoa! Big numbers! Six percent looks like a small number, but multiply and they make like thirty billion dollars doing this! That's a lot, right?

Well hang on. They're an insurance company. We can roughly model their profit as the amount people pay them for insurance, minus the amount they have to pay out for claims. Let's look at 2023: simple subtraction, their expenses are $339.2 billion. We simplify other overhead and assume that's all claims. So... that represents those 67% of claims they don't reject. What happens if they approve all the claims?

Multiply: $506.3 billion. They don't have that kind of money. They have $371.6 billion in revenue. So okay- they have to deny some claims. That's pretty normal. But let's pretend they're extremely afraid of assassins now and want to be completely non-greedy: they're okay making zero profit. They make $32.4 billion in profit- how many otherwise-rejected claims can they now afford to approve?

...uh. Well, they can afford to pay out, at most, 73.4% of claims. Still a denial rate of 26.6%, higher than most of their competitors. Not a huge improvement. And in reality, they can't afford to make 0 profit- a company that's making 0 profit is a company investors pull out of immediately, leaving it to collapse, because they can make more money investing in the ones that aren't as afraid of assassins. They've got to at least hover around the same profit margin as their competitors. Which is...

That's average profit margins for the whole US healthcare industry. So, okay, if we match those other companies' profit margins and try to hover around 3-4%... uh. Wait. Hang on. Here's another graph with more recent data on UHC specifically:

Wait, they're still just making that little 3-4% profit margin, even with all these shady automated denials- so how are those other companies doing better on claims? They're obviously not less greedy. They must be making more money somehow, right?

(My guess, sight-unseen, would be that they charge more for their plans, or offer less comprehensive coverage, or use a network of less expensive providers, or other things that make the amount they have to pay out smaller and the amount they're taking in larger. I don't feel like doing a comprehensive consumer review of what every insurance provider's healthcare plans are, but there's always these tradeoffs to make. UHC seems to be offering the tradeoff of "better or cheaper care, on paper" for "but there's a higher risk of getting denied", which is one annoying tradeoff among many.)

Okay But That's Enough Graphs

"Yeah yeah yeah shut up about profit margins and coverage tradeoffs. Is it a good thing that the CEO got shot or not?"

Well, their profit margin at the time he was shot was 3.63%. A company can't survive making 0 or less, so whatever effect fear of assassination has on UHC's greediness, it is going to be no larger than 3.63%.

They may learn the lesson that having their denial rates too high will get them assassinated. Accordingly, they may decrease that metric- by charging higher premiums, kicking expensive doctors out of their network, or reducing their stated coverage. They will not (because they cannot, without ceasing to exist as a company) simply start approving more claims without squeezing their customers elsewhere. They legally cannot do that. No matter how afraid you make the CEOs, you cannot make them afraid to a degree larger than their profit margin.

Well What The Fuck, Then

Like, what, are we supposed to accept that things will literally never get better and that this horrorshow is the best we can hope for? That's some bullshit! If we can't scare the CEOs, who can we scare?

Man I dunno.

Like, for some reason healthcare is stupid expensive! People can't afford to pay for healthcare without insurance- it's like thousands of dollars for basic procedures! Why? Maybe...

Doctors inflate their prices 10x because they know insurance companies will use complicated legal tricks to only pay 10% of the asking price, and this is a constantly escalating price war that serves mainly to fuck over the uninsured

Drug manufacturers and health technology companies fight tooth and nail to maintain monopolies over treatment, so they can charge gazillions to make back the gazillions they had to spend on FDA approval trials

(Trials those same companies lobby to keep necessary because the more money you have to pay for FDA approval, the harder it is for competitors to enter the market since they don't already have the gazillions)

Doctors operate as a cartel and lobby to gatekeep access to medical training so that they can keep doctoring a prestigious and exclusive position, and keep their own salaries high enough to pay their medical school debt and make them rich afterwards- leading to a (profitable) shortage of medical professionals

There is no limit to how expensive things can get but how much people are physically capable of paying, because frequently the alternative to "pay a ridiculous amount for healthcare" is "die", and so healthcare is subject to near-infinitely inelastic demand

Also like a thousand other equally annoying and complicated perverse incentives and stupid situations

This is the human condition: Shit is annoying and complicated and difficult to fix, pretty much 100% of the time forever. A few bullets in some fucko's back isn't really going to make a dent.

(But like, sure, fuck that guy. He probably sucked, as do the hundred other identical suits in line to replace him. Just... don't expect this to help.)

[fleurvi]

Sick!S/O | Arcane Women

request for arcane women with a sick gf

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characters: ambessa, caitlyn, grayson, mel, sevika, vi

cw: fem!reader

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Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa doesn't really take care of you when you're sick. She's a warrior, not a doctor. But we're delusional here, so I'll go with it.

You are not allowed to lift a finger. You need to recover properly so she'll have guards around you at all times so you can order them to get things for you. She visits you regularly to check up on your health and make sure you're being doted on. In a rare occurrence, she offers you a massage to relax you.

“How are you feeling?” Ambessa asks, heavy hands working against your shoulders and neck. You nod, thanking her for her service. “Maybe a bath would do you good.”

✩♬ ₊˚.✂️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Caitlyn Kiramman

Cait panics. She can't think rationally at all. You cough once, and she's writing a eulogy. When she's sure it's not super serious, she's diligent in her care. She makes sure you stay hydrated and get plenty of rest.

“What are you doing? You should be resting,” says Cait as she notices you getting out of bed.

“Babe, c'mon”

“No. Don't you ‘babe’ me. You should be taking care of yourself,” She fusses, ushering you back to your bed.

✩♬ ₊˚.✂️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Grayson

Grayson believes that if you mope around In bed, you'll just make it worse. She lets you rest when you need it, but she encourages you just to take some painkillers, hydrate adequately and go about your work.

“Here you go,” Grayson says, handing you medication and water. “We've got a busy day. If it gets too much, just let me know, and I'll send you home to rest,” She says, pulling you into a hug and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

✩♬ ₊˚.✂️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Mel Medarda

She just wants you to get better. Mel checks up on you but doesn't spend much time with you because she doesn't want to catch whatever you have. When she does visit you, she makes sure to ask if you're getting what you need and making sure you get it. She's mostly concerned about you resting, so she stays with you, talking softly with you until you fall asleep.

“Are you sure you're okay, my love?” She asks, running her hands over your back.

“Yeah, I think I need to sleep off. Thank you for coming to visit,” you say, closing your eyes.

“You're welcome, My Love”

✩♬ ₊˚.✂️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Sevika

Sevika loves you, but she's not going to baby you. She'll ask you if you're on your deathbed, and if the answer is no, then you can get off your ass and help her with whatever business she's been called on.

If you want Sevika to help you with anything, you've got to turn on the whining. She likes being useful, so if you really need it, she'll sit with you until you fall asleep, but she won't wait for you to wake up. You're tough, like her, so she leaves you to it until you wake up and are ready to get back to work.

✩♬ ₊˚.✂️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Vi

Vi thinks her immune system is “built different”, and she's not entirely wrong. She'll stay with you, hold you while you sleep, and make sure you eat as well as you can in Zaun. If you tell her you're not really hungry, she will lecture you until you give in and at least try to eat.

“C'mon, pretty girl,” Vi says, leaning in to kiss you. You feel gross and push her head away.

“You'll get sick”

“Babe. My immune system is made of steel. I've never gotten sick in my life. Now come here and give me a proper kiss,” she says, rolling her eyes.

“Fine. If you get sick, I'm not gonna baby you.”

“Yes, you will”, she laughs, and you know she's right.

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Thank you for reading!

This was a request! My main interests right now are arcane and attack on titan so please keep dropping in my inbox!

[ohwaitimthewriter]

The Memory Keeper

Chapter 1 : List.

Pairing : Noa x human reader

Warning : A bit of mourning. Otherwise, all clear for this one!

Summarize (please I'm so bad at writing these!): A woman, allowed to live as long as the virus keeps running through her body, living on autopilot for 260 years, is going to see her life takes a new turn, finding hope in something that might come to put an end to her wandering.

Words : 3.2k

A/N : It has been a long time since I've written something and it feels pretty good to get back at it with this story! I hope you'll like it and do not hesitate to share your thoughts or like/reblog, it's always appreciated! As English isn't my native language, I'm sorry if you find mistakes or weird wording in there, let me know if you find some and I'll be glad to correct them!

Enjoy your reading 😊

The Memory Keeper masterlist.

It wasn't going to be a difficult day. The list was ready, the tasks the same as the day before and the day after. You had to go to the river: catch a fish, fill the flasks with fresh water, bathe… You had to get on your horse and on the way back, stop at the 16th tree on the right, get off, walk 30 steps and fill the bag with blackberries. You had to avoid the brambles and avoid tripping over the prominent root. Get back on the horse and ride home.

Prepare the fish: remove the head and tail, the skin, gut it and remove the bones, light a fire to cook it. Yes, evolution had done many things, but it must have missed the episode where it was necessary to improve the human digestive system. So the fish still had to be cooked.

The garden had to be tended. Over the years, it had evolved too. It had been a long time in the making. A vegetable garden, tomatoes, green beans and, you couldn't quite remember how, artichokes had found their place too. An apple tree was easy to grow. It took time, but it was easy. And then there was this little gem you'd stumbled upon one day: a rosebush. It was an important one. You had to take care of it too.

You always had to do something.

Your hands knew what to do and how to do it. Your legs took you where you needed to go, and at that particular moment, they had led you to your horse. You had to remove his saddle and bridle, check his hooves and remove any stones that might have got stuck on them. Run your hand over his belly to loosen the skin compressed by the girth. And don't forget to give him a drink. When it came to eating, he found everything on his own, except perhaps an apple, which you gave him from time to time to thank him for his help. He knew how to ask, too. In fact, he huffed and gave you a nudge.

Okay, an apple.

He followed you to the apple tree and you climbed onto his back. You could reach the branches, but it was always difficult to keep your balance. Especially when your right hip wasn't working properly. And you sighed. It really wasn't convenient.

You had to go on with the list, what was next?

“ Hearing my voice at least once and speaking so I don't forget.”

This was important. You had to remember how to speak. The world had forgotten, but you must not. You had no right to forget.

“Say something new.”

And you looked around.

“It's cloudy today.”

Which meant rain wasn't far off. Your horse was now grazing beside you.

“You should take shelter.”

You smile, you'd said one more sentence today. Your horse's ears twitched as if to say “I do what I want” and you shrugged. After all, he was the one to decide. But you didn't want to get wet in the rain. You patted his neck and went off to find shelter in your wooden hut.

You've lived here for a long time. A very long time. So long that you no longer needed a torch to light up the big room when night fell or when the clouds darkened the place. You knew exactly where the shaky table was, the armchair with its deformed, hollowed-out seat and even the little plastic pot you kept forgetting to put back on the table to avoid getting your feet caught in it. And despite the years, you never tripped over it.

You were right to come home. You'd just had time to put the water flasks and the cooked fish on the table when a torrent of water hit the floor. The end of the list would have to wait. The timing was perfect, as your stomach signaled that it was time to fill up, and the smell of the wood-fired fish made your mouth water.

Settling back in your armchair, you ate the fish, watching the rain fall against the hut's only window. Eating with your hands was no longer as disturbing as it had been at first. There were a lot of memories that had slipped away over time, but you almost smiled when you thought back to the embarrassment you'd felt the first time you'd had to eat like that. If you'd known back then where you'd end up…

A sigh.

Drops tumbled against the window and some seemed to challenge themselves to get to the bottom first. They were following the path traced by others before them, but obviously not all roads were good ones to take. Some raindrops went straight down, others tried to cut off their opponents' path, and still others weaved in and out to create their own path. Then a raindrop caught your eye. It seemed the most likely to win the mad race. It glided and slalomed proudly until it landed delicately on your windowsill, blending in with its sisters who had landed there before it.

You turned your eyes to the last piece of fish, which you brought to your mouth.

You took one last look out the window, and that's when you caught sight of it.

A shadow.

A shadow had just moved past your window. The rain kept on pounding against it and you could see the trees in the distance stirring in the wind, and you were sure you saw the shadow moving, quickly to the right, but the shadow was gone. There were only raindrops, only the wind, and you could even hear the dull roar of an incipient thunderstorm.

A deep breath. You had to.

Then a sigh.

The rain and wind must have played a trick on you. If the storm picked up, you definitely wouldn't be able to finish your outdoor to-do list. But that didn't matter, there was still plenty to do inside.

First you had to tidy up. Keeping the interior clean and tidy was important, so you couldn't leave the water bottles on the table. You grabbed them and stepped over the little plastic pot that stood between the table and what you could call a kitchen. At least, that's what you would have called this part of the hut back in the day, because there was only a broken sink and a cupboard without a door. You passed the front door and it rattled against the latch in the wind. You had managed to install a branch across the door, allowing you to keep it closed in bad weather. However, as it didn't close very well, the wind always managed to rattle it between the branch and the latch. But you got used to the noise. So you walked past the shaky door to put the water bottles in the cupboard, and when you heard a suspicious rustling sound, you jumped, staring at the door.

You frowned at the unusual sound. You had been holding your breath, but the wind suddenly whistled through the doorframe, which was sorely lacking in hermetic seals. So you breathed out, taking a calmer breath. The wind. Mother Nature was definitely testing your nerves tonight.

Well, you still had to change your clothes. Night was coming on and you couldn't possibly sleep in your day clothes. You stepped over the little plastic pot again and made your way to the wooden chest beside the fireplace to find a t-shirt and a pair of jogging shorts with a hole in the left knee. Maybe one day you'd find a stray piece of fabric while walking through the forest, so you could mend it. But you hadn't yet got to the list asking you to explore the surrounding area.

There were 7 lists divided into 4 sections, themselves arranged in 12 categories. It was your way of keeping track of time. You no longer counted the days, let alone the years; you'd long since lost the very notion of time. But to grow crops, harvest the fruits of the forest and simply follow nature's millimetric events and be able to anticipate them, you needed a reference point. The lists, though mostly identical, were that reference point. Hanging on the wall with pieces of wood you'd carved yourself, they determined your days and the things you had to do.

You didn't really know when or how you'd started making these lists. But judging by the ink, half washed away by the years - some of the lists had even gone back to being blank - it must have been a long time ago.

You put the current day's list back in its place. Tomorrow, you'd have to complete it while carrying out the next one. But there was one more thing you needed to do indoors before settling into your armchair for the night. One last important thing.

From the chest, you took out a picture frame. The corners were worn, the wood had crumbled and you had to handle it carefully to avoid getting splinters in your hands. You set the frame down on the floor by the fireplace, knelt in front of it and reached into the jar on your right to pick a rose petal, which you placed carefully in the right-hand corner of the frame.

You struggled to swallow.

That's where it always got complicated.

Once again, you reached into the jar and pulled out 7 petals. You always needed 7 petals. You placed 6 of them in a circle on the dry twigs in the fireplace and began humming a song whose words you'd long since forgotten. But you remembered the feeling. You felt a lump in your throat, and you often wondered how you managed to keep the song going.

You hummed, and on the last petal, with the help of a needle, you delicately traced his initials. You had to be careful not to press too hard, you shouldn't pierce the petal, just brush against it enough to see, if you concentrated hard enough, the outline of the letter you were drawing. You also had to blink a few times to see clearly what you were doing. It was important to get it right. Once you'd written the letter on the petal, you laid it at the center of the circle.

It was always at this moment that your hands shook. You needed a moment. Just a bit of time.

You had to wipe your hands over your eyes, the most important thing was to handle the two flints on the floor with care. Your hands had to be steady, not shaking. You interrupted the song to get your breathing under control.

Inhale.

Breathe out.

Grab the flints.

Inhale.

Exhale.

A sharp stroke.

The clatter of the stone threw sparks onto the pile of twigs and a flame sprang up. You started humming again as the fire slowly consumed the wood until it reached the petals of the circle.

A tear.

The fire continued to progress and you stared desperately at the petal in the center, quickly ridding yourself of the tears that were blurring your vision. The flame touched the edge of the petal and you watched the letter “C” burn away and disappear into the ashes.

The flame faded as the twigs gradually disappeared and, once gone, you slipped the petal on the frame back into its jar.

Now you had to put the frame away. Your fingers brushed the edge of the picture inside of it. Despite the years, you had managed, by some miracle, to keep the photograph almost undamaged. At least, sufficiently intact that you could still distinguish the shape of an ape in the center of the picture, despite the cracks.

He was a force of nature. You had taken this photo on a December day, you still knew because you could still discern the white flakes clinging to his dark fur. Back then, you loved taking pictures.

What did they call you again?

The memory keeper.

Even after all this time, it still made you smile. You gently squeezed the frame between your fingers, keeping it balanced on the knees you'd just tucked in towards you. This way, he was a little closer to you.

You made an extra effort to remember the day. He was standing high enough to see everyone around him. He must have been talking about something important; he always had that powerful, soul-piercing stare when he was saying something important. But he always looked…

“Grumpy.”

You concluded your thought in a whisper that knotted your throat. Grumpy. You almost expected to hear him growl, his ego bruised, every time you reminded him that he was sometimes a little too grumpy. “Grumpy because a lot on my shoulders,” he'd snap back at you. “No, grumpy because you're old” you'd always reply, your eyes always playful. And you were the only one who could say such a thing, with the only result being an amused snore coming from him.

And you felt yourself take a deep breath. Of all the pictures you'd taken, this was the last one you had left. You had to put the frame back in the chest, so your fingers tightened even more around the wood. Your head tilted slightly forward, closing your eyes as the wood touched your forehead.

Tonight was difficult.

You took another deep breath, and before the knot in your throat hurt too much, you straightened up and went to put the frame in the chest.

“Caesar, tonight is really difficult,” you whispered, watching the shadow of the lid close over the frame.

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

It had been a restless night. When your eyes opened the next morning, they felt heavy and swollen, and you found yourself rubbing your eyes to try and make the heaviness go away.

Today, there was much to do. After changing from your night clothes to your day ones, you removed the branch blocking the door and let the sun shine in, warming your skin. The fresh early-morning air caressed your skin and you took a few seconds to smell the distinctive light scent that follows a thunderstorm.

No sooner had you taken a few steps forward than your feet bumped into something hard, causing you to lose your balance. In a fraction of a second, you found yourself on your butt on the ground, a stabbing pain in your right hip that had failed to move to stop you from falling.

“Ouch!” was the only thing that slipped out of your mouth.

You straightened up slightly, remaining seated in the grass, to see what had caused your fall and a pile of apples laid exactly under the wobbly small porch that covered your front door.

God, what a dummy not to have put that away last night. You thought to yourself, looking down at your hands full of dirt. You'd have to go to the river to clean it up, and now you'd just have to take your night clothes with you because you'd also have to wash the ones you were wearing-the mud from the storm must have dirtied your current clothes.

A pile of apples. You thought as you rubbed your hands together.

A pile of apples. You glanced at your right hip. Pfft, if you'd made Caesar break it to put it back in its place, you'd never have fallen today. In fact, you'd have avoided more than one fall.

All because of a misplaced pile of apples.

A pile of misplaced apples.

And like a light bulb switching on, your gaze suddenly fell on those apples that actually had nothing to do there. You hadn't gathered them the day before.

Then you heard it. A muffled purr came gently from behind you. Surely you should have turned around, stood up and dealt with it, but you'd found yourself rooted to the spot, eyes glued to those apples, waiting as an orangutan appeared in your field of vision.

And you refused to look at him, your hands balled into fists to keep them from shaking. You weren't afraid. No. But for some obscure reason, your brain had simply decided to freeze.

The orangutan once again let out a rumble, softer this time, and held out his hand to you.

“I'll help.”

His voice made you blink several times. You did your best to snap out of your stupor, but this time your eyes agreed to look at him, and the orangutan seemed delighted.

Just one more moment. It took another second, just one, to see your hand slip into his and before you knew it, you were back on your feet.

“Raka, we must go.”

The second voice surprised you a little. It sounded familiar and your eyes fell on a chimpanzee, a little further away, who had just finished saddling a horse. You frowned, your horse? You were trying to determine whether it was really yours, but the distance didn't allow you to be sure. There was only one way to find out.

So you whistled.

The horse shook its head and the chimpanzee didn't have time to grab the reins before your horse galloped off to meet you. They were going to take your horse… in exchange for a stack of apples?

You grabbed the reins and stroked the horse's neck as he snorted. He chewed the bit and blew heavily through his nostrils.

For a fraction of a second, you forgot about the two large apes who, from the sounds they were making, weren't particularly happy to have lost a chance of obtaining a second means of locomotion: in your peripheral vision, you could see another horse quietly grazing.

Your hands still knew what to do, and it didn't take you long to remove the bridle and bit from your horse's mouth.

“He doesn't like it.” you said simply.

And only silence answered you, so you showed the bridle to the two apes.

“The bit, he doesn't like it, he's not used to it.”

Your answer didn't seem to convince them. They stared at you, dumbstruck, and if you paid close enough attention, you could almost see their mouths hanging wide open. And that left you bewildered. What didn't they understand? You'd heard them talking, so that certainly wasn't the problem.

“You can't take my horse.” You went on, starting to remove the saddle.

It was becoming increasingly obvious that they were staring at you as if you'd just landed from the sky.

“If you want a horse, there's a wild herd to the south, past the river.” And you pointed in the right direction.

They remained silent as tombs, but the chimpanzee followed the direction you pointed with his eyes.

“Just be careful, the group's stallion isn't very friendly.” You thought it important to tell him.

Your gaze fell back on them and the orangutan, Raka, if you'd heard correctly, hadn't moved a muscle. The chimpanzee, on the other hand, was staring at you thoughtfully, as if he was trying to put together a puzzle with a missing piece. He then moved towards you inquisitively, perhaps, confused?

“Echo, speak?”

It was certainly the most surprising sentence you'd ever heard in your life.

[justwinginglife]

Can I please request the kafgang investigating a crankier than usual platoon leader reader? They assume its just a woman getting irritated because she looks like she's gaining weight but it's just her pregnancy belly showing with hoshina's baby...

Pregnancy hormones amirite? (I've never been pregnant before)

LOL I've also never been pregnant before but I love this prompt and I will do my best with it!

Soshiro loved that you were pregnant with his child. And not just because he'd done some delicious love making to get you pregnant, and not just because the idea of having tons of adorable little children running around was so precious to him, no- he loved that you were pregnant because he enjoyed all the ridiculous demands that you made.

Oh, today you wanted peanut butter on pickles? Sure, he could slather them up for you.

Oh, now you were crying because the sky was too blue today and it hurt your eyes? Alright, he could try a little rain dance to bring the clouds rolling in.

Oh, you didn't like the ending of a movie that was made decades ago and wanted him to fix it? Slightly more difficult, but he made bank as Vice Captain, he was sure he could hire a film crew and some actors and have that ready for you in a jiffy.

And then when the other officers started to pick up on your pregnancy-induced attitude, but didn't pick up on the pregnancy-induced part, he enjoyed it all the more. They figured you were just cranky because you woke up on the wrong side of the bed, or it was your time of the month, but when your belly started to show more proof of Soshiro's love, they attributed your irritation to gaining weight rather than gaining a child.

And you had no idea, because no one would dare tell a Platoon Leader they were getting fat. So instead you had to deal with random outbursts of "It's okay, Platoon Leader L/N, you're still beautiful as ever," or "I know this great workout if you're interested," or "Honestly, metabolism is overrated anyway."

It wasn't even the words that they said that bothered you as much as just the act of them talking at all, their voices sounded like nails on a chalkboard to you, it was like the pregnancy version of a hangover- you just wanted everyone to be quiet.

Soshiro caught on and he steered everyone away from you until you could tolerate noise again, but not before he'd had a good laugh. Of course, if anyone dared to mention aloud that you were gaining weight or you looked different, like you were letting yourself go, he'd shut it down in an instant- towering over them with a booming voice and a threatening glare. But it cracked him up to see how cute your little nose was when you scrunched it up, confused at their attempts to make conversation with you. And it cracked him up that you were so obviously pregnant in his eyes and yet no one else had drawn that conclusion yet. He wondered just how bulging your belly had to be for it to register.

He thought he might make a game out of it, creating a points system in his head for each officer and awarding them whenever one of them got even remotely close to guessing correctly.

Shinomiya noticed that your requests had been seemingly bizarre lately and as you were a woman that she respected very much for your skill and your intellect, she knew there had to be a better reason for the fog in your brain. Point for her.

Nakanoshima noticed you'd thrown up in a nearby vase and while the men attributed it to food poisoning, she'd pondered a little bit harder about when the last time you asked to borrow a tampon from her was. Point for her.

Minase noticed (shyly) that your boobs were looking a little more rounded and plump than they usually did, and made a comment that maybe pregnancy would aid her flat chest as well. Double points for her.

Really at this point, it seemed the women were catching on faster than the men. Soshiro was suddenly embarrassed of his own gender when he had this realization.

He thought he might just break one day, screaming "I FUCKED A BABY INTO HER BELLY YA IDIOTS!!!"

But he didn't have to do that. Because one day, you'd strolled in while everyone was training and snorted loudly, saying "Wow, I could beat the entire sorry lot of you all at once even pregnant. Laps around the perimeter people!"

Everyone's eyes widened and their jaws dropped (the women a little less so than the men).

They'd barely had time to process this new information when you'd repeated in a louder tone, "Did I stutter? LAPS AROUND THE PERIMETER!"

And then they ran off, terrified at the thought of just how much torture one pregnant lady could dole out.

And Soshiro smirked again, amused as ever.

"Ahh, that's my baby. Almost makes me want to fill you up again."